Don't Let Them Find You (The Dyian Series Book 1)

by Brandy Isaacs

  The knife was still lodged in his chest, so Sydney grabbed another from the counter and turned with it raised high. Short Man caught himself on the counter and came back towards her. He didn’t even look down at the handle protruding from his chest. He just came at her again. She brought the second knife down and buried it to the hilt on the other side of his chest. The man stumbled backwards, but recovered and lurched towards her again. She tried to grab for a third knife but in her haste she accidentally knocked the block over and the knives spilled out and away from her.

  Something that felt like a vise clamped down on her shoulder and yanked her backwards. As she stumbled out of the kitchen she was shocked to see Xander putting himself in front of her and raising something over his head with both hands. When he brought it down on Short Man’s head with a ringing metallic sound, she realized it was the fire extinguisher that normally hung on the wall next to the refrigerator.

  Short Man hit the floor and, even though he was still moving, he wasn’t so quick to get to his feet this time. As he struggled to get off the floor, Xander raised the fire extinguisher again. This time, the man’s skull gave way with a sickening crunch and he stopped moving. Sydney and Xander both stayed in a defensive position, waiting on the man to get up again. But this wasn’t a horror movie. By the look of the visible, soft, pink tissue, he wasn’t going to be a threat again.

  Xander slowly lowered the fire extinguisher. Without looking at her, he spoke, sounding calmer than he should have. “Is this why you needed money?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sydney gulped for air and realized if she didn’t sit down she would collapse. Her entire body felt cold and hollow. She lowered herself into a chair at the dining room table not able to stop glancing between Xander and the man on the floor. Xander carefully sat the fire extinguisher on counter and ran his hands over his shirt as if he was wiping blood off even though there was none there.

  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself as the reality of the situation finally seemed to sink in. “We need to call the police.”

  “No,” Syd gasped, shaking her head.

  Xander raised an eyebrow at her. “Not that I’m one to normally go to the cops, but this kind of calls for it, wouldn’t you say?”

  “No,” she repeated. “I mean, well, yeah. But we can’t.”

  He studied her carefully. “Who are you on the run from?”

  Sydney held his gaze. Lie? Or tell the truth? “I-I don’t know,” she finally admitted, looking away from him and the dead man both. He did just kill someone to save my life, she reasoned.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” she sighed.

  “But you are running from someone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you don’t know who?”

  “No.” I guess I really didn’t spill the beans the night I blacked out.

  “Then how do you know someone is after you?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I think it’s time to tell it,” he gestured toward the dead man. “Who the hell is he?”

  “I don’t know. And do you really think we have time for a story right now?”

  Xander sighed and wiped at his hands again. “I guess not. What are we going to do then?”

  “We?”

  “Yes. We. I’m kind of in this now too.”

  “Fuck.” Sydney hung her head. “You should go.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. But I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

  “I realize that. But I’m in it now.”

  “Really, you should just get out of here. I’ll take care of this.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know! I’ll get rid of the body. Just, all I ask, is that you give me a head start.”

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “A head start before what?”

  “Before you call the cops. Or tell anyone about this or whatever.”

  “And you will be doing what?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

  “Getting the hell out of the city.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “No. You’re not just going to…” he waved his hands around “...whatever this is. And just...run off.”

  “I have to go. I don’t think he’s alone.”

  “Is he a cop?” he winced, dreading her answer.

  “Well, considering he busted in here without a warrant and tried to kill me? I doubt it.”

  “So, it’s not the cops you’re running from?” he asked, sounding relieved.

  Sydney shrugged helplessly. “This better be one hell of a story,” Xander shook his head and turned back to the dead man. “Do you have an extra blanket?”

  “Xander!”

  “Just shut up. Go get a blanket. One that Shay won’t notice is missing.”

  Sydney wanted to argue more, but realized she didn’t have much choice. Short Man was smaller than she was, but she couldn’t carry him out of the apartment. And there was no way she was going to let Shay find this mess. As much as she didn’t want to, she needed to let Xander help her for now. Dammit. Her body still felt hollow and weak as she shuffled down the hall to her bedroom. She pulled an old worn comforter from her closet and returned to the kitchen. Xander was washing off the bottom of the fire extinguisher and glanced at her as he secured it back in its spot on the wall.

  “Help me spread that out.”

  Together they unfolded the blanket next to Short Man and Xander got a garbage bag from under the counter. He lifted the head by the hair and wrinkled his nose at the gore that dripped from the head wound. He slid the garbage bag over the man’s head and, using duct tape, sealed the opening of the bag around his neck. Then he grabbed an arm and nodded at the man’s feet. She was working on autopilot, doing what Xander directed her to do. She gripped the man’s sneaker clad feet and a part of her wondered if Xander had done this before. He was surprisingly calm about the whole process. Syd followed his lead as they rolled the dead man onto the blanket.

  Tucking the blanket around him like a giant burrito, Xander secured the opening with more tape then stood up. “Ok. I’m going to pull my truck into the alley. You go pack a bag.”

  “I already have one packed.”

  Xander looked at her sharply before shaking his head. “Fine. Then clean up the blood...and stuff. When I knock on the fire escape door let me in.”

  “OK.”

  As he left the kitchen he hesitated in front of her. She looked up into his blue eyes and held her breath. She didn’t know what he thinking about saying because he never did. Instead, he shook his head again and hurried out the front door. She listened to his heavy steps pound down the stairs before she jerked herself into action.

  Sydney found an old towel to mop up the blood then stuffed it into another garbage bag. Then she used paper towels and bleach to wipe up the smears that still streaked the floor. By the time she tied the garbage bag Xander was knocking loudly against the door causing her to jump and take a sharp breath.

  She almost expected to find another Short Man on the fire escape instead of Xander. But there he was, looking impatient. “Go get your bag. I’m going to carry him down to the truck. Follow me out.”

  “OK.”

  Xander heaved the little man onto his shoulder and hurried through the door. Sydney worried someone would see him, but it was dark enough she hoped they wouldn’t be able to make out what he was carrying. She hurried back inside for her bag and hesitated before pulling the door shut behind her. This is so bad. Her stomach twisted in knots and she felt like throwing up. She should have known that her escape wouldn’t go smoothly. Why would it? A part of her wanted to bolt through the front door and hop on a bus. But she knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t leave Xander to clean up the mess. He was her friend and he didn’t deserve that.

  A loud thump shook her out of the panicked thoughts. She realized it was the sound of Xander dropping the man into his truck and she shuddered. By the time sh
e got to the ground he was covering the human burrito with an old tarp and secured it heavy tool boxes. She was silently thanking luck that Xander hadn’t driven the tow truck back to her house when he hopped over the side and landed in front of her.

  Taking her bag, he tossed it in the back and pushed her towards the passenger door. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My garage. You can stay there until we figure out what to do.”

  Xander

  Xander flexed his hands and tried to calm himself. He needed to at least look calm even if he didn’t feel it. Otherwise, Sydney was going to freak out worse. He knew instinctively that his own panic would only fire her anxiety up more. He could hear her struggling to breathe normally and he synced his breaths to hers. Subconsciously, they fell into a rhythm that matched and they both grew calmer, Sydney helping him as much as he was helping her.

  He kept remembering the crunch of the fire extinguisher as it met the guy’s skull. It caused long buried memories to rise to the surface and he shook his head to clear them. The reality of what he had done was sinking in but he tried to brush off the guilt. The guy was a monster who had broken into Shay and Sydney’s apartment. He deserved what he got. Xander didn't feel bad for that. But not calling the cops was what made him feel uneasy. Not that he was an upstanding and model citizen—far from it. But running or hiding from the cops complicated the entire situation.

  There were multiple reasons why he let Syd convince him to not go to the police. And not the least of which was the fact that they would be really hesitant to believe it was self-defense or just defending his friend, not once they took a look at his records. Shit, he thought. He glanced at Sydney and tried to process the fact she was on the run. He imagined abusive boyfriend, a sick-bastard of a father. Criminal? That wasn’t a label he easily attached to the quiet, dark haired woman that had thrown him for such a loop.

  He had come to their apartment because he had a bad feeling. He could think of a few reasons why Sydney would suddenly need a bunch of money. But the most likely? She was going to run. And he knew it was his fault. He had pushed her too much and apparently running was still appealing to her. Damn it Sherry, he had cursed. She made it seem so simple—make her not want to run anymore. He had figured if he showed her she wasn’t alone, she would want to stay still, maybe even move forward, but it apparently had the opposite effect.

  Once the idea of Sydney leaving was in his head, he couldn’t rest easy until he went to convince her to stay. He was going to do everything he could to stop her. He would promise he would never try to hang out with her again. As long as she was close, he told himself, it doesn’t matter that she isn’t with me. Just being her friend would be fine. That was enough. He had known he was lying to himself, but he didn’t care. If Sydney ran, Shay would be upset and would know he had messed up. His sister seemed like an uncontainable force bouncing from one idea to the next. But she quietly watched people more than she let on. She knew he had been drawing Sydney out and she was just quietly letting it happen.

  Not that Shay would hold it against him, but he didn't want Shay feeling sorry for him either. And Shay was good for Sydney. He got the feeling that Syd didn’t have—maybe never had—a support system. But now she did. She had friends who were looking out for her but if she ran she would be on her own. Xander didn’t want to think about what could happen to someone who was broke, running, and on the streets. It was unnecessary and risky and he refused to let it be his fault that Sydney ended up there.

  So, instead, he had come to the apartment to promise to leave her alone. Instead, he had killed a man. Even though he was saving Sydney’s life in the process, she wasn’t going to appreciate it. As someone who wanted to keep people as far away as possible, she wasn’t going to be grateful that she was indebted to him. He ran his hand over his jaw and sighed quietly. He needed to tread carefully, he didn’t care about danger or the cops, not really. But he didn’t want to make things worse for Sydney. He needed her to trust him if she was going to let him help her, and that’s what he intended to do. She was family now, and family stuck together.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sydney and Xander rode in silence. Sydney was quiet because she didn’t know what to say. How did you begin explaining the crazy life she had been living for the past few months? How would anyone believe that? Furthermore, how did you apologize for dragging someone else into the mess? Every so often she would peek out of the corner of her eye at Xander. She could see his jaw muscles flexing underneath his thin beard and his knuckles turning white as they tightened against the steering wheel.

  Syd wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but she knew it couldn’t be good. Anxiety twisted in her belly. She would like to say that Xander was the last person she wanted to drag into this situation, but that wasn’t actually true. Out of all her friends he was probably the most capable of handling this situation. Hell, she thought, he sells drugs. Who knows what kind of shit he’s seen. But, then again, he did say he doesn’t sell to a lot of people. Does that even make him a legit dealer? Why is he helping me then? Shay had dropped some hints that Xander had been in trouble before. Sydney had taken that to mean jail and, not for the first time, she wondered what he had done.

  Before she knew it Xander was rolling into the parking lot of his garage. He pushed a button clipped to his visor and one of the bay doors rolled up and he slowly drove inside. The rattle of the truck engine was loud as it echoed off the concrete walls and floor but when he shut the engine off the silence was even louder. Syd followed Xander’s lead and climbed out of the truck breathing in the smell of oil and paint. It reminded her of the first time she came here. And I thought I had a lot to be worried about then. He hesitated at the side of the truck bed before jerkily turning away and hurrying towards the small office area. Sydney followed, glancing back at the tarp covered bundle in the back of the truck.

  In the office Xander pointed at the couch, “Sit,” he commanded. Sydney didn’t argue and plopped onto the cracked, faux leather sofa. He retrieved two beers from the small fridge and popped the caps off and handed one to her. She gulped at the beer so hard the suction hurt her mouth. She pulled the bottle away with a loud wet smack and wished he had brought out the weed instead. She needed the foggy brain that it would bring. “Alright. Out with it.” She sighed heavily. “The whole story,” he demanded.

  Sydney took another drink. A stall tactic and he knew it, but he gave her a moment. “I have no idea who I am or where I came from?”

  “What?” He looked at her as if she had just grown an extra head.

  “Just let me tell the story.”

  Sydney didn’t look at him as she recounted the morning when she woke up next to Lake Michigan. “I was dirty. In pain. And confused. That’s a terrible feeling, you know. Not having any idea who you are, where you are...or why. It just feels…lost.” She took another drink and tried to not show how bad she was shaking. “I don’t even have words to describe just how lost and scared I felt.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I ran.”

  “You didn’t find help? A hospital? Or the police?”

  “No. From what I could tell I just had a broken nose. No other worse injuries—despite not being able to remember anything.”

  “But why run? What were you running from?”

  She finally glanced at him before answering. She was relieved that he didn’t look like he doubted her. His face was at least neutral. “Because I had a message on my arm.”

  “A message?”

  “Yeah. On my arm...someone-I wrote ‘Don’t let them find you.’”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you wrote it? Or someone else did?”

  “I did. I think.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I just kind of knew.” She shrugged. It sounded so flimsy now. “It just made sense, I guess. I knew that I was right handed. The words were on my left arm.” She ran her
hand over her forearm as she spoke, remembering their greasy feel. “I think it was eye liner or something. And it just seemed like they were written in a hurry. Slashed on. Plus, I couldn’t figure out why someone would care enough to warn me, then just...I don’t know...leave me?”

  “And you took it seriously?”

  “Wouldn’t you? I was on the side of a lake and couldn’t remember the first thing about myself. But, you’re forgetting the weirder part. How did someone know I would need a message?” Xander raised his brows. “Right,” she nodded. “How in the world could anyone know I was going to lose my memory and need a warning? That, more than anything else, made me take it seriously. As weird and as fucked as the whole situation was, whoever left the message knew I would need it. And as crazy and improbable as it was—they were right.”

  Sitting in an office chair across from her, Xander rested his face in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. “That’s just nuts,” he said, picking his beer back up off the floor.

  “I know. Try having it happen to you.”

  “Well, what did you do?”

  “I ran,” Syd said again. “Eventually, I made it to a farm, without anyone seeing me. I cleaned up. Stole some clothes and food and started walking. I avoided everyone because I had no idea who I was running from. I still don’t…”

  “And you think the guy I killed,” Sydney flinched even though he didn’t. “You think he was who you were running from?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Because you’re safe now?”

  “No. Because if he wasn’t the one I was running from then how the hell many people are after me.”