14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter fourteen
Carter
The street is dark, the bright headlights hitting my vision just right every now and then so I can’t see a thing. Snow mounds sit on the edge of the sidewalk; some cars still covered in snow on the other side. The ground glistens from the melted snow.
Ryan laughs beside me, reaching to take my hand. He brings it to his lips to kiss. They’re warm against the cold air.
“You need to wear the mittens I bought you,” he scolds.
“I don’t like things on my hands. It’s… containing.”
He laughs again, squeezing my hand. “You don’t mind this.”
“Nope,” I say with a smile. “And I never will.”
We pass by many people on the sidewalk, even this late at night. New York is always busy. It’s called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Ryan and I are out late at night often, so we see a lot of this crowd. A lot of times it’s calm, just people like us, getting from point A to point B.
“Come on, let’s cut through here.” Ryan gestures to the alleyway we’ve taken a hundred times before.
There’s a heavy ball in my chest at his suggestion though. Something about tonight feels different.
“Let’s just go around.”
“What the hell?” he says with a laugh. “No way. It’s freezing. I like the cold, but not that much. Come on.”
I don’t argue, just follow his lead. We do this all the time. I’m sure it’ll be fine.
There’s rustling. Some banging. It’s out of place. Not the typical sounds that we hear when coming down this alley.
“Hey!” Ryan shouts, letting go of my hand. He steps forward. “Get the fuck off her!”
I don’t realize what’s going on. It doesn’t make sense.
My brain can’t comprehend what’s going on.
I stand there frozen as Ryan moves forward.
As a woman takes off crying. As a man comes from the shadows and attacks Ryan.
He cries out. Falls to the ground. The man disappears.
My feet are rooted to the ground. It happens so quickly, yet in slow motion at the same time.
When I see the blood, I fall to my knees. Ryan is right there, just out of reach. I hold my arm out, wanting to hold him, to save him, but I can’t move. I’m stuck. I’m frozen.
“Carter,” he rasps out. “Carter, please—”
Tears fill my eyes. Emotion clogs my throat.
My chest tightens, and I can’t breathe.
“Ryan!” I scream. “Ryan, take my hand.”
“I can’t. I can’t reach you.” He shakes his head, blood oozing out from around his hand that’s pressed to his side. His eyes go wide. Then the light in them dies out. Blood pools around him. Bigger and bigger and bigger until it’s flooding up to my chest. Then my neck. Then—
I shoot upright, my shirt clinging to my sweat-soaked skin.
I throw the blankets off and get to my feet, running my hand through my hair.
It’s cooler out here but I’m still overheating.
The sheets are damp from the sweat, but I can’t change them right now.
The only other set I have is dirty too. For the same reason.
I go to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face and neck, and I toss my shirt into the hamper.
I avoid my reflection in the mirror because I hate seeing myself like this.
I’m a fucking mess.
When I get back to my bedroom, I check my phone. It’s only two in the morning. I fell asleep just two short hours ago.
I sit on the end of my bed. “Fucking nightmares.”
My gaze goes to the necklace on my bedside table and then to the boxes in the corner.
Ryan’s things. One of these days, I’m going to go through it all.
Put them away. Do something with them. I swear it’s them that keeps giving me nightmares.
I see them when I go to sleep. Guilt eats away at me as my head hits the pillow and those are the thoughts in my head when I fall asleep.
I need something more positive before bed.
Get some good dreams instead of these nightmares that keep waking up with my heart pounding out of my chest.
They’re always different.
They start off the same. Me and Ryan walking. Taking the alleyway even though I tell him I don’t want to.
I didn’t tell him that that night, but if I had…
Maybe he’d have listened.
I always watch him die in my dreams. Witness the light leave his eyes. It’s always so obvious, more so then it would be in real life.
That didn’t happen either, but dreams are fucked. He died on the surgical table, surrounded by strangers and without me. Probably scared and—
And I can’t think about that.
It’s been a while since nightmares haunted me like this, but ever since the detective showed up, they’ve come back with a vengeance. Maybe if the case is solved, if Ryan’s murderer is caught, the nightmares will stop for good.
I wonder if he’s awake. The detective. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep, and he said I could call him whenever I needed. Right now, I don’t want to be alone. I feel sick. I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack. I need a distraction, so I dial his number before I can think better of it.
“Carter. Is everything okay?” he answers, sounding like he wasn’t sleeping at all.
Good. I’d have felt bad if I woke him.
“Yeah,” I rasp out, then clear my throat. “Sorry, I just… nightmare.”
It sounds so stupid coming out of my mouth. I’m a grown man calling another grown man over a bad dream. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I get them sometimes, too,” he says.
Really? Or is he just saying that? I don’t ask because it also feels silly.
“You weren’t sleeping?”
“No. Just working.”
“You always work this late?”
“When there’s work to do, yeah.”
“Do you have any new information?” I ask, moving over to sit with my back against the headboard.
It’s been a week since I met with him last, and though he’s checked in now and then, I haven’t heard much.
“New information? No. But I do have some news.”
“Oh?”
“I have a team now.”
“A team?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles in disbelief. “Bitched at my boss last week, and today, I got a team of two people to help with field work.”
“Wow. That must be a relief.”
“A little, yeah.”
“A little?”
“I just like doing things myself. You know, so they’re done right.”
“But you’re only one person and there are only so many hours in the day.”
“Unfortunately.”
I hear a desk chair moving. A drawer opening.
“Are you still at the office?”
“Home office.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Some may think, but it gives me something to do.” Then he lowers his voice and says in a somewhat playful tone, “Though, I did promise myself I wouldn’t use the office for work.”
“What’s the point in having it then?”
“Clearly, I was just lying to myself.”
I lie back, my heartbeat slowing back to a normal rhythm. I don’t feel like I’m overheating anymore. And I can breathe normally.
“What ever happened to having fun?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
I stay silent for a long moment, just enjoying this little bit of calm I’m feeling after such a big event. Nightmares always mess me up, and I don’t usually calm down this quickly.
“I want to have fun. I just don’t know how to without Ryan.”
“You know how to,” he says. “You just feel guilty that you can and he can’t.”
I grit my teeth, my throat burning. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know him, but I can see how much you love him.” He said love. Not loved. “And I know enough about you to know you wouldn’t love someone who treated you badly. That tells me he’d want you to be happy, Carter. He’d want you to have fun. To live your life.”
A choked sound leaves my throat, and I try to hide it by clearing it. Don’t think it works.
“You know, you’d think he and I had been married for our whole lives with the way I don’t know how to live without him.”
“Things like that aren’t measured in time. Sometimes you feel your life doesn’t start until you meet someone special.”
“Is that emotion I hear?” I joke.
“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters.
I smile, reaching for the blankets to cover myself. I’m no longer sweating, and the cold is seeping in through the windows.
“So how is your team? Did you come up with a name for them?”
“Don’t be silly,” he scolds. “And they’re competent, so that’s a start. They’ve been around for a few years, partners for one. Been looking for promotions. They got me.”
Sounds like a promotion to me.
“Well, I know enough about you to know you wouldn’t say something that wasn’t true, so this sounds like a good thing.” I yawn, unable to hold it back. “I should go back to bed. Work in the morning.”
“Call me back if you can’t sleep.”
“You should sleep.”
“I will. Soon.”
A smile tugs at my lips as my eyes fall closed.
“Good night, Nash.”
“Night, Carter.”
I push the cart down the aisle and slip books back into their spots.
The library is quiet this morning, with Eileen out on an appointment.
She’ll be in before noon, but she isn’t really needed.
This place can usually run on one staff without a problem, it’s only when we have events that we need more people.
Something about this place, about being around books, makes me comfortable.
It’s one of the only places I feel at peace.
I think it’s something about the smell. It has to be a chemical thing, right?
Like actually calming down my brain? I know it’s a commonly enjoyed scent—books.
People crack them open and smell them all the time.
It’s why libraries are always quiet. People don’t always follow rules, and of course there have been problems, but there is something about a library that makes people calm and want to be quiet.
Some people smile as I pass them with the cart. Others are so occupied by what they’re doing they don’t even notice me.
Then I get to the romance section to put away a few books. There’s a man there, roughly about my age. Taller than me, dark hair and light eyes. Always dressed in a button up and slacks, like he has a fancy job somewhere. I’ve seen him here a few times. He smiles brightly.
“How are you?” he asks softly.
“Well, and you?”
“Just great.”
I nod and pause a few feet away to put the books back onto the shelves.
“Could you help me find something?” he then asks.
“Of course. What book do you need help finding?”
“My book club chose for us to read Wuthering Heights, since most of us haven’t read it or don’t remember it.”
“Ah,” I say with a smile. “Well, that wouldn’t be in the romance section.”
He raises his brow. “It wouldn’t?”
“I won’t spoil it, but no. It’s in the classics section, specifically British Literature, which is on the far wall. Do you want me to walk you?”
He smiles. “No, I think I can find it. Thank you.”
“Any time.”
He walks away and I feel bad for him if he’s about to be destroyed by that book.
I’d gone into it thinking it was a romance too.
I was devastated when it came to the end.
I heard they just made a movie, but I can’t bring myself to watch it.
I avoid sad movies these days. Actually, I guess I avoid the good ones too.
It’s hard to watch anything anymore because movies were another one of Ryan’s favorite things.
He especially loved watching the ones based on books so he could compare.
The books always were better in his opinion.
It’s how we started dating, actually. I’d won a free book box, and in it was a book that had turned into a film.
Ryan saw me reading the book in a coffee shop and instantly started shit with me—playfully of course.
He’d told me that he hoped I was reading the book before the movie and not only reading it because I saw the movie. I didn’t even know it was a movie.
We had our first kiss during The Notebook, the first of a Nicholas Sparks movie marathon that lasted a whole week because of work and other obligations.
They’re all good, of course. Sad as hell.
My number one is The Best of Me. I don’t care what anyone says, that’s by far the saddest movie I’ve ever seen in my life.
A throat clears near me, and I blink myself back to reality.
“Hi, sorry,” the same man says. “But I can’t find it.”
I smile. “No worries. I was just daydreaming. Sorry.”
“Easy to do around here, I guess.”
“Sure is.”
We walk to the section where the book should be, but it isn’t here.
“Let me check the computer.”
He follows me over to the desk, which is around a privacy wall that’s supposed to help keep the noise on this side to a minimum to not disturb others.
I log into the computer and do a search for the book.
“Well, that would be why.” I look up at the man waiting. “All of our copies are out.”
“Damn,” he mutters, tapping his finger on the counter.
“Let me check something…” I click around to see the other locations. If there is one nearby, he can just go get that one.
“There’s one at the main library,” I offer.
“Are you able to hold it?”
“I’ll give them a call. Can you head over there now?”
“Sure can. Don’t want to disappoint book club.”
I pick up the phone, holding it to my ear as I say, “I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Of course. Have a great day. And let me know what you think about the book.”
He chuckles. “Now you’re worrying me.”
It’s strange to think some people still haven’t read or heard of the book, but I guess if you don’t have a reason to read it, it’s not something you just pick up for fun. That’s the classics for you.
After calling the other library to let them know someone is on the way for a copy of Wuthering Heights, I go back to putting books away, helping readers here and there.
Eileen comes in around eleven, telling me she’s starving already because she had to fast for labs.
I offer to grab us some food from the café, and as I step out into the cold, I nearly bump into someone.
“Nash? What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take up reading.” He smiles.
“Why does that sound like a lie?”
Chuckling, he asks, “Are you off for the day?”
“No, just going to grab lunch for me and my boss.”
“Let me walk with you.”
Warmth spreads through my chest before I can stop it. It's stupid how relieved I am to see him, especially when I didn’t even know I’d been hoping I would.
A wave of guilt hits me then. I saw him and didn’t think to ask about Ryan’s case. What the hell does that mean?