8. Myles
MYLES
One of the only good things I’ve got going on right now is that it’s exam time, so instead of going to class all day, I’m able to hide in my room under the guise of studying.
The problem with hiding in my room is that I’m going stir-crazy, especially since I haven’t gone for a run since I was jumped. I like being alone, and I’m used to being isolated, but there’s a huge difference between not wanting to leave my room and being too afraid to.
I’m also no closer to figuring out what the Kings are planning or if I have to worry about them trying to send me another “message.”
The problem with trying to figure all this out on my own is that I don’t know what questions to ask.
I’m a computer guy. I’m good with code and numbers, and I’m really good at recognizing patterns and figuring out puzzles.
But that doesn’t help me when I’m sifting through campus security reports or poking around in the Rebels’ or Kings’ systems and hoping something jumps out at me.
And it really doesn’t help when I’m trying to use non-hacker methods to get answers, like deep diving into articles and looking up things in the public record.
There’s just so much information, and so many places to look for it, that I’m probably missing a ton of useful stuff because I don’t know how to find it.
Leaning back in my chair, I scrub my hand over my face and let out a weary sigh. I need help, but who the hell am I going to go to? Who can I go to?
I know Cipher and Echo would help me in a heartbeat, no questions asked, but I can’t put them at risk by dragging them into this.
I live on a closed campus surrounded by top-of-the-line security and armed LEOs.
Cipher lives in a house with three other guys, and Echo just moved into her own apartment.
They don’t have any security or protection, and I doubt the people who had no trouble trying to off a college kid and seem hell-bent on taking me out for helping them do it would have issues hurting or using my friends if they thought it was worth their while.
There’s also no way in hell I can ever let my parents find out about any of this without them losing their shit and locking me in the house until I’m thirty.
I can’t talk to anyone at school since I don’t have any friends here, and the school admin or LEOs aren’t options. They know who pays our tuition checks and who keeps them safe from outside eyes. They’re loyal to our parents and the alumni, not us.
With a few clicks of my mouse, I put my computer to sleep. I’ve been going in circles for hours. I need to take a break and step away from everything for a while, then come back when my head is clearer.
My entire body is stiff when I stand, and I roll my shoulders and stretch out my back as I do a few laps of my room. My eyes land on my window, and that now familiar feeling of being watched intensifies.
On a whim, I grab a notebook and pen off my desk and head over to the window. I’m probably going to feel like a giant idiot in about sixty seconds, but who the fuck cares. If I’m wrong and there’s no one out there, at least no one will be around to witness my descent into insanity.
Chuckling at how melodramatic I’m being, I sweep my gaze over the clusters of trees outside my window. Everything looks exactly the same as it always does, but the feeling that someone is out there only gets stronger the longer I stand there.
Shaking my head at how insane I am, I scribble something on a blank page in my notebook using big block letters.
Are you out there?
When I’m done writing, I hold the page up to the window and press it against the glass.
I don’t know what I’m expecting to happen as I scan the trees, but after almost a full minute of searching, I pull the sign off the window with another shake of my head.
Yup, I’m officially crazy.
I’m just turning away from the window when a flash, like sunlight glinting off a mirror, catches my eye.
“What the fuck?” I mutter and squint into the trees. It looked like it came from between the lush branches of the tree directly in front of my window.
Is someone in the tree? That perch has to be twenty-five, maybe even thirty feet off the ground. Who the fuck is this guy that he can fight like a supervillain and climb trees like a spider monkey?
Tentatively, I hold the sign up again. A few beats pass, then another flash appears in the same spot as before.
“Holy shit.” I yank the sign off the window and flip to the next page so I can write out another message.
1 for yes and 2 for no?
A single flash cuts through the branches.
Not wanting to waste time in case he changes his mind, I pull the sign down and write a question on a fresh page.
Do you want to hurt me?
Two flashes.
Relief fills me, and I scribble another message.
Do you know who does?
Another flash.
Do you know why?
A few beats pass, then there’s a single flash, a pause, then two more.
Was he saying both yes and no? I can’t exactly ask him to clarify, but not knowing what he meant is a little unnerving.
Chewing on my lip, I write out another question.
Are you the one I saw in the woods the other day?
A flash.
Did you help me when those guys jumped me?
Another flash.
I want to ask why, but that isn’t exactly a yes or no question. It takes a few seconds to come up with a new question, and I’m half expecting him to not answer as I finally press the page against the glass.
Do you like watching me?
I hold my breath as almost ten seconds pass with no answer. Then a single flash breaks through the branches.
The prickles of exhilaration that flicker under my skin are as confusing as the way my heart speeds up until it’s galloping in my chest.
That shouldn’t excite me. Having my stalker not only confirm that he’s real and watching me but also that he enjoys doing it should freak me the fuck out. I should be terrified, but I’m not.
I can’t explain it, and I’m not sure I want to even begin to unpack any of what’s going on in my head but knowing that he likes watching me is thrilling.
I’m so used to people looking right through me unless they want something that I usually feel invisible, like I could disappear and no one here would notice.
“You need so, so much therapy,” I say to myself as I write out another question.
Do you like watching me when I go for my runs?
Another flash.
“You’re insane,” I mutter as I write out another question. “Certifiably insane.”
Do you ever want to do more than just watch me?
I hold my breath, then blow it out when I see a single flash in the leaves.
“Why not?” I say to the empty room and scribble out another question. “Carpe diem and all that jazz, right?”
Would you want to do more to me if I went for a run now?
My pulse quickens when I see the single flash, and my cheeks heat as adrenaline pours into my veins.
“Why the fuck not,” I say to myself, my pen scratching across the page as I write out another message. I’m already talking to my stalker through window messages and flashing lights; I might as well have some fun since things can’t get any crazier.
And if it turns out I’m barking up the wrong tree, almost literally in this case, then it’s not like anyone will ever find out.
Do you like games?
The flash appears almost immediately this time. I don’t hide my grin as I pull the notebook down and flip to a new page. I’m crazy, I know I am. But I’m also tired of being scared.
And I’m not just afraid of the Kings or being stalked or any of the other shit that’s dogpiling on me right now. I’m tired of being afraid of myself. Of my thoughts and wants and the things I daydream about. The things I fantasize about.
I already know I’m fucked up, might as well lean into it and just let my freak flag fly instead of pretending it’s not there.
Do you want to play one now?
Another fast flash.
Shaking my head at how utterly insane this whole situation is, I put my notebook and pen down on my dresser, pull open one of the drawers, and grab some running gear.
There’s a good chance I won’t live to see my nineteenth birthday if I don’t figure out what the hell is going on with the Kings and the threats on my life, so why not live a little now and have some fun?
Snickering at how ridiculous my life has gotten, I hold up a shirt and running pants. I can’t see anyone in the tree across from my window, but I keep my eyes on the spot where I saw the flashes as I change into my gear.
I try not to think about anything so I don’t talk myself out of this, but I can’t help wondering if he enjoys watching me undress and if he likes what he sees.
When I’m ready, I grab my notebook and write one final message on it, then press it against the glass.
Hide and seek?
The single flash sends a rush of adrenaline through me, and I toss my notebook on my desk as I hurry out the door.
I don’t see anyone as I lock up my room, then race down the back stairs like my shoes are on fire.
I have no idea what’s gotten into me or why I’m suddenly acting so recklessly, but I feel nothing but anticipation and excitement as the back door to Boone House bangs shut behind me, and I step out into the cool evening air.
The area around me is clear, but that familiar sensation of having eyes on me is back, and instead of turning around and going right back up to my room like a sane person, I jog toward the trees.
It’s nearly dusk now, and the woods are eerily quiet. I’m almost at the path when a figure melts out of the shadows and grabs me around the waist.
I let out a pathetic squeal as he yanks me against his body, and my breath catches as he holds me tight, one arm around my middle and one hand loosely wrapped around my throat.
My entire body glitches out for a second as fear and excitement mix together, creating an incredible buzz that feels like being high, and I’m overwhelmed by not just his presence, but the weight of what I’ve just invited to happen.