11. Leni
11
LENI
“Is it okay if I go? Do you mind being home alone?”
Shit. I never did respond when Colt told me a couple of guys from his psychology class wanted to get together over pizza and beer to work on a project tonight. It was like my mind went blank as soon as he mentioned he would be out. It went straight to where it’s been for the past few days: that alley, with that man I was sure was Nix.
I’m not so sure anymore, but that’s only because I’ve had plenty of time to question myself and remember Nix is dead and gone. It’s probably not that unusual for somebody to have a crazy thought like I did when they were fresh off being violated the way I was. I needed something to comfort me, some concept to make me feel better, and the idea it was Nix out there was the closest thing to comfort I could think of. The idea that he’s still alive, that Colt isn’t wrong or deluded. And maybe he could finally be happy—really happy—because he’d feel whole again, like there isn’t a part of him missing anymore.
Or I could just be crazy. That’s totally possible. Colt is right; I do need to see a therapist. Because between the messages that keep coming through my phone and the DMs I’m getting across social media from random anonymous accounts, I don’t know if I can take much more.
You’re going to die, bitch.
Count your days. The clock is ticking.
They’re going to bury you next to your mother.
The worst part is, I can block the numbers and accounts all I want, but that doesn’t stop them. They just create new accounts, new numbers to message me from. It’s enough to make me want to disappear. To just fade out completely. There are times when it feels like that’s the only solution.
And I guess that’s why the second Colt mentions leaving me alone tonight, my thoughts go straight back to the alley and what happened there. It’s not like I want to revisit and commemorate the experience or anything. I’m just wondering if I could find him there. Maybe I can draw him out. He did make a big deal about warning me against going out by myself, right? If he’s following me, or if he lives down there and sees me, there’s a chance he’ll make contact again.
I need him to. Either he’s Nix, or he isn’t. I need to know for sure.
“Go ahead,” I chirp as cheerfully as I can, looking up from the laptop where I’ve been trying like hell to focus on the paper I’m writing. My thoughts are so scattered, I have to fight for each sentence. That’s another reason I need to go out tonight. I have to clear my head, get some answers. “I think I’ll manage on my own.”
He’s not convinced, walking slowly toward me, running a hand over my hair. His touch is soothing, a promise of calm and safety. What I wouldn’t give to close my eyes and let go of everything on my mind.
“You sure? Maybe you should call Piper, see if she wants to do something.”
I love him for that. Smiling up into his blue eyes, I shake my head, then brush my lips against his palm once he’s finished caressing my cheek. “I really do have to work on this. She would only distract me. You know how it is; she never has to work that hard for a good grade.”
“Hey, if you can get her to write it for you,” he suggests with a wink. It’s not a bad idea, actually. Though I would never do anything like that. At least he’s not studying me so closely as he grabs his keys and wallet. “I won’t be too late, but if anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Have fun,” I offer as he opens the door.
“Not too much fun,” he reminds me, grimacing. “I would like to get a decent grade on this. I can’t believe I actually give a shit.”
I could say the same thing. He never exactly cared about grades before—everything has always come so easily to him. I’m not delusional. I won’t act like I’m the reason he’s changed, but it does seem like a coincidence that my presence in his life came around the same time as him deciding it was time to care about things.
Am I seriously considering this? Staring at my screen, I don’t see the words in front of me. All I see are those glittering blue eyes. Eyes that are so familiar. Just like Colt’s.
Once enough time has passed that I doubt Colt will come back because he forgot something. I get up from the table and close the laptop, bracing myself for whatever is waiting for me. This time, I’ll know to watch my back. It’s not quite as late as it was last time, which I hope means there won’t be as much of a chance of danger rearing up and biting me in the ass.
Am I crazy for doing this? Catching my reflection in the mirror next to the front door, I can’t ignore the look of fear in my eyes. I can’t deny I’m more than a little freaked out over the idea of walking into possible danger.
But that’s not going to stop me. I’m never giving in to fear again.
It’s chilly again tonight, and I zip my hoodie up to my throat before shoving my hands into the pockets and starting off. My heart is pounding like a bass drum, and every step I take makes me wonder whether I should turn around and go the other way. He’s probably not even going to be around—Nix or whoever he is. I’m being stupid and taking risks I shouldn’t take.
But I need to know. If it takes another ten walks through a sort of dangerous part of town, that’s what I’ll do if it means knowing for sure whether my attacker was Nix or some random stranger. My keys are threaded between my fingers in a claw, ready to slice or gouge anybody who pulls anything with me. I’m not going to leave myself as vulnerable this time. I tighten my grip, more determined than ever.
It’s bad enough I have people sending me death threats. I don’t need to also worry whether I’m losing my mind, imagining things that aren’t true.
And maybe I need to know for Colt’s sake too, since I know how much it means to him, thinking his brother is alive. If he is, I’m going to find out, for both of our sakes.
And then I still might use these keys on Nix, because damn him. For running off, for hiding, for doing what he did to me in the alley.
Crossing the street, my eyes sweep to the right and left. They’ve been doing a lot of that lately, because it isn’t just on walks like the one I’m taking right now where I’ve been looking for Nix. I’ve been glancing over my shoulder for three days, sure I’ll see him lurking somewhere, watching me. Maybe I want to find him. I don’t know. I only know I can’t live in this state of limbo much longer. I have to know.
And then somehow, I’ll have to break the news to Colt—if any of this is true, of course.
This is the route I took, isn’t it? It has to be. I just walked in a straight line the other night, not really paying attention to where I was going, with no destination in mind. All that mattered was getting away.
Little did I know the real danger was ahead of me.
There’s less and less traffic the further away from home I go until I start to recognize the businesses I saw before. I wonder how they expect to make any money when they’re closed after people get out of work for the day. Slowing my pace, I pay closer attention than ever to my surroundings, jumping a little when a sharp laugh bursts out of one of the upper-floor windows. There must be apartments up there. I need to chill out—I am way too jumpy. It’s just that the closer I get to the alley where it all happened, the fresher the memories are.
Soon I pass a car where two vaguely familiar men lean against the front. “Hey, baby! What, you decided to come back and make friends?”
Oh, great. These guys. I wish I had pulled up my hood—maybe then they wouldn’t recognize me if they didn’t see my hair—but it’s too late for that now. All I can do is pretend not to hear them and keep walking with my head down. Is he out here somewhere? He’s taking his sweet damn time if he is.
“You’re a rude little bitch, you know that?” Oh, no. The voice is closer this time. They’re following me.
“For real. Whatever happened to girls being able to take a fucking compliment?” They laugh nastily as they fall in step behind me, muttering to each other about my body, whistling.
Aren’t there cops in this town? Why the hell can’t one drive by right now? Or just a good Samaritan, for God’s sake? But no, it’s just me and these two guys. Two guys who decide to take me by my arms and turn me in place.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get off me!” I can’t use my keys on them with them holding my arms like this. I do everything I can—kicking my feet, making myself as heavy as I can, going dead weight in hopes they’ll stop—but they don’t. All they do is laugh, pulling me toward their car.
“We’re just gonna have some fun,” the shorter of the two tells me, snickering. “Relax, you’ll enjoy yourself.”
“Let’s see if that red hair is natural,” the other guy suggests, and sheer animal panic floods my system, making me fight harder than ever.
“Help me!” I scream, pulling and struggling, getting closer to the car with every step.
“Get the fuck off her!”
I know that voice. The sound of it is an arrow piercing my terror. Looking up, I find him standing in front of us, his hood pulled up over his ski mask to hide his face.
But he’s not hiding the switchblade in his hand, the streetlights making the metal gleam. “Get off of her,” he commands menacingly. “Or I will make you eat the ground before I slice both your dicks off. Got it?”
Cowards. Just like that, they let me go and hurry off, looking over their shoulders as they scurry to the car like a couple of scared rabbits. I would laugh if I wasn’t so busy trying to stay upright, swaying on my feet, panting for every breath.
“Are you okay?” That voice again. He’s not whispering this time. Maybe he forgot to—or maybe I called him by his real name, and he knows he doesn’t have to hide anymore.
At first, I can only nod until I catch my breath. “I’m all right. Thank you.”
It’s like thanking him flips a switch. Taking a step toward me, he asks, “What did I tell you?”
“I know what you told me.” I will not cower. I will not apologize. “But I needed to see you again. I needed to be sure it was you. I want to see your face.” I reach for his ski mask, but he takes a step away from me before I can reach him.
“Is that what this is about?” Putting away the switchblade, he shakes his head, his face still hidden. “I’m disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Why would you care that I’m out here?” I counter. Every word makes me feel a little stronger because I know I’m right—it’s the only thing that makes sense. “Show me your face. Or else I’m never going to stop looking, and you’re just going to have to follow me around and threaten people with a switchblade every day.”
“Don’t be a fucking child.” To my surprise, he brushes past me and starts walking fast, like he can get away.
“Coward!” I have to almost jog to keep up with him, my eyes glued to his broad back. “You’re going to run away again? Are you only brave when you’re carrying the switchblade?”
“Enough.” He’s as quick as a cat, whirling around and grabbing hold of me, pushing me against the closest wall. Leaning in, his breath hot in my face, he asks, “Do you wanna play games? You think you’re brave enough? You’re so tough?”
“Who’s talking about being brave when you won’t even take off that mask?” I whisper. Am I ready to die from fear? Maybe. But I’m getting through to him. I feel it.
“Is that what you want? Is that really what you want, little girl?” He looms over me, blocking out everything around us, but I’m not afraid. I know who he is. I might’ve been afraid of him in the past, but not anymore. We’re past that now.
“Do you want to see? Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Holding my breath, I watch him lower the hood and rip off the ski mask. I’m somehow able to keep from gasping at what I see.
One side of his face is exactly the way I remember it.
The other?
“Oh,” I whisper with a sinking heart, staring in horror at the scar tissue covering the other half of his face. “What happened to you? Oh, my god…”
“And you wonder why I didn’t want you to see?” In a flash, he puts the hood in place again, snickering. “Aren’t you glad you know what happened?”
“But I don’t know what happened. What did this to you?”
“Give it a little thought. You’ll figure it out.” He scoffs before turning away.
I can’t believe it. He’s going to walk away. He’s actually going to leave me standing here. Before I can think about it, I reach out and grab his arm. “Don’t go! Come with me. You don’t have to hide!”
“I know what I’m doing. Let me go,” he warns, looking down at my hand.
“I won’t. Don’t you understand how it’s been driving Colt crazy, with everyone thinking you’re dead? Even me! Why would you stay away now?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes!” I almost sob. It’s real—he’s alive. Colt was right. Who’s in his grave? How did he get burned? There are so many questions. I can’t possibly let him go.
Leaning down, he whispers, “I’m staying away because if I don’t, what happened in that alley is going to happen again and again. It’s all I can think about, Leni. Hurting you again the way Dad did.”
A wave of nausea washes over me before he scoffs again. “Trust me. This is for the best. So if you know what’s good for you, pretend this never happened and go. The fuck. Home.”
Yanking his arm away, he adds, “And don’t even think about telling Colt. You tell him, I’ll disappear for good,” he threatens.
It doesn’t occur to me to ask him to stop or call after him again. I’m too shocked, horrified. He wants to hurt me like his dad did? Is he really that twisted?
There’s nothing I can do but watch him as he disappears into the darkness. When a cab rolls down the street, I throw my arm out, desperate to get home now. Maybe I’ll be able to piece it all together when I’m there, where it’s safe.
Although that’s not going to help once Colt gets home, and I have to pretend once again I’m not hiding any secrets.
I don’t think there’s ever been a secret as big as this. Or one he might hate me more for keeping.