Chapter 8: I Am Thinking Too Much
She stops talking, “Are you okay, your mom said yes, right?”
“Yeah I-I’ll pick you up.” I stammer watching the man watch me. In too much of a panic I hang up the phone before Gia can say anything else.
Jeezis, I hope she doesn’t show up!
The truth is, I despise police. Gia wouldn’t hesitate to call them if she walked in on something like this.
What I need is answers.
This guy knows a hell of a lot about me and I don’t have a single clue of just who he is.
Yet, somehow I’m not as shaken up as I was earlier.
“Let’s make a deal.” I holster the gun, maybe if I come off as a little less aggressive, we can both get an understanding about what’s really going on.
He shifts forward on the couch with his elbows on his legs, “What is it that you have to offer?”
A bullet to the noggin, homie, “I know that you’re the same guy that kept me from falling in the restaurant, and I appreciate that,” I cross my arms, “But I need some answers, so you will meet me tomorrow at 7 pm at the N-”
“Northcott Liquorette?” He interrupts.
How in everything that grants blessings, “How did you-”
He stands up, a little too close for taste, and in that moment, I reach for my gun.
“I’ll be there, and if you don’t show up, I’ll just have to pay another visit.” His voice is quite mellifluous.
I hate it.
I exhale, “And if you don’t show up, I’ll find you and kill you for good fucking measure.”
“Tch,” And of all things he tilts my chin up, placing his thumb on my bottom lip. “You didn’t used to be so vulgar, Saphyre.”
Now I can’t move, but my limbs sure are trembling again, I snatch my face from his hands taking a few steps back.
My back hits the partition wall, I really should watch where I’m going. “Keep your filthy hands off of me, and I wouldn’t have to be.” I push the gun into his hood, thankfully I hit some flesh.
How did he know what I was going to say?
“7:00 pm, no later than, and come alone.” He makes his way to the door without another look back, ignoring my command as if I never said a word, “Or else.” And leaves just as quietly. I pause for about 5 seconds, then look out the windows of the sun room.
AGH, he did it again?!
My body slides down the window, limping to the floor.
That smell is so familiar.
At first I wanted to kill him but he truly seemed harmless. And of all places, as if the situation couldn’t get any creepier, I pick a speakeasy to meet at. How will I even get in?
Maybe if I conjure up a good story or where a brief outfit they’ll let me in with no problem. I hear the kids talk about the Northcott all the time at school. Well, mostly the goths and the preps.
Pshh, if any of those dunce pinheads can get in then I definitely can.
Never did I think I would see the day that someone would have followed me all the way to my home without me noticing.
Where did he even park?
Hinsdale is a very open area, we have a large estate as do all the rest of our neighbors.
This neighborhood is way nicer than the one mãe, papai and I used to live in.
So nice, that mãe convinced Gia’s family to move here at the same time we did.
The area I met Aster in was a more rigid spot, but it was the suburban vibe it had that made me fall in love with it. When John and mãe got married we were moved immediately. He thought growing up in an area like that was too ‘rancid’ for his children.
The fact that he insulted my childhood home is what made me resent him the most. In no time at all, he moved us to this uppity neighborhood full of weird white-collar, high class people of all shapes and sizes but dominantly one color.
Quite naturally, like everything about John, I hated it at first. I wanted to go back to my more diverse neighborhood in Lakeview where everyone showed their true colors and if they were creeps, you recognized it.
Here, everyone is fake, unpredictable and way too rich for their own good. I still don’t know how him or mãe manage to keep us here. Once I finally gather myself and my books, I visit the wine cellar in the house. For some reason that place calms me. Not once, have I touched a single drink in this room but today, that might change.
I find myself opening the transparent refrigerator, my head needs to regroup. What was I even thinking, telling him to meet up?
It could be the simple fact that he knew my name.
Or was it his voice that I liked...
Yep, Champagne it is.