Inescapable (The Premonition Series)

by Bartol, Amy A

“No, I didn’t know that,” I reply, feeling ashamed of my behavior.

  “Aren’t you afraid that this firewall is going to send him mixed signals?” he asks me pointedly. “I mean, that’s why you’re in the loneliest place in the library, right, so you won’t run into Russell?”

  “It’s that obvious, huh?” I ask, chewing on my lip.

  “BFO, blinding flash of obvious,” he states brutally.

  “What gift can I give him, Freddie, that says, ‘You’re probably the best thing that could ever happen to me, but I can’t be with you?’” I ask him dejectedly. “Because I’ll run right out and get it, regardless of the cost.”

  “I don’t know, Evie, but I don’t think you’ll accomplish that with a firewall,” he says with pity.

  “Well, maybe it will say, ‘I can’t give you what you want, but I can give you what you need,’” I say sadly.

  “A firewall is for protection. What are you protecting him from?” Freddie asks me.

  I stare at him in shock; he has an uncanny knack of reading me. I will have to be careful of what I say around him. He is way too intuitive for his own good. “I hadn’t realized the doctor was in, Freddie. Are you a Psych major or something?”

  “Yeah.” He smiles. “How’d you know?” he asks.

  “You’re going to be way too expensive for me when you open your practice,” I say, smiling at him sincerely.

  “The couch is always open to you,” he says kindly. “I’ll pick you up at nine on Saturday?” he asks me. “To get the firewall…” he adds, when he sees my confusion.

  “Yeah, Freddie. Thanks,” I reply gratefully.

  When I return to my room, there is a note attached to my window. Opening it, I read it quickly:

  Dear Evie,

  I have to leave town for the weekend. If you need me, please contact me on my cell phone. Stay out of trouble and remember the rules. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

  Reed

  I read Reed’s note several times before I crumble it up, throwing it in the garbage can. It remains in the garbage can for at least five minutes before I pull it out, ironing the wrinkled paper with my hands. I read it again, and then it is back in the garbage can again. That note is the most disappointing letter I’ve ever received.

  Not only will I not be able to see Reed all weekend, but he also doesn’t say where he is going or what he is doing. He doesn’t say definitively that he’ll be back when the weekend is over either. He tells me to stay out of trouble—like that’s an option given my current lifestyle—and there is the fact that he doesn’t even leave an endearment in there to savor. I’m not counting the “Dear Evie” part because that’s just how you’re supposed to open a letter. Some boyfriend.

  Then my paranoid side kicks in, and I start wondering if he is avoiding me. Ugh! Well, good luck because you’re stuck with me, I think. He did leave a note, I admit after sitting on my bed dejectedly for a while. Still lame.

  Buns and Brownie save me from spending the night in a deep depression when they come bounding into my room, insisting that I go with them to the party at the Delt House. “The theme is, ‘Peeping Toms and Soccer Moms,’” Brownie informs me while throwing open my closet and rummaging through it.

  Despite everything, I laugh. “That’s so funny,” I smile. “Are you going to dress up?”

  “We’re going to try to look like MILFs,” Brownie shrugs. “We were thinking of going so that we could check out the composite we want to take for the war. I think those things are screwed into the wall, so we can’t just lift them off—we’ll need a screwdriver.”

  I nod my head. “One of those battery-powered screwdrivers would be the fastest. It may make some noise, but not enough for them to hear us if they’re having a house meeting. When do the Delts meet again?” I ask.

  “Wednesdays, sweetie,” Buns reminds me. “I’ll buy a battery-powered screwdriver.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to get in their house late at night?” I ask.

  “Sweetie, it’s a frat house. There is always someone awake at night in a frat house. I swear those guys play their game consoles all night long,” Buns says, sounding annoyed. “I can’t wait until you see the cute little spy outfits we got online. Yours will look great on you, and it will be very helpful if you get caught because you’ll look too cute to torture.”

  “A duel purpose, lovely,” I reply. “I don’t plan on getting caught, though.”

  “Does this say MILF or MIRF?” Brownie asks, holding up a short black skirt.

  “What’s MIRF?” I ask Buns, trying to figure out the new acronym.

  “Oh, it means, ‘Mom I’d Run From,’” Buns says helpfully.

  Brownie finally opts for a short skirt and blouse. When I put them on, she makes me turn around and applies a bumper sticker to my bum that reads: “Proud Parent of an Honor Roll Student at Crestwood Elementary,” like I’m a minivan or something.

  “You know what would look good with this? The gold bangle bracelets Elise gave me,” Buns says.

  “Gold bangles?” I ask, with a crooked smile. “I thought we were supposed to look like soccer moms.”

  “We’ll be the LA soccer moms with the au pairs and botox,” Brownie says with a cheeky grin.

  When Buns returns with the bracelets, I put them on, and I have to admit, they’re very beautiful. The bracelets make a musical kind of clicking sound when I move my wrist that is kind of sweet, too.

  We walk to the Delt House together and when we near it, JT stands up on the railing of the deck and shouts, “Buns!”

  “Sweetie!” Buns calls back in typical Buns fashion.

  “Ladies, welcome to the Delt House,” JT says, sweeping his arms wide. “Pete, look who’s here,” he says, indicating Brownie. “And Evie! Pete, quick, get her a beer before she passes out,” he says, grinning at me while holding up the peeping torn binoculars from around his neck. “Have you ever been here before, Evie?” JT asks me.

  “Once, when I visited the college for a campus tour,” I say, while mentally counting the number of steps it takes to reach the front door from the porch. JT gives us a guided tour of the Delt House; I pay particular attention when he shows us the billiard room that is lined with the most recent composites for the house.

  When our tour progresses to other parts of the house, I make the excuse of having to go to the bathroom, telling my group that I’ll catch up with them afterward. I quickly go back downstairs to the rooms near the billiard room. I’m looking for a utility closet for something we’re planning. I luck out when I locate one in the hallway near the billiard room. It’s perfect for what I have in mind. It is the size of a walk-in pantry and it’s only being utilized for cleaning supplies and toiletries.

  On a whim, I check the room on the other side of the utility closet. This room is a den with comfortable brown-leather armchairs and low, polished wooden tables that are perfect for spreading out books. As I admire the dark wooden wainscot that circles the room, I notice that I’m not alone. My eyes briefly rest on a couple kissing in the corner, and I quickly look away from them, embarrassed to have barged in on a private moment between them.

  I start to back out of the room when recognition hits me; my attention shifts back to the lovers entwined. Russell, sitting in the armchair with a cute little blond on his lap, is to use his own words, helping himself to her. Jealousy like I’ve never known before courses savagely through me. I flush hot and then cold in a matter of seconds. Standing frozen, I finally regain my composure and continue to back out of the room.

  Grasping the handle of the door gently, I try not to make a sound, but the bangle bracelets on my wrist click together, alerting Russell to my presence. Russell’s brown eyes lock on mine for a brief moment before I dart out of the room. From behind the closed door, I hear him say, “Ahh shoot, Red, holdup!”

  In the hallway, I frantically begin looking around for a place to hide. I immediately duck into the utility closet and close the door. Standing there, panting in the
dark, I try to make sense of everything I had seen in the room next door. Had I really just walked in on the love of my past several—I don’t even know how many—lifetimes macking on some girl he just met? I wonder stupidly as hurt and betrayal war inside of me, vying for supremacy.

  It’s unreasonable for me to feel this way, given the fact that I know that I can’t be with Russell. This is undoubtedly the best thing for him, but, at this moment, rational thought has no place in my world of hurt. I back up from the door until I come up against the far wall of the closet. I slide down the wall to sit on the floor among the shelves full of rolls of toilet paper and refill bags of liquid hand soap. When the shock of seeing Russell with someone else begins to wear off, I realize that all I want to do is go home and cry.

  Hot tears well up in my eyes as I grit my teeth in an effort to keep them back. I can’t cry now… not here with all of these people around to witness it. I have to get out of here.

  I don’t try to move when the doorknob of the closet turns and the door begins to open. Light from the hallway slowly falls on my face, and then I hear Russell’s sigh of relief. He quickly slips into the closet, shutting the door behind him. He slides down the door to sit in front of me, blocking out most of the light and making it hard to see his face. Our feet touch as they meet in the middle of the closet, but neither of us speaks for a while, until Russell asks, “Red, why is it that I feel like I need to apologize to ya for this?”

  “You don’t, Russell, but I’d be lying to you if I said it doesn’t hurt,” I reply softly, knowing exactly why he feels like he needs to apologize. It’s our connection to one another that is tearing little pieces of his heart away and mine, too. But, I can’t tell him that, any more than I can stop it from happening.

  “Yeah, well, I can say that I know how ya feel,” he replies. In a frustrated tone, he asks, “Why’s this happenin’, Red? I can’t be the only one who thinks that we’re perfect together. I can see it in yer eyes when ya look at me. Just tell me what’s goin’ on. Is Reed really yer boyfriend?” Russell asks as if the thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He doesn’t wait for my answer before he says, ‘“Cuz I gotta tell ya, Red, I see you with him, and it eats me up inside.”

  This is it—this is the moment that I’ve been dreading since I realized what I am, and more importantly, what I’m not. I’m not human enough for Russell, if I was, this may not have been a forgone conclusion. If there was no Reed and my undeniable attraction to him, I know I would’ve been happy with Russell. We would’ve been perfect for each other, but that isn’t safe for Russell. I have to keep Russell safe from what I am and what I’m going to become. He’ll always be in danger if he’s around me, especially if other angels discover that I exist.

  My throat constricts, making it almost impossible to speak, but I manage to ask softly, “Russell, what is that girl’s name that you were kissing?”

  Russell replies gruffly, “Candace…but it’s not what it looked like, or maybe it’s exactly what it looked like, but ya shut me down, and I saw ya with Reed. Are all y’all together…”

  “Yes,” I say cutting him off. “Reed is my…boyfriend. I’m with him, so you should go and see if Candace is still available because I’m not,” I finish, nearly choking on the last couple of words.

  I’m grateful that it’s dark in the closet because I don’t think I would survive seeing the pain I’ve caused him with my words. I’m barely surviving the pain I’ve caused myself with my words. Russell is quiet for a while as if processing what I had said to him. I listen to his steady breathing while suppressing the urge that I have to jump up, throw my arms around him, and try to comfort him.

  I am concentrating so hard on remaining where I am that he startles me as he says, “Genevieve, just so ya know, this wouldn’t hurt y’all so much if y’all were makin’ the right decision.” Rising from the floor, he leaves the closet, gently closing the door behind him.

  Or, maybe because it does hurt so much, it makes it the right decision, I think sadly as I hear him walk away from the door. When I know that he is gone, I leave the oppressive closet and go to find the girls. Whispering covertly to them, I tell them I have some information regarding the composite that I need to write down before I forget it. I explain to them that I’m going back to my room, and when they say they’ll come too, I persuade them to stay and have fun. I want to be alone.

  Walking back to my room, I jot down what I can recall regarding the composite, and then I change into my pajamas and go to bed. As I lay awake, crying my heart out into my pillow, I vow that these are the last tears that I’ll cry for Russell.

  I spend the next morning worrying about Reed and wondering where he is and what he is doing. This doesn’t help lighten my mood when Freddie picks me up in his white Mercedes and we start on the road to Coldwater. I’m cranky from not getting much sleep last night.

  “Freddie, this looks suspiciously like an import. Aren’t you from around Detroit? Shouldn’t you be driving a car made in Detroit?” I ask as I half tease him and half scold him.

  Freddie puts his index finger to his lips. “Shh, Evie, she’ll hear you. She was a graduation present from the rents,” he says, petting his steering wheel and grinning. “What’s up with you? Late night party?” Freddie asks me sweetly, reading my mood.

  “Not exactly,” I say, and then everything that happened with Russell last night comes tumbling out of my mouth in a rush of uncontrolled emotion.

  Freddie lets me talk, listening quietly without interrupting me as I pick apart every detail and nuance that occurred. “And now, I’m going to Coldwater to get him a stupid firewall. I bet Candace wouldn’t go all the way to Coldwater to get him a stupid firewall,” I say scathingly.

  Freddie’s eyebrow arches as he says, “I bet you’re right, Evie. I’m sure Russell would prefer your firewall to her firewall and your software, too. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have followed you into that closet last night, but you already know that.”

  I exhale slowly. Freddie’s telling me that last night is the direct result of the decisions I’ve made. But I can’t explain to him why I have to do this to protect Russell or the way I feel about Reed.

  I sigh, “I know, Freddie, but it’s like there are these two sides of me, and one side wants Reed, and the other side wants Russell. I just want to be whole again.”

  “You will be, Evie. You’ll figure it out, and in the meantime, we can take care of Russell’s computer so that Candace can send him emails,” he says playfully, looking at me with a cheeky smile on his face. I stick my tongue out at him as if he’s my bratty brother.

  We make it to Coldwater and find an electronics store that stocks firewalls. It doesn’t take me long to pick one out because they only have a couple of models. I make the purchase, and then Freddie and I leave the store. When we stumble upon a small coffee shop, we go in and order a couple of coffees to go.

  As we exit with our café lattes, heading to Freddie’s car, I fumble with the plastic lid of my cup, dropping it on the pavement. Bending down to pick it up, I notice a young man passing me on his way into the shop. I admire his tailored, black-leather jacket before a shiver makes the hair on my arms stand up. Something about the man strikes me as being off. I can’t put my finger on it until I stand up and notice his shadow on the ground. It isn’t walking away; it is facing me.

  I feel myself growing pale, and my breath rasps along with the rapid pounding of my heart. I study the darkly twisting shadow; it moves like a separate entity. The coffee lid slips from my numb fingers again and a few moments lapse before I can make my legs move. Hurrying to Freddie’s car, I spill coffee over the rim of my cup. Freddie unlocks the doors and starts the engine.

  Climbing into his car, I lock the doors before peering out the back window. As Freddie pulls out of the parking lot, the man with the dysfunctional shadow stands by the coffee shop door, watching our car drive away. I shiver in dread, wondering, What was that thing? I scan the auxiliary mirror to see if
he’s following us. He noticed me, or at least his shadow did, I think as I shudder in fear again.

  Freddie notices that something is wrong and says, “Evie, are you okay? You look pale.”

  “Uhh, yeah, Freddie, I’m fine, my coffee is just a little bitter. I should’ve added some more sugar,” I say, using a napkin to wipe the coffee off of my hand.

  I burned it when I had spilled my coffee, but I ignore the pain, knowing that it will probably be healed by the time we get back to Crestwood. I use my napkin to cover my hand so that Freddie won’t notice my burn. Leaning back against the seat, I close my eyes. This was a bad idea, I think and wonder how I’m going to explain what I saw to Reed when I’m not even supposed to be in Coldwater.

  He’s going to be one hostile angel when I tell him what I did. He wasn’t here to ask, I think grasping at straws, but then I look at my cell phone, and I can already hear the argument that I hadn’t even tried to call him. I worry about the shadow man all the way back to Crestwood as Freddie discusses how he will install the firewall in Russell’s room for me. Freddie doesn’t seem to notice my tension before he drops me off in the parking lot of my dorm.

  The drums of the marching band playing at the field house echo outside my window. Russell’s first game is going to start any minute. I had planned on going to support him, but my being there would probably have the opposite effect on him right now. I’m probably the last person on earth he wants to see, I think, and that fact makes me more miserable than I can say.

  Lying on my bed, I become aware that I really miss Reed, which is pathetic because he has only been gone a little more than a day. It doesn’t take long for me to break down and try to reach him on my cell phone. I am disappointed when he doesn’t answer. As I listen to his sexy voice on his voicemail message, I wish that I had some way to record it so that I could play it back over and over again like an obsessed groupie.

  When I hear the beep that indicates that I should leave a message, I am at a loss as to what to say because I hadn’t planned the call at all. My voice sounds almost breathless as I say, “Hi, Reed, it’s Evie…I miss you…come home soon.” Hanging up the phone, I cringe and cover my face with my hands when I think of the message I just left. You’re so not a playa.