His grin widened. “If I wanted to scare you, I would have done something a little more fun than saying hey you.”
My cheeks warmed. “Did you need something?”
“The computer says a rolling chair is in stock, but I’m not sure where to look.”
We still hadn’t finished the tour, and it was impossible to explain all the places in the back where the chair could be squirreled away. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I’ll show you.”
I led the way through the swinging doors to the back room with Ben following closely. The dry air tickled my nose, and I held my breath against the scent of wood and cardboard. We passed the motion sensor and fluorescent lights flickered to life overhead. The ones in the very back remained off. Randy was supposed to order more bulbs at the end of the month—I jerked again at the thought, quickly hiding it by pretending to trip over my own feet.
“Careful,” Ben said, laced with concern.
I took a deep breath and slipped between two rows of large boxes. “Which model number do they want?”
He hesitated. “It’s the brown leather one with an adjustable headrest. I can go get the number.”
“No,” I said, and he stuffed his hands into his pocket. “It’s fine. I know which one you’re talking about.”
I steadied myself between the rows, gripping the rough, dusty boxes. Industrial staples poked precariously out of a few, and I squinted at the descriptions written on white stickers over the barcode. Last time I checked, there was one stuffed behind some mattresses, but if I could avoid climbing back there, I would. Besides, the longer I took in the back, the less time I had to spend out there talking to people. I was convinced half of the customers today were only here to be nosy.
A hard corner scraped my ankle through my khakis. I kicked at the offending cardboard until the overhang sat neatly on the shelf.
“I can get it,” Ben offered.
I glanced up to where he stood at the end of the tight aisle, beneath the flickering bulb. It almost seemed like his tattoos glowed a bit in the split seconds between the light, which, of course, made no sense. It had to be a trick of the mind—or a special ink. Something. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this a million times,” I said. The hardest part was wedging a box out from between others, but once it hit the concrete floor, it slid down the row without much effort.
“But—”
“Please.” I sighed and went back to reading labels. “It’s been a rough couple of days, and I’m not in the mood to fight with you about which one of us should handle the manual labor.”
He was quiet for a heartbeat. “I’m not trying to fight.”
“I know,” I admitted. He was trying to be nice, but with my mother’s obnoxious, worried glances over dinner last night, that almost made it worse. I was flesh and bone just like he was, with good days and bad days, but on every single one of them, I was capable of carrying a stupid chair. A square box caught my attention at the end of the row, and I shimmied my way further down.
“If...” He paused. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you know, about what happened...”
The Sandman had annoyed me by not showing up and then asking me to leave, and the last few days had certainly left me with a lot to say, but I wasn’t going to lean on Ben simply because he was available. The way he reminded me of the Sandman was too unnerving to allow anything more than necessary interactions between us. The mall was a mistake. I needed my sanity now more than ever and each time I looked at his handsome face, I wanted to picture it with a hood. “I already have people to talk to, but thanks.”
“Your sister?” he asked.
“No. Katie will never talk about what happened again.” Not that I blamed her in this case, but she had a way of pretending problems didn’t exist. A family trait, I supposed. I couldn’t help but wonder if she saw that spray of blood every time she shut her eyes too. If she heard the thump of the body hitting the floor whenever it was just a little too quiet. I leaned over a box and one corner caught me in the ribs. Keep it together, I begged myself. Don’t lose it in here. I backed up and bounced on the balls of my feet.
“I do have friends, you know,” I said, forcing myself back to the present.
“I know.”
The way he said it made me believe he did know, and not in the everyone-has-friends way. “I found the chair, so if you want to go cash the customer out, I’ll bring it up.”
He stood there another moment before stepping back. His footsteps echoed off the high ceiling, and I blew out a breath. The last thing I needed was for someone to make me feel so transparent. I had too many deep, dark secrets for that. I shuffled the box back and forth, waiting to hear the swinging doors open, when warm fingers grazed the back of my neck. I clasped a hand over the touch and spun. Boxes were stacked one on top of the other, leaving no room for someone to reach between.
“Ben?” I whispered, the hair on my arm standing on end.
A low, rumbling chuckle brushed my ear. I flattened myself against the boxes and closed my eyes. It wasn’t real. This was what suppressing my feelings got me—another person in my head, tormenting me. Maybe my brain was simply wired differently. Maybe... maybe... I had no idea. Stress affected people differently, I was told. Hallucinations must have been my go-to coping mechanism.
Lucky me.
A warm brush of air sent goosebumps rippling over my skin.
“Get away from her,” a voice hissed. I gripped the edge of the steel shelf. Sandman?
“Did you think you could hide her forever?” asked a rich voice with an undercurrent of fury.
I crept down the aisle, my heart jack-hammering in my chest. My knees shook, and I peeked between boxes. Ben’s white shirt stood out in the unlit corner. His tattooed hands were balled in fists while he spoke. “Not forever. That’s why I took precautions.”
The chuckle rose again. “You’re already failing.”
“Am I?” Ben whispered with enough venom to make a viper jealous.
I snuck into an empty space between two cellophane-wrapped desks. Who was he talking to? I leaned on one desk for support and squinted. The corner was empty. I froze. Maybe the killer was Ben after all—maybe he followed Randy home before coming in and the girl... I didn’t know about the girl. The cashier did it to herself, but if I was crazy for talking to someone in my dreams, then Ben was crazy for talking to shadows. Shadows that I heard as clearly as he seemed to. One thing was certain—he had no idea how far voices carried back here.
“You think you’re safe from me because you don’t hold it yourself.” Something moved in the corner, a flash of gold slicing through the black. I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. “You’ve convinced yourself that you have nothing to be afraid of, but I smell it on you, old friend. You reek of fear. My freedom isn’t the only weapon I have against you anymore. It hasn’t been for a while now.”
Then the corner brightened a fraction, and Ben flexed his fingers. I sprinted down the aisle to the chair and gripped the edges of the box. I couldn’t listen to another word. To another delusion. With a jolt, I yanked the box forward. It crashed down on my big toe, and I yelped.
“Are you okay?” Ben darted down the narrow aisle and bent to free my foot.
“Yes.” I rubbed a dust-covered wrist over my forehead. He couldn’t know I overheard anything—either he was crazier than I was, or I was officially ready for an institute. Choice A might put me in danger. Choice B meant outing myself. Neither option was all that appealing. I needed to get away from him, from everyone, and think before I opened my mouth.
“I need to go home early today,” I said in a hushed voice as a frenzy of emotions withered in my gut.
Ben walked backward, guiding the chair from my path. “Okay.”
“You’ve got that?” I said, motioning to the chair. “It’s the right one?”
His eyes searched my face. Seeing. Too seeing. “Yes.”
I bolted from the back, leaving Ben alone with his invisible foe. Only, h
e wasn’t quite invisible—because I saw him. Sort of. Flashes of black and gold. A silhouette.
No. I saw nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
“Nora!” someone called.
A moment later, I was tackled from behind. Black spots danced in my vision before I recognized the voice as Natalie’s. My friend squeezed my waist, mumbling something about missing me into my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, patting the arms that held me in place. Part of me wanted to let her hold me so I didn’t fall over with relief, but touchy-feely wasn’t really my thing. “I thought you weren’t coming back from vacation until Friday.”
“It is Friday.” Natalie released me from the embrace and spun me around. “Why aren’t you taking our calls? We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days. Emery went to your house yesterday, but Katie said you weren’t feeling well.”
“I wasn’t.” I faked a cough, knowing full well she would see the lie. “See?”
“Oh no, don’t you play those games with me, missy.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me through the store. “You’re avoiding us, so you don’t have to talk about what happened.”
That was exactly what I was doing. After the mall, the press intensified their efforts to get in touch with me and an unmarked police car sat at each end of the block now. Turning off my ringer, ignoring calls and texts, was the best way to prevent reliving the real-life nightmares. The Sandman had the beach on some sort of lockdown—he wouldn’t say more than that. I only knew that much because he slipped up during one of the few brief moments we saw each other, mumbling something about barriers.
“We’re not going to ask about anything,” Natalie continued, “and I’ve secured you an early release.” Lisa’s father smiled and waved to us on our way toward the exit.
My stomach churned. “Where are we going?”
“Wait,” Ben called, and I tensed. “You forgot your purse.”
I turned slowly enough to register the look of shock and awe plastered over Natalie’s face. A bolt of unexplained jealousy pierced my chest. I had no claim on Ben and I didn’t want one. Did I? He was just talking to shadows, so, if for no other reason, I shouldn’t let myself be interested. I couldn’t risk his crazy feeding mine.
Besides, Natalie already had a boyfriend. Who I hadn’t seen in ages because he graduated last year. And I was busy studying. Or working. Or, really, just having an overall aversion to the whole large-social-gathering thing. Did she still have a boyfriend? Surely, she would’ve told me if they broke up…
“Thanks.” I plucked the straps from his hand. “See you later.”
Natalie clutched my arm. “Who’s this?”
“Natalie, Ben,” I said with reluctance. “Ben, Natalie.”
She held out her hand, and they shook. “We’re heading to the carnival tonight at six,” she told him.
“We’re what?” I asked. There would be way too many people there—most with prying eyes and curious minds. I clutched my purse to my chest. If I thought the attention from Randy was bad, how much worse would it be now?
“Want to meet us there?” she said, ignoring me.
Ben quirked a mischievous smile. “You’ll be there?” he asked me.
“I don’t—”
“She’ll be there.” Natalie tugged me toward the doors again. “See you later.”
We were outside then, peeling toward Natalie’s rusted heap of a car. I threw myself inside, still hugging my purse, and slammed the door. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Listen.” She turned the key once, twice, and the engine turned over. “I’ve waited our whole lives to double date.”
Date. With Ben? “No.”
“Fine.” She scrunched her curls. “Don’t date him, but, just know, he’s clearly interested. And besides, I can’t uninvite him now.”
I glared across the seat at her. First Katie, now Natalie. I almost didn’t want to date Ben, based solely on principle. “I hate you.”
“You love me.” She moved to pinch the apple of my cheek, and I leaned out of reach. “Anyway, you’ll never guess what my aunt did this year. Go on, guess.”
Curses. Natalie always had the best stories after her family reunions. “Did she spike the punch bowl again?”
“That too.” Natalie laughed, spitting out the latest story between gasps for air, until we turned into my driveway. Emery’s van was parked on the street while she sat on my lawn, plucking blades of grass. I twisted my purse straps. They were my friends, and Natalie promised they wouldn’t ask questions. Maybe Katie was right when she said I needed to stop hiding in my room. My bad luck had to be used up for the next few years…going anywhere should be safe.
As safe as the back room at Howell’s.
I forced a wide smile and slid from the passenger seat.
“The lost has been found,” Emery called. Her red hair was twisted back into a regal bun, making the worry etched on her face stand out.
“Hello to you too,” I answered with as much cheer as I could muster.
“Come on,” Natalie prodded. “There are movies, pizza, and a present from California waiting inside.”
The present turned out to be a small amethyst charm on a thin chain bracelet. I fiddled with my birthstone through the chick-flicks they rented, forcing my attention to remain solely on the movie. They talked around me—summer jobs, family, gossip—and I tried to listen to that too. I tried to engage. It was harder than usual, though. The echoes of the voice in the shadows overrode them, chafing against my skull, until we finally left for the carnival.
Stalls peppered the park. The sugary smell of cotton candy and caramel corn filled the air, and huge lights buzzed with electricity. A rainbow of colored bulbs flashed on the Ferris wheel. Somewhere, someone squealed with joy, and I dug my nails into my palms.
“Hey there, pretty lady,” called a man on a microphone. He stood beneath a striped booth with wooden rings in his hand. “Care to give it a try?”
Emery shrugged and stepped up to the counter. Her little brother loved it when she brought him home something. I leaned against Natalie to watch Emery toss the rings at the pins. “Are you having fun?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Natalie said, giving me a playful shove. “Are you?”
“Yes.” I ground out the word as a spinning ride started a few feet away and another shout rang through the crowd.
“I forgot to tell you earlier, but my grandma is visiting next month.”
“Grandma B?” I brightened at the thought. Her grandmother was like the one I never had, and she knew how to spoil a girl. Nothing beat her chili, either. Or her pie. And that pasta chicken thing she made. I was going to need bigger pants. “How long is she staying?”
“Two weeks, and she wants to take us to Miami again.” She wagged her eyebrows. “You know what that means?”
“Road trip,” we sang at the same time and laughed.
A soft tap touched my arm and I whirled around, all humor instantly gone. “Hi,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck.
My heart sputtered. He came. He actually came. And he looked down at me as if I had painted the moon in the sky. My cheeks burned at the wonderment written all over his face, and it struck me. Maybe Natalie was right. Maybe… Maybe he was interested. “You’re here.”
“Did you doubt me?” He nudged me with his elbow and gave me his starlit smile. The fire in my face spread down to the pit of my stomach.
Emery cheered for herself, and the man with the microphone handed over a neon green stuffed frog. Natalie backed away from Ben and me, smiling. “Ferris wheel?” she suggested to Emery.
I felt the weight of Emery’s eyes on me, curious and wondering. Unless Natalie filled her in on one of my bathroom breaks, she had no idea who Ben was or what he was doing here. But she nodded. Later on, there would be questions. So many questions.
“Do you want to go on it too?” Ben asked, eyeing the ride with a hopeful expression.
Natalie winked at
me, and they moved toward the surprisingly short line. Now that Ben was here, my desire to leave peaked. This place, with the crowds and loud music, was suffocating. As always. More than always. I didn’t have the energy to pretend things were okay, but I didn’t have the energy to fight against my friends’ efforts either. “We don’t have to,” I said.
He shrugged one shoulder and looked up at the hanging seats. “I don’t mind.”
I did. We would be stuck in close quarters for several long minutes, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Or, at least, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel. “I’m sort of afraid of heights so...”
He smirked. “No, you’re not.” He motioned me forward, and I glared at him, too shocked by his surety to insist we stay on the ground. “I promise, I don’t bite.” He winked and added, “Hard.”
I folded my arms across my chest and crinkled my nose. “Sorry, I’ve seen too many movies to want to hang out with a vampire.”
“Fine, fine. No biting,” he said with false disappointment. He took my hand and tugged me gently after my friends.
My feet dragged down the line. It felt as if my sandals were made of iron as I stepped into the swaying bucket. Ben slid in beside me, and the attendant slammed a bar across our laps with a deafening clack. We jolted backward and stopped to let people into the seat in front of us.
“Sorry if it’s weird Natalie asked you to come today,” I blurted. It wasn’t safe for any words to leave my mouth with so many feelings happening at once.
His hands hung loosely over the metal bar. “Why would it be weird?”
“Because we barely know each other.” Although it felt like we did. Maybe it was only weird for me. “And you just met her today.”
The ride moved again, this time keeping a steady pace the entire way around. Natalie and Emery twisted in their bucket to look down at us. “You two behave,” Emery shouted.
I blushed. What had Natalie told her in the last two minutes? Gross exaggerations, obviously. Ones she would pay for with copious amounts of cheesecake. “Ignore them.”
Ben paused, then winked playfully and looked up at my friends. His arm slipped around my shoulders, warm and solid, and Natalie whooped before turning around. When they weren’t looking, his arm slid away slowly. I fought the urge to draw it back. The image of him talking to the voice floated through my mind, and I gripped the bar instead. It wasn’t the first strange thing he’d done. There was the knowing look on his face when the police flew past Howell’s and his odd reaction to the girl with the pen.
Dream Keeper Page 6
