CHAPTER FOUR
ALEXANDRA JONES
ISTACK THE BOOKS ON TOP OF ONE ANOTHER, SCANNING EACH
one whilst I look up to see Maxine, my co-worker, walking inside with a tote bag over her shoulder. I watch as she says ‘hi’ to a couple of customers before reaching the reception desk, where I currently am.
Maxine drops a shopping bag onto the counter and sighs, tying her small curly hair up. “Hello Maxine.” I chuckle, she looks very tired-probably her kids.
“I don’t know who told me to have three kids, I should have just stopped at none.”
She walks around the desk, sliding her bag down her shoulders and under the table. She removes her coat and rests it above her bag. “Glad to say it wasn’t me, hang on, have you seen Joey?” She shakes her head.
“Nope, my issue is that bloody light in the bathroom. But I brought the right tools today.” She slips out a toolbox from her bag, along with a lightbulb. “Also, I’m closing today.” She yells out as she walks to the bathroom, I grab the stack of books and head to the shelves near the sitting area where I see Joey closing yet another book.
He sets it to the side and jumps out of his seat to make his way to me, I continue pushing the books into the shelves-in correct order. I love organising the shelves, they give me a sense of calmness.
Joey, a short and slightly greying man, always managed to bring a smile to my face. As I stack books onto the shelves, he playfully leans against them. “Alexandra, how is my favourite worker?” He asks with a warm grin.
I chuckle softly, “I’m doing fine, Joey. But did you bring what I asked for?” I glance around to ensure no prying eyes were watching us.
He nods mischievously, knowing exactly what I meant. “Did you bring what I asked for, Alexandra?” He whispers back.
“On the third count. One, two, and three,” I respond, exchanging a discreet item with him. He received the book he requested, and I received my beloved pomegranate seeds. We do this every time I work, joey could read a book in less than a day which makes it harder for me to suggest him a new one.
Joey squints at me, scanning the book’s cover. “And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie? This looks terrible,” he whines playfully.
“You say that about every book I recommend, and yet you always come back for more,” I tease, enjoying our little secret exchange.
“Cheeky little...” he mumbles, scurrying off to settle into his favourite reading spot.
I couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh as I walk back to the reception desk, I take a seat behind the counter, my eyes on the security cameras discreetly placed throughout the store. Our harmless exchanges always made my day at the bookstore a little more exciting.
As I opened my sketchbook, I intend to draw something entirely different, but my hand seemed to have a mind of its own. Instead, I found myself sketching Ares. I drop my pencil and look up, noticing Joey engrossed in the book I had recommended.
I knew he’d enjoy it; he was a bit of a romantic at heart.
I thought about how my life could be so much different if my parents weren’t so overprotective and bound by their strict Catholic beliefs. I craved to wear whatever I wanted, to live life without limitations. But they had always controlled my choices, even down to the shoes I wore. At eleven, they wouldn’t let me wear a simple crop top, fearing it would attract trouble. At fifteen, they had to meet my friends parents before even allowing me to speak to them. And then at the bright age of eighteen- I got into an accident, falling down a flight of stairs, which changed my life. They became worse.
And by ‘they’, I meant my mother.
As the hours passed, I busied myself with organising books, ensuring each one found its proper place on the shelves. Time ticked away, and I knew I had to leave soon.
I pack up my belongings, slipping into my sage green jacket.
“Alright, Maxine, I’ll see you next week Wednesday?”
“See you, my love. Take care,” she replies.
I approach Joey, who is meticulously putting the book away in his special shelf area, designed just for him. “Do you have anyone to take you, Joey?” I ask, concerned for the elderly man’s well-being.
“My grandson is waiting outside. Let us give you a ride,” he kindly offered.
“No, it’s okay, Joey. I’ll take the bus.”
There was something liberating about taking public transport, even if I wished I could afford a car. Truth be told, I needed to work to help my parents with the bills, and there wasn’t much room for shopping sprees with Cathy. She never quite understood the financial constraints I faced, so I subtly shifted the blame to my parents.
As the rain pours outside, I insisted to Joey that I would be fine taking the bus. But he was persistent, expressing concern about me catching a cold. He suggested he could at least drop me off at the bus stop. I agreed, knowing he wouldn’t leave the library until I did.
We step outside, and to my surprise, a sleek black SUV is parked right in front of the entrance.
I cover my hair with my jacket as Joey opens the car door for me. I slip inside, and he settles into the front seat. But what caught me off guard was when he addresses the man in the rear-view mirror as ‘Ares.’
Those striking eyes stared back at me, even in the dim light, radiating an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.
Ares is Joey’s grandson?
It couldn’t be.
No way.
Before I could react, Joey speaks. “We are taking my friend to the bus stop first.”
“Actually, it’s fine- I can walk-” But as I reached for the door handle, I realise the locks were engaged with a small ‘thuck.’ Panic washes over me as I look back at the rear-view mirror, only to find a sinister smile spreading across Ares’ face.
“And she calls me the stalker.” He mutters.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I swallow hard, sinking back into the leather seat, trapped.
In all the years of knowing Joey, why hasn’t it come to sense that Ares is his grandson? I mean, I know his wife-Anna, but he has never brought up having grandchildren.
The car pulls away from the library, and a tense silence envelope us. I try to make sense of the situation while the rain beat relentlessly against the car windows. Questions flooded my mind, but I didn’t dare utter a word. I stole glances at Ares whenever I could, trying to figure out his intentions. His gaze remains fixed forward, unreadable. As we approach the bus stop, a surge of adrenaline courses through me. Should I make a run for it?
The rhythmic swishing of the windshield wipers accompanied the sound of rain as they cleared the droplets away.
“Alex, let us drop you home.” Joey insists.
“Just to the next bus stop is fine,” I interject, not wanting to be a burden and in the same car as him.
Ares shook his head firmly, “no. It’s dangerous out there in this weather.” I decided not to argue, secretly relieved by the free ride home. His hand rested confidently on the steering wheel, while the other casually hovered near the gear shift.
“Well, I should be getting off here, Ares-drop her outside her door! If anything happens to her, I won’t have any good book recommendations.” Joey warns him, stepping out the car.
“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Ares smirks.
I step out of the car to give him a tight hug, thanking him for his kindness. Ares asserts that I sit in the front seat, closing the door behind me. Now, I found myself inches away from him, but I kept my gaze focused on the road ahead, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.
“Where do you live?” Ares asks in a deep, smooth voice.
“Canes Street,” I reply, my heart beating a little faster than normal as the rain continued to pour outside. As the car glides through the rain-soaked streets, a palpable tension filled the air. Neither of us spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it held a certain magnetic energy. I couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at him from the corner of my eye, and each time I did, I notice his subtle smile, as if he knew something I didn’t.
We end up at a red light, he turns his face and I grip my sketchbook tighter looking ahead of me. By the time we reached my destination, the rain had started to subside.
I hesitated to get out of the car, “there’s something about you.” I whisper, gripping onto the door handle. “Something weird.”
“Something weird. Care to explain butterfly?” He faces me, our eyes locks.
“I feel like I have seen you before…”
“You have. Twice.”
“I don’t mean that, I mean…” Am I really considering that this man may be the killer? That this man may be the same one in my room the other night? “Thank you for the ride,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, trying to keep my composure as I open the car door.
“Anytime.”
As I step out into the fading rain and hurried to my front door-he didn’t move, not until I opened the door and slipped inside. I hear his car turn on as the tyres drive past, I relax myself against the door.
I make my way to my bedroom, closing my door as I slide of my jacket and chuck my things onto my bed. I force my feet out of my shoes and hear pebbles hitting my balcony doors. I slide the curtains to the side and unlock the door, Cathy was already out smoking onto her cigarette.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, “for what I said in the car…I just don’t want you getting hurt.” She chucks me the pack of cigarettes and I slide one out. “I love you.”
I release a sigh, “I love you too Catherine.”
“So, who dropped you home?”
“He did actually, his grandad is Joey.” I chuckle out, still shocked from that connection. She throws me the lighter and I take a puff, “There’s something about him Catherine.” I admit to her.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s…familiar, I feel like I’ve seen him before…” I watch her take a long drag before throwing it over the balcony.
As we stood on the balcony, Catherine’s words took me by surprise. “I mean, he is a good-looking man, but I’ve heard some weird stories about him, Alex.”
I furrowed my brow, concerned. “What do you mean? What stories?”
Her voice hushed as she leans in, sharing the chilling tale. “Apparently, there was an accident. A girl lost her life. They were both drunk, and he crashed the car, but he survived. The worst part is the girl was only nineteen. He never went to the funeral, and instead he moved on with another girl.”
He doesn’t seem like the type to do that. But yet again, I don’t know him. “But is it really true?”
Catherine nodded solemnly. “That’s what people say. I don’t know all the details, but it’s enough to give me chills. Just be careful, Alex. I don’t want you getting caught up in anything dangerous.”
Her warning lingers in the air, and a sense of caution settled over me. As much as I felt drawn to the mystery surrounding Ares, this new information cast a shadow of doubt and fear.
I knew I needed to approach the situation with more caution and discernment, but part of me couldn’t shake the intrigue that had already taken root in my heart.
She heads back into her room, and I too as I close my balcony doors. I glance down at the bracelet around my wrist.
I need to distance myself from him.