Chapter 5
Chapter Five
ANORA
I wanted to puke all over the balcony’s concrete floor.
“ You can run, little moon, but you can’t hide from me .”
This was technically the second time I’d seen this man, third if you count the glimpse I thought I caught of him outside of the boutique after my shift. Which couldn’t be confirmed or denied because it could have simply been my overactive imagination once again.
In this particular moment, I didn’t believe in chance or coincidence. Something about this just felt strange and put my nerves on edge.
I might have laughed about it or taken it as a good sign if not for the way he was looking at me like I was something to eat.
His dark brown eyes looked almost black; his face so close to mine I could see specks of green within the darkness.
His breath was warm against my lips, and I resisted the urge to pull back and fling myself over the edge of the balcony. I hadn’t felt such fear of someone before, especially not tied with an undying curiosity to know what exactly his fucking problem was.
I had seen him for the first time in a coffee shop in the city, close to my apartment and my job, and now all of a sudden, he was following me around and showing up at my friend’s boyfriend’s party? Did he even actually live here?
He was literally introduced as Joey’s roommate. Calm down.
I should have known by the tingle that went down my arms when we shook hands that he was bad news and there was something off about him. I wanted to keep him as far away from me as possible, but with our best friends dating, I had a feeling that wasn’t likely to happen.
“I’ve always been one to embrace a challenge,” I whispered, imbuing as much bravado into my words as I could before swiftly spinning on my heel and attempting to calmly walk toward the door to the stairs and back to the apartment.
The pounding of the bass from the party did nothing to alleviate the crawling of my skin that felt like the equivalent of a thousand fire ants. I felt overstimulated, my nerves shot beyond measure, and I wanted nothing more than to be in the safety of my own home.
I scanned the room and attempted to find Rory and let her know I was getting the hell out of here. I didn’t know what her nightly plans were, but I knew she was likely going to stay with Joey.
My eyes finally found her sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with Joey between her legs, her smile brighter than I had ever seen. There was no way I could ask her to leave her bubble of happiness just to keep me company against my fears of an unknown man. I felt like as soon as the words left my mouth, I’d realize just how silly it sounded.
As if she knew I was thinking of her, her eyes snapped to mine, and that bright smile instantly dropped.
“ You okay? ” she mouthed, worry etched across her features.
I tried my best to plaster on a believable smile, but the problem with being friends with Rory for so long was that she knew I was faking it.
She broke eye contact with me and leaned forward to whisper something in Joey’s ear, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek before sliding from the counter and skipping toward me.
“Ready to get out of here?” Rory said, linking her arm with mine, shouting to be heard over the music.
I didn’t say anything, just nodded as she practically dragged me to the front door. Since she knew my mind was racing just from a look across the room, there was nothing I could say that she wouldn’t already know by my unspoken looks and my tense body language. She knew I wasn’t ready to talk about it.
As we descended the stairs and left the apartment building, I felt that burning sensation on my skin again like I was being watched, and the nauseous feeling in my stomach came rolling back, causing me to stumble slightly.
“Come on, party girl. Let’s go home,” Rory said, tightening her grip on me.
Though I had a couple of drinks during the party, the buzz had worn off.
Without having to turn around, the feeling of eyes pinning me down was enough to make me stone-cold sober.
* * *
I felt like I was holding my breath until we walked through the front door of our apartment, locked the deadbolt, and set the alarm.
“Okay, spill whatever has you looking like you’ve seen the Ghost of Christmas Past,” Rory demanded as I slumped on the couch and let out the longest sigh of my existence.
“I think I may potentially have a stalker,” I admitted, and then I stopped. What would her reaction be when she found out my stalker was her boyfriend’s roommate?
“You have a what?” Rory laughed, like she imagined—and hoped—I was joking.
“I keep seeing this guy around, and he gives off unhinged energy.” I winced as I spoke. Was I making a big deal out of nothing? “A guy that looks exactly like Joey’s roommate.”
“ You can run, little moon, but you can’t hide from me. ”
Hearing his words play in my mind sent another fresh chill down my spine and put all doubt out of my mind that I was making a big deal out of very little.
“Is there anything you need me to do? Do we think he’s going to be an issue?” Rory asked, suddenly serious. “I’ve watched enough true crime to know how to make someone disappear.”
I almost laughed at her seriousness and dedication to getting rid of my fear as I thought it over, remembering his dark, haunted eyes and how he looked at me like I was his next mission in life. It sent a mixture of fear and exhilaration down my spine.
Did I think he was going to be an issue? Did I think he was going to be something I couldn’t handle? How serious did I think he was?
“It’s only been a couple of days. Maybe whoever it is was just trying to scare me,” I said, foolishly hopeful.
“Well, I have the perfect thing to take your mind off of a potential weirdo,” Rory practically sang, back to her usual happy, sunshine self. “Besides, the handful of times I’ve interacted with Quentin, he’s been nice enough. All guys look the same nowadays anyway.”
I knew that Rory was trying to make me feel better, but there was something in my gut telling me it wasn’t something that would be so easily brushed off.
“Why do I feel like I am going to regret whatever idea comes out of your mouth?” I groaned, finally feeling some of the tension leaving my muscles as my mind switched topics.
“I have a double date opportunity for you. I really want you to get to know Joey, and we really need to find you a man, especially with a creep hanging around.”
“Funny that you didn’t ask how my date with Mark went and already know I will be available for another date,” I said sarcastically.
“It doesn’t take a genius to know that man couldn’t handle you, babe.”
I rolled my eyes whilst I considered her proposition; she did have a good point about having a man around to handle my potential stalker.
But the question was: could anyone handle him?
* * *
The little bit of alcohol I’d consumed at the party the previous night came back to bite me in the ass as I fought a migraine on the way to work.
I could have easily called in—I knew Charlotte would understand—but I didn’t like to call off unless I was on my deathbed, and even then, I was hesitant to do so. I always wanted to be the kind of person people could rely on, and calling off too often made me unreliable. I cared too much about what other people thought of me.
Which, again, brought me back to my current situation: walking in the pouring rain to work with a large, iced coffee in one hand and an umbrella in the other. All the Tylenol in the world couldn’t kick this headache.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I said in lieu of a greeting as I walked into the boutique and heard the familiar jingle of the bell above the door.
I knew something wasn’t right when Charlotte’s usual peppy reply didn’t come, and my suspicions were confirmed when I turned and fully faced the shop.
Police officers swarmed the space, a breaking news report playing on mute on the televisions behind the checkout counter. I didn’t know where to look first to figure out what was going on.
My focus finally landed on the news; for some reason, my brain figured that was the best place to start.
Immediately, I wished I had looked anywhere else.
“ Police are investigating the brutal murder of a local man found this morning outside of the local coffee shop Fog and Bean. Thirty-year-old Mark Waverly of Soreno Inc. was discovered by a passerby around seven this morning. Local police received a call reporting an unresponsive individual and Mr. Waverly was pronounced dead on the scene.
Local police have launched a homicide investigation and are asking anyone with information to please come forward or call the hotline below. ”
I couldn’t feel my fingers around my coffee, and it had nothing to do with the cold. My gaze slowly found Charlotte’s bloodshot eyes, her lids puffy from crying. I made my way over to her and found nothing could leave my lips. I didn’t know what to say.
Were the police here to question me? Did they think that I had something to do with his murder?
“Oh, Nora,” Charlotte said, throwing her arms around me and sobbing into my shoulder. I realized that, although Mark wasn’t very friendly to me, it didn’t mean he wasn’t well-loved by his family.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” I said against her hair, squeezing her and trying to imbue as much comfort into my hug as I could.
Mark wasn’t the kindest of souls, and even if he didn’t make the best first impression on me during our date, that didn’t mean he deserved to die. Especially as gruesomely as it appeared he had.
My heart ached for my boss-turned-friend, and the twinge in my chest that had been there since my mother passed felt like it was going to crack open at any moment. No matter how it happened, who it was, or how old you were, loss hurt all the same. The only thing we could control about loss was how badly we let it hurt us, how much we let it affect our lives.
“What are the police doing here, Charlie?” I whispered into her hair after a few moments, not wanting to rush her need for comfort but also needing to know what the hell was going on.
“I’m Mark’s closest family here in the city. They wanted to ask me when the last time I saw him was, and if I thought there was anyone who meant him harm,” she explained in between hiccups. “They want to talk to you too, since you were one of the last people to see him alive. They told me he was at a bar all day, which seems so unusual as it is. Did he say anything to you during your date? Anything worrisome?”
“Everything that happened on my date with Mark I told you, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary to me. Maybe I upset him so badly he needed to drink it off?” I tried to make a joke, but I could tell even through her chuckle that it didn’t help as much as I’d hoped. I began to feel sick as my thoughts began to run, and I couldn’t help but feel like somehow, I’d played a part in Mark’s death, although the last time I’d seen him he was very much alive and well.
But what part in his death could I have played? Who would be crazy enough to kill someone I knew? Maybe it has nothing to do with me.
“I know my cousin could be an ass, but murdered ? It’s impossible to even imagine,” she said with a watery smile. “I don’t think you had anything to do with it if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I felt a slight weight lift from my chest, but I couldn’t stop my mind from straying to the stranger in the coffee shop who had seemed to have his eyes glued on Mark and me the entire time. Was it possible that he had something to do with it, or was that just my paranoia talking? If someone killed Mark, did that mean they would come for me next? Was I potentially in danger? My stomach turned at the possibilities, and I wanted nothing more than to go home and pretend this day never happened.
“What can I do, Charlie?” I asked, rubbing my hands up and down her arms.
“Just speak to the police and then you can head home for the day. I think I’m going to close up the shop for the rest of the week.” She sounded so sad when she said it. I hated that she felt this way.
“All right, if you’re sure. You can always call or text me if you need me. I’m sure Rory wouldn’t mind another person whose ass she can kick in Uno.”
She smiled, and it was the brightest look I’d seen her give me since I came in the door, giving me hope that everything would be okay.
* * *
“Aurora!”
“Yes?” Rory sang as she came from the kitchen with a mixing bowl in her hand, her face covered with flour. She was one of the best bakers I knew, and my stomach growled a reminder that I had barely eaten today, and it was well past lunchtime.
“I need you to learn how to use talk-to-text or something when you’re baking, woman,” I chided, slipping into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“You look like hammered shit, Nora. What the hell happened to you today? And why are you home so early?”
I went on to explain to Rory everything that had happened during my eventful morning: Mark’s murder, being questioned for what felt like an eternity by the police. The whole time, she stared at me with wide eyes, her jaw practically on the floor, never stopping the mixing of the spoon in her bowl.
“Are you fucking joking?” she exclaimed once I was done.
“I wish I was. The worst part of it all is not only was I one of the last people to see him alive, but now I don’t know if I need to be concerned for my own safety. Was this a one-off against Mark, or is someone targeting us both?”
She mulled my words over before snagging her phone, dialing almost frantically, and putting it on speaker.
“Babe?” The voice on the other line answered, and I gathered that it had to be none other than her boyfriend Joey. My stomach twisted at the thought of his creepy roommate, but I forced it away and waited to see where Rory was going with this.
“I need a favor.”