Chapter Fifteen
“Anaphylactic shock - a severe, sometimes fatal, reaction to a substance to which a person has an extreme sensitivity, often involving respiratory difficulty and circulation failure.”
Dex
I looked up “ways to die” on the internet.
I didn’t find any ways to possibly kill a Target, but I did learn I wasn’t the stupidest guy on the planet.
Apparently there was a waiting list for that and it was very, very long.
According to one site, one of the manliest ways to die was by lighting yourself on fire.
It seemed to me the manliest way to die would be to not die at all.
Self-preservation is a lot harder than most people realize.
Probably because more people live closer to the way I do now than the way I did before I died.
I clicked through the videos and articles, searching for something that might actually give me some ideas.
I never thought in a million years as I was living on the violent streets of the city that I would need ideas on how to kill someone.
And I guess I really didn’t need ideas… It was just that the ideas I had weren’t something I cared to live again.
I was looking through an article about asphyxiation when the doorbell rang. I glanced up past the computer screen and into the kitchen where Hobbs was cooking up some dinner.
“I will see who that is, sir,” he said, grabbing his cane and going to the front door.
I returned my attention to the computer screen. “Tell them to go away.” I didn’t have any friends so I knew it wasn’t anyone I wanted to see.
A few moments later Hobbs came back into the room, clearing his throat. “You have a visitor.”
“I’m busy, Hobbs,” I said, annoyed.
“Sir,” he said again, with more emphasis, and I looked up.
I was so shocked I almost fell out of my chair.
Piper was standing a few feet behind him and she was looking at me. “Piper,” I said, getting up from the chair. “I-I… How did you know where I lived?”
Her eyes narrowed and she glanced back toward the front door. “How did you know my name?”
“It was on your nametag… at the diner.”
“Oh. Right,” she said, looking a little less alarmed.
Hobbs mumbled something about leaving us alone and then left the room.
“How did you know where I lived?” It was my turn to act suspicious. When, really, I was thrilled she was here.
She winced. “I had my friend run your license plate number.”
I digested that. So the car was registered to me and not to Mr. Burns. He must be pretty confident I would finish the job.
I grinned, ignoring the queasiness once again building in my stomach. “You must have really wanted to see me again,” I said, enjoying the way her face flushed.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you about something.”
I adjusted the glasses on my nose as a wave of dizziness passed over me. My eyes darted around the room, looking for something, but I didn’t know what.
“Are you okay?” she asked and came closer, her eyes wandering toward my computer screen.
I reached out and slammed the lid of the laptop closed, not wanting her to see what I’d been looking at, and then turned back to her. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I lied.
Why was I feeling sick again all of a sudden?
“You don’t look too good. Have you been sick?”
“Me? No. I’m just hungry. Hobbs is cooking dinner. Would you like to stay and join me?” I glanced into the empty kitchen where Hobbs had been. “Hobbs!” I yelled.
“I really just came to ask you something.”
“You can ask me while we eat,” I said as Hobbs came into the room.
“You bellowed, sir?”
“Piper is going to be joining me for dinner,” I told him.
“Certainly. It will be ready shortly.” He went back into the kitchen to finish frying some chicken. My eyes zeroed in on the bottle of peanut oil by the big pot on the stove. I could hardly believe my good luck. It was almost too easy.
Here I was trying to come up with ways to catch my prey when my prey came right to me. And to top it off, my butler just happened to be cooking with something that she was allergic to. With any luck, this job would be completed by tonight.
“Come, sit down,” I told Piper and headed toward the living room. “We can talk while Hobbs finishes dinner.”
Piper followed as I plopped down on the couch. She stood beside it and lifted her eyebrow. “You have a butler?”
I shrugged. “A guy’s gotta eat.”
“You seem kind of young to be able to afford that car and a butler.”
I liked the way she crossed her arms over her chest, like she’d somehow caught me in a lie.
“Trust fund,” I said with a shrug and picked up the remote control to the flat screen.
“Figures,” she muttered.
I suppressed a grin. “Have a seat.” I motioned to the couch with the remote.
She sat down on the end and I channel surfed. Really, I wasn’t paying any attention at all to the TV. I was too busy wondering about the way my hand shook and trying not to stare at her when everything in me was demanding I look at only her.
I finally gave in and shifted my gaze. Her dark hair was long and framed her face; her brown eyes seemed to take in everything around the room. When they settled on me, the twisting of my stomach seemed to quiet.
“So what do you want to ask me?” I said.
She nodded. “I just got this feeling the other night that you maybe knew more about the accident I was telling you about.”
I tried not to outwardly react. I knew I’d said too much. This girl was far too perceptive. “Why would you think that?”
“Well,” she replied. “Right after I told you about what happened to me, you seemed to get upset.” She paused before she went on. “I thought maybe you might have known the guy who died and me bringing it up bothered you.”
“I told you I hadn’t heard about the accident.” In my mind I replayed everything from that night. She’d caught me off guard by bringing it all up, and then I started to feel sick… She must have thought that was because I knew more than I let on.
“I know you said that, but…” Her voice trailed away.
“You thought I lied.” I finished for her, slightly annoyed.
I didn’t really like being accused of lying. Even if I was.
“No,” she began, but Hobbs interrupted.
“Dinner is served,” he said. “If you should require anything else, please call.”
“Thank you, Hobbs,” I said, grateful he cut in when he did. He nodded and then went upstairs.
“I’m starving,” I said, getting up from the couch. “I hope you like chicken.”
“Yes, I do.” Piper agreed, following me into the kitchen where Hobbs had set out several dishes full of food on the island. I grabbed a plate and piled it high with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
Piper followed, her plate not looking nearly as full as mine. I casually glanced behind me where Hobbs had been frying the chicken to see if the oil was still out, but thankfully it wasn’t.
I went and sat down and tore into a piece of chicken. I made a sound of appreciation. “This is really good,” I said around a mouthful.
“What were you doing at the diner that night if you have such a wonderful cook here at home?”
I paused my chewing. She never gave up. “I was out shopping so I stopped by for a bite. It was late and I wasn’t going to come home and make him cook me something.”
“That was very thoughtful of you,” she said, forking up a bite of potatoes. I tried not to stare pointedly at the chicken on her plate.
“I’m a thoughtful kind of guy,” I said and took another huge bite.
“I wondered if maybe you came by the diner because you knew the man who died right outside,” she said, watching me.
I choked on the food as I swallowed and grabbed up a glass of water that was sitting nearby and took a drink. After several moments, I looked at her. “I don’t—didn’t—know the guy who died.”
We both lapsed into silence and I focused completely on eating. Then, because I really wanted to know, I said, “Why do you care so much about this guy anyway? He’s dead.”
When she didn’t answer, I looked up. At the same moment, her fork clattered onto her plate and she looked at me. Her breaths were coming in short gasps.
“Peanuts,” she wheezed. “I’m allergic to peanuts.”
As I stared at her, red welts began to appear on her cheeks and neck. She pushed her chair away from the island and tried to stand, but she stumbled and caught herself on the counter. I reached out to steady her.
“Piper? What’s going on? Are you okay?” I said, trying to sound concerned, realizing it wasn’t hard to do.
She tried to say something, but I couldn’t understand her words. I clutched her arm and turned her to face me and saw that her lips and tongue were swelling rapidly. She made a motion with her arm, toward the front door.
“Ppputthhhh,” she said.
“What?”
She said it again. I grabbed my phone off the counter. “I’m calling 9-1-1.” I knew by the time they got here she’d be dead.
“Nnnoo.” She pointed again toward the front hallway. “Pppuuthhh.”
“You want your purse?” I said, finally understanding.
She nodded rapidly. I released her and ran into the entryway, grabbing her bag. Then I stopped. I didn’t want her to realize I’d known all along about her allergy to peanuts, but I also didn’t want to move so fast I ended up saving her life.
I heard a light thump and forgot my thoughts, rushing back into the room. She’d fallen or sat down on the floor and was leaning against the base of the island. Her face was completely red and her head was lolling to the side. I could hear her struggling for air.
I could see her suffer.
I saw the unfocused panic in her eyes.
I didn’t like this.
I dropped to my knees beside her. “Piper!” I yelled when her head rolled away from me. “Piper!”
I dumped the entire contents of her bag out onto the floor and stuff went flying.
I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for and figured it was some kind of medicine.
I shifted through all the stuff and none of it looked like it would be what she wanted.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her swollen face.
“Tell me what you need.” My heart pounded and everything inside me felt frantic. “Tell me!” I demanded.
She couldn’t talk. She was too far gone.
In mere seconds she was probably going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
I shook my head. No.
Something inside me whispered, Yes.
I didn’t want her to die.
Yes. Yes you do.
“Piper…,” I said again. “Piper, I’m sorry.”
And then Hobbs was there, pushing me out of the way with strength such a small man shouldn’t possess, and he was stabbing her in the outer thigh with something.
“What the hell are you doing, Hobbs!?!” I demanded.
“I’m helping her,” he replied without looking back at me.
He dropped the tube in his other hand and I grabbed it up to look at it. Epinephrine. “Is this medicine? Is she going to be okay?”
“Call an ambulance,” Hobbs said, finally turning around. His face was sad.
“Hobbs! Is she going to die?” How could that idea fill me with so much dread, yet so much hope?
“No, she’s going to be okay, but she needs a doctor.”
I let out a breath and then started looking for my phone. In all the confusion, I couldn’t remember what happened to it. I found it on the floor in the entryway underneath her coat. I went back to her side, dropping to my knees next to her head.
“I’m calling for help,”
“No,” she rasped. “No ambulance.”
“Piper?” I looked down, surprised she was talking.
“Good stuff,” she said and glanced at the epinephrine tube still in my hand.
“You need a doctor.”
She nodded. “You take me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” I felt shaky, like the time I’d almost gotten caught robbing the corner convenience store in my old neighborhood and I jumped out the bathroom window and ran for three blocks before stopping.
She grabbed my arm. “Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me. It was Hobbs. He knew what to do.”
She looked past me at Hobbs and I moved away to begin gathering all the stuff that scattered when I dumped out her bag.
Hobbs moved beside her and leaned down. “Please accept my sincere apologies. I feel awful knowing something I cooked caused such a reaction.”
“I should’ve asked,” Piper began, her voice shaky. “I usually do, I just… I didn’t think of it today.”
I paused and glanced over at her. She was watching me and I quickly looked away.
She’d been too busy trying to figure out what my connection was to the man who died. Her distraction had almost been my success.
I should’ve been disappointed that my plan didn’t work.
I wasn’t.