Chapter Nineteen
Charlie
If you had asked me prior to the last five minutes whether or not I’d ever lock picked open someone’s front door, the answer would’ve been a resounding no.
I probably would have laughed at the idea of me doing something so criminal.
I’m not the breaking and entering type. I don’t even want to leave my apartment most of the time, so why would I want to break into someone else’s?
Well, Kip has turned me into some type of criminal crazy person, because here I am, swinging the freshly lock-picked front door open to his apartment.
Thank you for the tutorial, YouTube. After Tyson begrudgingly gave me the address, I drove straight here.
And as he claimed, Kip didn’t answer the door, but, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to see me. It’s because he’s not here.
If Kip really wasn’t feeling well after the accident at work this morning, why wouldn’t he be at home resting? And why wouldn’t he have texted me back? I think Tyson is a big fucking liar. He’s hiding something, the sneaky prick. I hate that guy. I hate almost every one, but I really hate Tyson.
When I call out Kip’s name into the seemingly empty apartment, all I hear in response is the sound of meowing coming from a bedroom down the darkened hallway.
I follow the sound of meowing, tracking it to the bedroom on the left side of the hall. As I crack open the door a tiny grey ball of fluff springs towards me before clawing its way up the leg of my jeans.
“Ouch!” I hiss as the kitten’s nails sink through the fabric into my skin. I pry the little fluff ball off my pants, holding it up in front of me with two hands like it’s Simba from ‘The Lion King’. “You must be Nacho.”
The kitten purrs, blinking slowly at me and flexing its tiny paws in front of its body.
“Where’s Kip, little guy? Has he been home today?” I don’t know why I’m talking to a kitten like it's going to respond.
Mrowwww.
Huh, it’s almost like Nacho did respond.
“Meow once for yes you’ve seen him, and stay silent if you haven’t.”
The cat blinks at me, not making a peep.
“Hmmm…if you’re a dog, meow once. If you’re a cat, meow twice.”
Mrow, mrowww.
“That could be coincidence. Okay, how about this one, meow once if Kip saved you from a tree, and meow twice if he adopted you from an animal shelter.”
Mrowwww.
Woah. That’s fucking weird. I study the kitten, scrutinizing it as if he holds the answers to the universe. “Hmmphh…juries still out on you, little guy.” I put Nacho down on Kip’s bed, scratching the top of his head a couple of times, before stepping away to look around.
After a fruitless search, I plunk down next to where Nacho is stretched out on the pink comforter adorning Kip’s bed.
Yes, he has a pink comforter. With tiny little pink hearts.
It is the exact opposite of what I’d expect to find on his bed.
I smile softly as I run my fingers over the fabric.
Kip keeps surprising me. I judged him as a jock airhead, but he’s actually very sweet and smart…
well, smart in his own way. Maybe not in books or anything like that but he has ahold of his emotional intelligence.
“Well, it’s safe to say that this has been a bust, Nacho. Where could your dad be?”
Mrowwww.
What I would give to speak cat right now.
It’s about an hour later, and I know that I should be leaving Kip’s apartment. Tyson will probably be home soon, and I don’t have the energy to deal with him again today. I’ve been lying on Kip’s bed, snuggling with Nacho. Nacho, who is curled up against my chest and purring.
“Alright, little friend, I gotta go before Tyson get’s home.”
The kitten hisses at Tyson’s name, his hackles raising.
“You and me both, buddy.” I give him one last scratch under his chin, before hauling myself up from the comfort of Kip’s bed.
I like the way it smells, spicy and sweet, like him.
I’m so fucked. Since when do I pine? I don’t like people.
But I like Kip, and I guess technically Kip isn’t a person anymore.
He’s now other, but I’ve only known him as such.
I make sure to fill up Nacho’s food and water before closing the bedroom door behind me and leaving the apartment. I don’t bother trying to lock the door. I mean, is it even possible to un-lock pick a door?
When I step outside into the dusky air, a chill washes over me. But not the kind you get when you’re cold. No, this is something else. Goosebumps erupt over my body, and I feel this odd flaring sensation in my chest. It feels like a tether, tugging on my torso, begging me to follow along.
I honestly try to ignore it, walking in the opposite direction than it’s pulling me.
I’m not going to follow some fucking weird feeling anywhere, thank you very much.
That sounds like a terrible idea. Like the beginning to a horror movie.
The further I walk away from it, the harder it tugs, until it’s almost physically impossible to continue forward.
“Seriously?” I look down at my chest, expecting to see a rope tied around my middle, but nothing out of the ordinary sticks out.
I push myself ahead, and this time the invisible tether tugs insistently, begging me to listen and follow.
“I don’t have time for this supernatural voodoo bullshit.” I snarl.
The tether tugs in response.
“Okay, you know what? Fine. Fine! But if you lead me somewhere fucked up I’m going to be really upset.”
I heave a sigh, resigned to following this stupid tether wherever it wants me to go. It’s clearly not going to allow me to ignore it.
As I walk in the other direction, towards where the tether wants me, a sense of peace and calm floods through me. It feels like there’s warmth spreading outwards from where the tether is connected to my core. Like this is what I’m meant to be doing at this exact moment.
It leads me down different streets, telling me when to turn. After about twenty minutes it pulls me to a stop, right in front of Blood Rose.
“Uhhhhh?” I look down at where I feel it connecting to me, searching for answers.
It urges me forward, wanting me to go into the club. I’ve already followed it this far, I guess I might as well finish whatever this is. When I reach the door, I jerk on the handles but they don’t budge. I even try pushing the doors inwards, with no luck.
“What am I supposed to do now, oh magical tether?” I say snarkily. “Looks like the club doesn’t open for another hour.”
The tether pulls against me harder, knocking me off balance until my face smacks the door.
“Owww, fuck. That’s not how doors work!” I grunt, rubbing my tender forehead. It’s definitely going to bruise after that.
Apparently, whatever magical bullshit this is doesn’t care that I can’t walk through solid objects, because it yanks at me persistently. I literally have to brace my hands against the door to stop my head from banging into it again with the force of the pull from the tether.
Suddenly, the door swings open and away from me without warning, and I end up landing on my face inside the entryway to Blood Rose.
“Jesusssss…” I cry out, my hands and knees aching from my harsh fall.
“Do you not know how to read?” A bored voice comes from above.
My eyes trace up the feet and legs standing in front of me. I crane my head, trying to look at their face.
“The sign clearly says we open at eight. And it’s currently seven. But even if you can’t read, you’d think the locked doors would be a clue that WE AREN’T OPEN.” The guy scowls down at me.
I thought I had the dark and broody thing on lock down, but this guy takes it to a whole new level. His long black hair sweeps along his shoulders, his grey eyes flashing down at me.
Oh! “You’re the bartender that helped Kip the other night.”
“No shit?! Really? I can’t believe it.” His tone is mocking. “The Kip? Wow. How did I get so lucky?!”
“And I thought I was an asshole.” I grumble, trying to push myself up off the ground. I hiss at the pain in my hands and legs, but manage to climb to my feet, rather ungracefully.
“Oh good, you’ve cleaned yourself up off my floor. Now, you can take yourself right back out the door. Good night.” The bartender begins to shut the doors, even though I’m still blocking the way. The right one bangs into my side, and the left one closes behind me.
“Ow, what the fuck, stop hitting me with the damn door!” I push against it, stopping it from ramming into my side again.
“You’re still here? What about ‘we’re closed’ and ‘get the fuck out’ did you not understand?”
“Listen, I have to be here okay? You’re a vampire right, so you know all about this supernatural shit? Well, there’s this tugging sensation in my chest, telling me I have to be here. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t stop.” A week ago, I would’ve thought what I just said sounded insane.
“Riggghttt…another weirdo who thinks vampires and magic are real. Now listen to me really good, I want you to understand what I’m about to tell you.” He begins speaking very slowly, over-enunciating every word. “Vampires. Aren’t. Real. You. Are. Cuckoo. Please. Get. Mental. Help.”
Damn, is this how I act when I’m a grumpy asshole to people I don’t like? Yikes. How is anyone friends with me? Never-mind, it’s not the time for an existential crisis.