ALEX #9
"I swear, Bay never told me anything. He would’ve told me if something like that happened," I whisper with dread.
"Do you really think he would’ve told you?" Dereck murmurs doubtfully.
"Well, I mean—"
"And why would he? To scare you? To burden you with something like that? Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him if he kept it a secret.
It’s huge. Three people died. If you’d known, and anything was ever discovered, you would’ve been the first suspect alongside him.
I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to protect you. "
I stare at him as waves of shock sweep through me. Did much more happen than I ever imagined? Did Bay spend all these years living with all these secrets?
"Tell me, do you know what happened to Matt? The one who beat Bay up with Kit? He vanished completely before they died on the cliff. I never heard anything about him again."
Dereck looks pleased, probably feeling like someone with insider gossip. He leans closer and speaks in a low, conspiratorial tone.
"The Hansons don’t know either. He disappeared like he fell off the face of the earth.
No one ever solved the mystery of his death, and even though the police tried.
Same as with the cliff case, the Hansons kept telling them that one of the suspects could’ve been Bay Nolan, but they ran into a solid wall.
Eugene later claimed it almost seemed like someone was redirecting attention away from Bay.
They appealed, but nothing came of it. The Hansons are absolutely convinced someone in the police shut that lead down, that the Nolans had a friend in law enforcement who made sure Bay was never called in for questioning. "
And Dereck gives me a pointed look.
"What? Are you suggesting something?! You think it was my dad?"
"Well, you know, he was a prosecutor…"
"I don’t know anything about that, goddammit!" The words spill out of me. "I had no idea things ever escalated like this," I whisper in terror.
My first impulse is to email Bay and ask him everything, but on the other hand, what if he really did it?
Sending an email would leave a digital trail, and above all I owe Bay loyalty, especially since those three bastards got what they deserved. Absolutely!
"But why would Rob and Vin show up here? What do I have to do with any of this? I don’t even date Bay anymore. Do they think for real that my dad blocked the investigation? Do they want revenge?"
Dereck shrugs. "Maybe. But I honestly don’t know. Perhaps they just wanted to scare you a little."
"Scare me? They’d drive an hour from home just to scare me and stare at me for a moment? Seriously?" My voice climbs into panic.
Dereck doesn’t respond because he knows it doesn’t sound good. I barely got rid of the Tanners, who I haven’t seen in a year, and now I have to worry about more people, ghosts from my past coming back?
I hate my fucking life!
But then Dereck steps closer and suddenly puts an arm around me in a comforting gesture, as if he wants to reassure me, but I tense immediately. He pulls back, sensing my resistance, clears his throat, and while staring out the window says,
"You know, there’s one more thing. Vin spent two years in prison after you guys got him and Rob kicked out of our high school."
"What? I thought they just transferred to another high school!"
"Nope. None of them ever returned to school! Their parents were furious. They worked odd jobs from what I heard, and you know what their family is like, conflict with the law comes easy to them. Vin messed up badly and went to prison for beating someone so violently it caused permanent injury. He’s a real thug.
Getting expelled basically launched him onto a criminal path. "
That news only crushes me further. Everyone knows prison doesn’t make anyone softer.
It hardens people into brutal bastards, especially when they’re surrounded by others who solve problems through force rather than negotiation or forgiveness, and that can mess with anyone’s head.
In their eyes, a tough guy doesn’t hesitate.
He hits back. That’s what they teach you in there.
I think hard about what to do next. Dereck watches me closely. His eyes are slightly narrowed, his heartbeat a little faster.
Of course the most logical step would be to confront Bay and ask what really happened on that cliff. But on the other hand, what would that change? If the Hansons are planning something, an indirect approach, striking from behind fits their style. They always go for the weak spots.
Right now I’m the easy target.
Bay is a recognizable face, and most people in our state would immediately identify him.
He’s performed at tons of concerts and events, and his YouTube channel is steadily growing, gaining more and more followers.
It would be much harder for them to get close to him.
Any investigation would catch up to them for sure.
But I’m like a little rabbit running from a pack of wolves. My dad, the prosecutor, is gone.
A bullseye is me.
I don’t say anything, because in order to explain to Dereck why I’m so afraid of the Hansons’ revenge, I’d have to tell him what really happened, that they kidnapped me, that Bay saved me, I’d have to disclose everything, and I can’t do that.
I don’t like asking Dereck for help, especially with that strange growing interest he has in me. But this time, I do it.
"Listen, I wanted to ask if you could walk with me tomorrow. I finish my lectures really late, they end at 8:30 pm, and Professor Martin heads in a different direction."
Dereck bites his lip. "You know, if they want to attack you, I won’t be able to protect you. I’m not an alpha, I can’t take them on," he admits with a twisted grimace.
He’s right, but I ask him anyway.
"Please, even so, at least you could run and call security…"
Dereck steps toward me again, lifts his hand, and lightly brushes my arm.
"I wish I could help, protect you. You’re so small."
I stare at him. He must notice how tense I get, because he backs off again. Gosh, it becomes more and more uncomfortable.
Dereck bites his lip and finally nods. "I’ll do what I can, but you know, if I were you, I’d contact campus security. This situation really doesn’t look good."
Of course I can’t count on my mysterious protector watching me around the clock and showing up exactly when I need him. Besides, it’s been almost twelve months since I last saw him, maybe he has changed jobs. Being a vigilante is a dangerous hobby after all.
Dereck is right. The Hansons aren’t like the Tanners, they’re real criminals, they won’t get scared off by a broken arm.
"I’ll do it," I mutter, planning to leave the kitchen.
Dereck bites his lip and says, "Want a beer? I’ve got a six-pack."
Oh, that surprises me. I never drink and he knows that, so what’s he after?
I shake my head and go back to my room, feeling waves of stress roll through my whole body.
I curl up on the bed in my ugly little nest. I stare at my phone, at Bay’s number.
There have been thousands of times I wanted to call him, hear his voice…
That green button is all that separates us, so many miles I could cross in a second, hear him, forget the fear, feel safe again…
I just stare at it, lost in the fantasy of finally pressing it.
Then I slowly reach into my nightstand and take out Bay’s diary. Of course. I do it almost every day. I glued it together perfectly, every piece back in its place. I run my fingers across the smooth pink surface and touch the little packet with the dried flower I gave him, a sigh escaping me.
Oh, how I love reading it. I lose myself in his words about loving me, about hope, about happiness.
Now I read the last poem he wrote, the one he never showed me.
Its last line,
"Nothing can come between
Us,"
hits me right in the eyes, painfully sharp, like a willow switch snapping across my skin.
Everything stands between us now, I want to scream. A fucking abyss!
I close my eyes, drifting into visions of us recording his songs together, retakes, rehearsals, laughter, the bloopers we used to watch while we giggled like idiots…
Knock, knock.
"Dereck?" I mumble, startled. I glance at my phone.
It’s late. What does he want?
He walks in, and I know instantly he’s drunk.
He reeks of beer and his eyes are hazy.
"You drank?"
He comes up to the bed and drops onto it beside me without the slightest shame.
"I drank. For courage."
I curse silently. This isn’t going to end well… I can feel it.
He closes his eyes halfway and rolls onto his back.
"But… do you have to lie in my bed? You’ll mess it up!"
He bursts out laughing, that typical drunk laugh.
"It’s not that stage yet. Right now I just have the spins and I’m chilling! And that’s what I need!"
"For fuck’s sake, get out of here, Dereck, I don’t need your cringe bullshit in my room," I try to snap, but he ignores me.
"I’ve been holding this in forever. I’m finally gonna say it, I have to!"
I clench my jaw. Damn it, it’s gonna get awkward if he starts something romantic…
"It’s been a few years since you two broke up, right? You and Bay. And you’re still alone. Don’t you miss… you know. Sex."
I try to slide off the bed, I’m not planning on sharing it with him, but before I manage to put my feet on the floor, he suddenly grabs my hand. A nasty shiver shoots through me, not as sharp as when Oswald grabbed me, but still unpleasant, irritating.
I force myself to stop pulling away.
"What do you want, Dereck? You’re drunk and you’re about to create some weird shit between us if you keep going, just stop."
"You know," he says suddenly, his thumb brushing over my hand.
"Sometimes I imagined you two having sex. He’s so big and you’re so small. Did that even fit?"
Unbelievable, did he just ask me that?
"For fuck’s sake, you’re sick! You got wasted and now you’re acting like a creep!"