Stalked (A Secret Salem Novel)

by J. N. Colon

  I told him how much this place creeped me out and how I felt like someone was watching me. I even told him how terrified I was when I found Alyssa’s body and how everyone was looking at me like I was even more of a freak. The one thing I left out was what I saw with him, Emmaline, Paisley, and Trevor that night. I couldn’t bring myself to ask what they’d been up to.

  “Rubi, there’s nothing to be afraid of at Highland,” he insisted, sympathy playing across his handsome face. “And I’m sure that animal is long gone by now. It was just a freak accident.”

  I nodded, hoping it was true. “Oh,” I blurted. “And then there’s Brant.”

  Mac stiffened beside me, his eyes darkening. “What about Brant?”

  “He’s dating Aspen who’s my roommate so he’s always around.” I swallowed hard, hesitant to continue from the strange, hard look on his face. “He just sneaks up on me and gives me these weird looks. And says weird stuff…” My voice trailed off as he turned away, staring pensively with tight lips.

  “Is he with Aspen now?”

  “Probably,” I slowly admitted, thinking I shouldn’t have said anything at all from the way he was reacting. “It’s probably just my imagination. I’m being paranoid. It’s this place…” I attempted a lighthearted laugh.

  “Sure.” Mac gave me a tight smile. “I should go. I’ll see you around Rubi.” He jumped up and disappeared around a stack of boxes.

  I leaned against the chaise, my head spinning. I just word vomited my emotional stress all over McCollum Davenport and the thing that had him running away was sharing my suspicions of Brant Dentwood?

  I shook my head at a complete loss and stood, my eyes falling on a dark object lying on the chaise. My heart jumped in my throat, realizing Mac had forgotten his book. And now I had a reason to talk to him tomorrow.

  When I returned to my room Brant was gone and Aspen was dead asleep even though it was only 9:30. And when I say dead I meant it. Her face was pale as a sheet and her cheeks were cold to the touch. If it wasn’t for her obnoxious snoring I might have had to check her pulse.

  My face twisted in a grimace, thinking she could be coming down with something. She better not give it to me.

  I pursed my lips then finally rolled my eyes and decided to be nice. I pulled out an extra blanket and gently laid it over Aspen, tugging it all the way up to her chin.

  A spot on her neck suddenly caught my eye, furrowing my brow. I rolled the sheet back down and slid her auburn hair over, revealing a bruise-like mark on her delicate skin.

  My heart exploded while a jumble of disturbing images shot through my mind. What if Brant got angry and grabbed her? What if he hit her? What if he…?

  I jerked my wild imagination to a rubber burning stop and tossed the sheet back over her. It was probably just a hickey, a very zealous hickey.

  Gross.

  Chapter 9

  I was thoroughly enjoying the lesson in precalculus the next day—yeah right. My dad might be a mathematician, but the only types of equations I liked were me plus hot guy equals good times or me minus steak equals bad. And what was with the whole pre before the calculus? If this is was comes before real calculus I’d prefer stop here.

  Thankfully Professor Larkin was pulled away to his office in the corner of the classroom on a phone call concerning his daughter. The opened blinds gave a nice view of him behind his desk, holding the phone with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. She’d been kicked out of ten boarding schools including Highland and I was guessing number eleven was on the horizon.

  My brows furrowed in thought, wondering what I’d have to do to get kicked out of Highland. Maybe I could cut Professor Forsyth’s mustache off while he’s sleeping and glue it to his bald head.

  An amused smile twisted my lips as I leafed through the professor’s notes on his desk to find the section on graphing cosine. If the state of his desk was any indication of his organization skills with his notes I’d be here for a long time. Papers were scattered everywhere and a coffee mug was stuck in the middle, a brown ring around the bottom seeping onto several papers.

  We were supposed to be independently reviewing our homework, but like any school when the teacher left the room social chaos ensued.

  I finally spotted the correct section, Professor Larkin’s messy handwriting scrolled frantically across the page. I lifted his book to take to my desk when my gray uniform skirt suddenly fluttered up.

  I gasped and spun around to find Paisley towering over me, cruel laughter tumbling from her mouth.

  “Oooh Rubiks. You only wear black lacy panties like that to show them off.” Her saccharine tone oozed from between the malicious smile she was sporting.

  My cheeks burned red as I glanced around, thankful everyone was deep in their own conversations. “Don’t do that again,” I hissed.

  Her sharp angled face held a mask of false innocence. “They’ll just go to waste. How else is anyone going to see them?” She elbowed Sutton next to her, commanding the petite girl to participate in my ridicule. “Right Sutton?”

  Sutton’s hazel eyes turned big. “Um yeah.”

  “It’s not like any guy here thinks about you that way. At least not the ones that count.” Paisley flipped her perfect black locks behind her shoulder, her gray-blue eyes glowing with satisfaction.

  I wondered how she’d feel if she knew I was hanging out with her boyfriend last night alone in a small, intimate, candlelit room. I bet it’d wipe that smug look off her face.

  A tiny, involuntary smile formed across my lips, angering her.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” She crossed her arms against her chest with a sneer.

  “Nothing,” I lied, brushing my own crazy hair off my shoulder.

  She glared down at me, probably drumming up a new line of humiliation. “Your uniform’s looking a little tight Rubiks.” She tugged at my black sweater. “Maybe you should lay off the second helpings at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” She demurely smoothed the lapel of her crimson blazer with manicured fingers. “I think all that food you scarf down is starting to stick.”

  Embarrassment burned my chest and I dropped that stupid grin as my eyes flickered down to scrutinize my body. Had I gained weight? Was my ferocious appetite finally catching up?

  Paisley giggled when she noticed the seed of doubt she planted take root.

  Did Mac know his girlfriend was such a conniving bitch?

  “Paisley?” A guy with auburn brown hair and warm whiskey eyes approached us.

  She peeked over her shoulder. “What?”

  “Mac just passed by. He told me to tell you to meet him in the file room down the hall.”

  Her face lit up with hungry excitement. She turned and dashed out the room without another word, forgetting about my humiliation. Of course Mac could make any girl forget her own name.

  A sour taste entered my mouth, the image of them locking lips getting stuck in my brain.

  So sickening.

  But the boy’s smile grew and he jerked his thumb toward the door. “I just made that up. Think how stupid she’s going to feel standing in a dark file room for an hour, waiting on Mac.”

  We laughed—all three of us. Sutton was still standing there.

  She shrugged, shaking her dark brown hair. “Paisley deserves it.”

  Apparently those two weren’t such good friends after all.

  “And don’t listen to her,” she said as she pivoted toward her desk. “You haven’t gained a pound since you’ve been here and you are so not fat in the least. She’s just jealous.”

  My head snapped back, surprised by her words and feeling a newfound respect for her.

  “She is, you know?”

  “Huh?” I returned my attention to the guy.

  “Paisley’s just jealous she can’t quite fill out her uniform like you do.” His cheeks burned bright red the second he realized what he had said. “I mean…I didn’t mean…it’s just…” He took a deep breath and bashfully ran his han
ds through his hair. “I totally meant that in the most gentlemanly way possible.”

  My cheeks bunched up, releasing a grin I couldn’t contain. “Thanks—I think.” Realization suddenly hit me, recognizing the guy from the basketball court who’d—according to Alyssa—been checking me out.

  “I’m Jackson.”

  “I’m Rubi.”

  “I know.” Chagrin entered his expression. “I’ve seen you around.”

  I twisted a strand of hair around my finger, thinking he was even cuter up close—in a sweet boy next door kind of way. “Well hi.” I perched on the edge on Professor Larkin’s desk, forgetting about his notes.

  “How’s it going so far at Highland?” Jackson asked.

  “It’s okay,” I lied, unwilling to spill my guts like I had last night with Mac. The sheer memory of it made my skin flame. “The place is just a little creepy.”

  Jackson nodded, throwing his auburn brown hair in his warm face, the strands brushing against the line of faded freckles across his cheeks. “You’ll get used to it, but you’d definitely have more fun over in Jenkins Hall.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Jackson beamed and opened his mouth to say something, but the professor stalked in, his brown hair disheveled and face a mask of grim disappointment. I was guessing the official number of schools his daughter had been kicked out of was now eleven.

  On the way to my desk I glanced up and saw Brant passing by the door. He stopped when he noticed me, winking as he ran a hand through his blonde halo of hair.

  Annoyance was the only emotion that evoked and I rolled my eyes. His answer was to lick his lips and blow me a kiss.

  ***

  “Where’d you get that?” Madison asked, motioning with a fuchsia painted fingernail to the small book in my locker.

  My cheeks tinted pink from the memory. “It’s Mac’s.”

  Madison arched a dark brow. “As in Mac Davenport?”

  I attempted to suppress the stupid grin forming on my lips. “Yep.”

  “Since when do you two hang out?”

  “Since last night.”

  “No way.” It wasn’t hard to miss the skepticism lingering in her voice

  I turned to her and tugged playfully on her electric pink scarf that clashed horribly with her crimson uniform sweater. “Yes way.”

  Her eyes flickered behind me, a wolfish grin spreading her lips. “There he is now. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

  “Fine.” I snatched the book, feeling bold, but as I strode in his direction my heart drummed in an angry, violent staccato.

  Mac was lounging by his locker with Paisley, Aspen, Brant and Patrick, saying something incredibly funny because they were all laughing.

  With only mere feet between us I was starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe last night was a fluke.

  I shook myself, determined to shatter my negative self-doubt. It wasn’t a fluke. We sat close in a candlelit room, talking intimately. Secrets were shared, closeness was had. He wouldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen.

  “Mac.” My voice shook with nerves.

  His gaze met mine, electricity charging between us like we were two live wires about to cross paths. Those jade eyes flickered, telling me he felt it too.

  “You left this.” I held out the book.

  Smirking laughter resonated from Brant, breaking the moment between us. “Mac Davenport reading Mark Twain? I don’t think so.”

  Mac’s eyes unexpectedly turned cold and a strange forced smiled crept across his face. “Yeah. You got the wrong guy, Rubiks or whatever your name is.”

  Laughter erupted between them, even people passing by who simply happened to be witnesses to my humiliation.

  A pain so fierce it almost had me clutching my chest stole through my heart. I couldn’t believe he was pretending he didn’t know me at all. Where was the guy who told me about his mother and who comforted me after spilling my guts? Where was the guy who helped me with my locker or the one who pointed out my hoodie in the tree?

  I dropped the hand holding the book and gritted my teeth hard to keep from bursting into tears. “My mistake,” I mumbled and marched back to my locker.

  “Rubi I’m sorry,” Madison said.

  I tossed the book in. “He’s a lying jerk.”

  “I believe you were with him last night.”

  “I wish I never laid eyes on him.” It was only half true.

  Madison gave me a hopeful smile. “You know that Jackson guy in French class thinks you’re totally hot. Maybe you could go out with him.”

  I pictured the boy I met this morning in precalculus—his auburn brown hair, soft whisky eyes, and cute smattering of freckles. “Maybe,” I said to stop the conversation without actually considering it. Mostly.

  She perked up and pinched my cheek. “I’ll see you in French.” She turned and headed gracefully down the hall.

  My eyes flitted to the discarded book in my locker. Now I understood why his mother wrote that message. She knew her son was going to turn into a cold-hearted d-bag.

  ***

  I sat alone in the library, hiding in a back corner after the horrendous day of school. Not only did I get curious glances and insane questions about finding Alyssa’s body, but snickers and smartass remarks echoed from the popular kids. They all thought it was hilarious I used a book to spark a conversation with Mac Dav.

  Ha. If they only knew it really was Mac’s.

  I sighed and twisted my fingers around my unruly hair that decided to be black today. Even though I was totally pissed—and hurt—I wouldn’t show anyone the inscription in the book from his mother to prove it belonged to him. I had higher morals than that.

  Now I didn’t have the chance to anyways because Mac snuck into my locker and took it during class.

  Jerk.

  Shuffling footsteps resonated on the carpet and a tall, fair-haired boy poked his head around the aisle. “Have you seen her?” His voice was soft and dry, barely a husky whisper.

  “Who?”

  Patrick gazed down at me expectantly. “My girlfriend Tatum.” He fidgeted and scooted closer. “Tatum Donnelley.”

  Tatum, Emmaline’s best friend and one of those unnaturally beautiful secret society kids. Something strange involving one of them? Big surprise.

  He tiptoed out of the shadows and stood against the wainscoted wall next to me. “I can’t find her.” Thick desperation permeated each of his words, each syllable trembling with it.

  My brow arched at his odd, uncharacteristic behavior. Just a few hours ago he’d been laughing with them—at yours truly—and now he was exhibiting some freakish half zombie traits.

  So not effing normal.

  His dark eyes were wide and unfocused and face almost as pale as Aspen’s had been last night as if the blood had been sucked right out of his cheeks. His feet shifted and hands fidgeted with his navy sweater.

  “I need to find her.” The desperation thickened, spreading to his expression as it turned wilder and more unhinged by the second.

  I stood, making my movements slow as if he were a skittish animal on the verge of snapping. “I’ll help you find her Patrick.”

  A look of relief washed over his face and he unexpectedly hugged me tight. “Thank you.”

  “Okay.” My voice was muffled against his chest.

  “It’s Rubiks right?”

  “Rubi! And I can’t breathe.”

  He released me, a hopeful, lazy smile crossing his lips. “Do you think we can find her?”

  “Sure.” How hard could it be? And maybe I’d find out what the hell was going on at this school with the popular kids.

  Just before Patrick gripped my hand like a child I noticed an odd pattern drawn on his palm in ink—a series of intricately woven Celtic knots. A slight chill crept across my skin, questioning whether this had something to do with witch craft.

  I inwardly scoffed, thinking it was totally crazy to think that. Right?

  As
we made our way into the chilly night air I wondered if Patrick and Tatum had disappeared to the same place Mac, Paisley, Emmaline, and Trevor had the other night. Someplace secret. Someplace where Emmaline brought that old book.

  “Rubi,” Patrick whined. “I thought you said we could find her.”

  I rolled my eyes because we’d only been walking ten minutes. “We will.” I spoke between clenched teeth, trying hard not to reach over and smack him. My curiosity was the only reason I was doing this and suddenly it didn’t seem that important. Maybe I should let him go off on his own.

  My eyes flickered to Patrick and saw that desperate, pale face mixed with wild eyes and guessed he wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of. My mind drew up an image of him chasing me through the campus.

  “And I’m so thirsty.”

  “What do you want to drink?” I stopped and motioned my hand toward a building. “There’s a vending machine outside the dining hall.”

  “I’m so thirsty.” Suddenly the whiney pitch was gone from his voice, replaced by a low, husky plea.

  I glanced at him and he seemed a little less pathetic needy boy and more menacing guy… who I was alone with… in the dark.

  Gulp.

  “Let’s just go,” I said, attempting to tug him toward the building.

  He grabbed the hood of my gray jacket and yanked me back, spinning me around to face him. I yelped and my heart lodged in my throat, choking my airways. This was exactly why I shouldn’t offer my help. It was always bound to get me in trouble.

  “Rubi, I want to drink.”

  His low voice was borderline threatening, sending shivers through my body and I unsuccessfully tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight. He also wasn’t as skinny as I originally thought now that we were this close and I could feel his sinewy muscles.

  My mind raced as his face approached mine, expecting the worse—and yet having no idea what that was. “Tatum!” It was the only thing that might snap his attention away from me and back to his original quest.