Chapter 36 Neve #2
The scent of lemon and herbs hits my nose, grilled meat, too, and my stomach growls again as Nolan asks where I’m at now.
I slide into the booth at the back that the host extends his hand toward, asking me if it’s okay. From here, I can see the front door, but it’s far enough away I won’t feel it when people go in and out, and the kitchen is right at my back, and so is the staircase that leads down to the restrooms.
Perfect.
No one can sit behind me either, and on the wall opposite my booth, there’s a giant mural of what looks like the Mediterranean Sea, in deep blues and arched architecture. No doubt Cynthia would have better descriptors, but she’s out with Tylone so there’s that.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile to the host as he walks away, bowing slightly. I open up the menu and feel pangs in my low belly as my eyes skip over the feta fries, hummus and pita, and fried calamari.
All things I love. But I hate that full feeling that comes with them.
“I’m eating Greek,” I say to my brother as I unwind my arm from my bag, letting it sit beside me.
“Oh,” Nolan says, and I can already tell the next words out of his mouth are going to be snarky. “Maybe skip the pita and ask for carrots with the hummus.”
If he was sitting across from me, I’d throw up my middle finger. As it is, I simply blow out a breath and say, “Yeah, I’ll ask for carrots, but they’re not for hummus. I think I should take a few and shove them up your ass instead.”
“I’m just trying to help, Neve,” he says softly.
I swallow, my throat feeling tight. “Got it. Anyway. I’ll let you… get back to whatever important lawyer stuff you were doing.” My eyes settle on the salads. Grilled chicken, lemon vinaigrette. Perfect. I’ll eat half, save the other half for lunch tomorrow.
“Discovery,” Nolan says blandly. “Have a good night. Be safe walking back.”
My thoughts flicker to the guy who knocked into me. How Nolan guessed it was a man.
Shake that shit off, Neve. It wasn’t that serious.
Usually I’d say something sarcastic to my brother, keep his mind at ease, and play off any genuine concern he has for me because that feels easier and more comfortable than letting anybody care.
But I just say, “I will,” and after giving our goodnights, I end the call.
After the smiling waitress with a short red bob takes my order, I relax back into the booth and open up my phone.
There’s a text from Cynthia telling me she won’t be home tonight—I grin despite the fact I’ll hate sleeping without her in the apartment—another one from Karter trying to finalize weekend plans, and one more from someone else entirely.
S.C.
You should get the feta fries.
I pop my head up, scanning the restaurant, my heart thundering inside my chest as I clutch my phone. I haven’t heard from Sylvan at all since we last parted over the weekend.
I don’t see him, but I can’t really peer into the booths in front of me, so I get to my feet because fuck this.
Six rows of heads, one belonging to a woman who glares up at me like I’ve peed all over her falafel, but none of them are Sylvan.
I sink back down into my booth.
Stalker, huh?
He replies immediately.
S.C.
More like your guardian nightmare.
It’s hard to sleep at night. The apartment is empty save for me, Blackwell’s is closed, I wish Cynthnia was here, but I’m obviously not going to whine to her while she’s probably getting a much needed lay.
Besides, with all the secrets about her own house I’m keeping from her, she needs to stay far away as much as possible.
I toss and turn, my bedroom door closed and locked since my best friend isn’t here. I scroll through too many videos on my phone, look up the schedule for the Dragons—both games are at home—and think about my Halloween costume.
An elf, because it fits with what I already have.
Not like Santa’s elves. But a black lace dress, leather corset, thigh-high black leather boots.
Tomorrow is my nail appointment and I’m going with matte black.
A lot of shimmer on my face, cat eye liner that I’ve perfected since I wear it nearly every single day, and doing my blond hair so it’s bone-straight…
whether I go out with Faust or not, it’ll be a hot look.
Then again, if it’s below freezing, I might not fucking bother.
I open up Pinterest for more makeup inspo, but a text from Cyn pops up at the top of my screen.
It’s nearly one in the morning.
I’m not surprised she’s up since she’s with her boyfriend, or whatever he is to her, but I’m surprised she’s giving me time this late.
I open up the message, worried for a second something is wrong.
And when I read the text, my blood pressure shoots up and I seriously considering calling Faust and asking if I can sleep over at his place. Or demanding to know if he stalked me over the weekend and suggest he do it again.
Something I’d never do if I wasn’t desperate or terrified, and right now, I feel both.
Cyn
Did you see?! They found another body. Are you home??
I text her back to tell her I’m home and safe, then open up my browser and find the news. Of course, nothing is posted there yet. I go back to social media, type in Drayton U, and it’s all over my feed.
Body found by the science building.
In between the library and Bosphorus, where I ate.
Not many details, and I can’t find the cause of death, which I don’t expect this early. There were no emergency workers there when I left the Greek place, so it had to have happened in the past two hours.
I keep scrolling, reading the comments, looking for anything else at all. Sylvan was nearby because he knew I was at the restaurant.
Then Nolan said… that guy.
My stomach clenches and I sit straight up, glancing at my closed bedroom door.
But it can’t be either of them, right?
Why not?
People always think these types of things won’t happen to them or people they know, but then it does.
Fuck.
I take deep breaths in through my nose, out through my mouth.
Another text from Cyn comes through. She offered to come back and I really want her here but I’m not going to have her walking through campus in the dark.
Even if Tylone drove her, which he better, she still has to head up to our place herself unless she brings him in and either way, I think it’s best for us all to stay put tonight.
Before I can tell her all that, though, another text comes through from her.
It’s a photo.
I feel dizzy. Like my canopy bed is swirling around me. Adrift at sea.
There’s something familiar about the person in the photo.
Amber eyes. A petite nose.
His lips pressed together in a scowl, despite the fact that he’s holding a beer and appears to be at a pool party, an in-ground pool gleaming behind him alongside a cooler full of drinks.
I swallow a lump in my throat when Cyn texts again.
Cyn
Recognize him? They’re saying this is the guy, but it hasn’t been confirmed. If it is him, he didn’t go to our school. Just like…
She doesn’t need to say it.
Just like Will.
Just like Jackson.
Is it a fucking serial killer?
My shoulders are tense, heat and cold running through my body, both at once.
I lift my eyes back up to the guy, trying to remember where I’ve seen him.
But then I notice it.
The tattoo on his neck.
Barely visible at this angle, only a few stars and half the stripes.
The fucking American flag.
The guy who knocked into me on the sidewalk.
Right before I went into Bosphorus.
Right before Sylvan texted me.
Right after Nolan knew a man hit me, before I said a word.
What. The. Fuck.