Take Shape.

Prologue:

 The warm summer night hung heavy around his leather jacket and beads of sweat rolled down his temples as he shimmied his way around the side of the balcony. Dark ocean waves crashed and roared angrily in the back drop and he peered once more over his shoulder, before ducking his head through an open window and slipping himself quietly onto the floor. He sat for a long moment as he listened for any noises throughout the generously sized house, but there was nothing. So he rose. Stale air moved through his nose and smelled of wet wood mixed with a floral perfume. With a large inhale pulled in slowly to his lungs, he took his first step and began down the long hallway.

There were fewer doors than he had remembered, which could pose as an obstacle, he'd counted only four doors when really there were six. Setting his hand gently on the base of the first bedroom door he pushed slowly. It swung effortlessly, displaying a great window gathered by two white resting chairs. With his back against the wall he crept down the tiny hall that lead to grand opening in the bedroom. Along the wall furthest, was a broad wiry bed topped with a fluffy white comforter and colorful pillows.

Buried in the middle of them was a tiny sleeping head. He stopped. It was her. Not just six years old yet, with hair black as the night just beyond the window with waves like the ocean that lay across the colored pillows.

Calmly, he placed each foot in front of the next, being sure not to disturb the wooden floor beneath him as he inched in closer to her bed. So content she looked. A normal man with heart and feelings would feel restraint and guilty for what he was about to do, but he needed this. She was the answer to all of it. For years he'd studied and wondered and felt hopeless in the search for what he thought never existed, but now there she was, not more than five feet ahead, so calm, so powerless, and yet, still so alive.

His fists tightened in themselves as rage flooded his body and he tried to force angry visions of the past from his mind. Now was not the time, for now if he dared to loose focus at all he would misstep and ruin everything. Heart pounding against his mind he began to plunge forward through the air when suddenly he was halted. Frozen in mid-jump his body began to lower backwards in air until he was rested back upon his feet still unable to move on his own. He opened his mouth to shout but no words could escape him, instead it felt as though the walls of his ribs were breaking in around his lungs. With what strength he had in his neck he turned back to look to the doorway, the rest of his body still frozen in position.

And she was there.


Dressed in a long, black silk sleeping gown and robe with flowing hair to match, her pale skin and blue eyes were all that shown clearly in the faint light. She stood almost harmonious in the threshold of the bedroom, unmoved, but bold in thought.


He jerked once more against his invisible restraints to no avail, and stopped struggling. Her eyes held to him with such fierce anger and she shifted all of her weight to rest against the wall.


"How dare you?" She thought into his mind and it echoed loudly.


He flinched slightly in pain for the silent shout and looked back to her cold gaze.


"Let me go, you wicked woman." Again he fought against her hold.


"And why? So you may murder my child and leave with your precious ever lasting life?"


He didn't answer.


A warm wind blew through the curtains and jostled her hair around her face as she stepped forward. Her body was so thin and frail looking and she nearly towered over him in height, but her beauty was not to be compared with any creature he'd ever come across in his life.


"How could you do this?" She spoke again, this time sorrow held in his thoughts as her voice sang through him. "I trusted you so."


"You knew this would happen." He answered.


"I thought that it might, but never you." Her crystal eyes so distressed and still so enraged.


There was a silence again as his mind rushed with ideas of what he should do. Paralyzed he was useless.


"I will make you a deal." She spoke, interrupting his thoughts.


A deal was not what he'd come here for tonight, but any other way out seemed more than hopeless.


"Aye?" His own word echoed in his mind.


"You will have me instead."


Her offer struck like fire inside him. So long he'd wished for the strength to take her, and so many times he'd failed against his own will power.


"Why you?"


"Because she is my child, and I her mother. I posses all the power that you're after and then some. She will be useless to you." Her eyes pierced into his.


He weighed this offer, wondering why after so long, she was giving in and without so much as a fight.


"The catch?" He finally asked.


"You will vow to the Highest that from here on you will never attempt for her life again, and if you do, you will be sent to the darkest depths of Hell to wallow forever."


And after a few long moments had passed, he nodded in agreement.


"You have my word."


Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled from within the pocket of her robe a small metallic dagger.


"Not here." She whispered out loud, and the ghostly chains around him fell at last, then she began to walk towards the door of the room.


He stepped out to follow as she turned one last time, her gaze past him to where the little girl lay silently in her over sized bed. The longing look in her glassy stare held all the love in the world. So many thoughts appeared in the reflection of her blue eyes, yet no words were said. A teary smile filled her face before she lifted her hand to her lips and blew a small kiss. Finally she faced back towards the door and headed out of the room, and he followed closely behind her, back in front of the window that he'd entered the house through.


She slipped out of her robe and tossed it aside on the floor before finally turning to face him, and he stopped with only a few small feet to separate them both.


"You will do it, then you will leave." He would appeal to her demands, weather he wanted it this way or not.


"And how am I to believe that you will actually die here tonight? I've only heard stories of the sacrifice, never once have I seen it to be true."


"You will repeat the vow that I tell you, and you will puncture the knife here," She mimicked with the dagger in hand where he would need to push the blade, "And when it is done-" She paused then let her gaze fall, "When it is done I will stop breathing, my heart with stop pumping and I will be gone. You will know."


Their eyes met at once, and she lowered herself to the ground where she laid out onto her back. The moon light danced through the window and rolled down her body catching every line her silhouette just right. She was nothing less than that of a goddess, and such a waste it seemed now. He steadied himself and knelt down next to her and placed the dagger in his hand. It was icy and delicate against his sweaty palms. Then he lifted his eyes to meet hers once more. The most beautiful eyes he'd ever known.


Now repeat after me, she spoke into his mind, forcing his lips to move.


"With this dagger, I take her as my own, her soul is my soul and I am her vessel. With this dagger I take from her the life that moves her and with each power she possesses, I now posses. I vow to leave here on this night and not to return. Her daughter will remain unharmed by me. I will do as I say or I will be dragged to the depths of Hell where I will burn each day until the end of time." Her words fell from his mouth, and then it was done. The knife pierced her skin like a needle to cloth spilling only the tiniest drop of blood. And then he spoke his own words down into her ear as she took her last breath, "I love you, Rose. Now and forever."

CHAPTER 1

The Windshield whippers pushed rain back forth on the glass as I sat silent in the passenger seat.

"Everything okay?" My dad asked breaking a long awkward silence.


"I'm fine, dad." I huffed back, in hopes that three words would be enough of an answer for him.


"Casey, I'm only going to be gone for a week—two tops." His unsureness was enough to aggravate me even more, so I didn't respond. "Case, when I get back we'll do something special for your birthday, alright?"


"Sure, dad." I answered.


"If there was a way I could be here for it, honey, you know I would. But I have to go." There was more awkward silence. "How does California sound?"


I looked over at him in disbelief.


"Dad, you hate Cali." I said, trying hard not to let myself be bribed into happiness like a five year old.


"And you love Cali." He grinned.


"For how long?" I asked, my defenses weakening.


"For as long as you want. We'll rent out a beach house and you can surf to your hearts desire. What do you say? Yes, and you'll cheer up before I board the plane?" His goofy-hopeful face made it hard enough, but his offer was one I couldn't refuse.


"And I get to bring Olivia?"


He waited a dramatic moment before rolling his eyes and nodding.


"Yes!" I shouted, just as he pulled the car to the curb in front of drop-off area of the airport.


Almost in unison we opened our doors and went to the back of the Range Rover, where we met for a hug. I crumbled in comparison to the size of his big arms as he embraced me. Never in the world was there ever as good of a hug-giver as my dad, and never would there be.


"I'll miss you, muffin." He said as he kissed the top of my head.


"You too." I mumbled into his chest.


He reached down into his back pocket and retrieved a small pink envelope and placed it in my hands. "Happy birthday, Casey. I'm sorry I wont be here for it. But I will make it up to you I promise. Don't open that card until after your birthday." He said.


"Thank you, Dad. I love you."


"You too." He replied. (Saying the “L-Word” wasn't really his style.) He opened the trunk and pulled out his things. "Barbra will be at the house around two, make sure you let her know that her check is in my office. Be good and be safe."


I nodded as he jogged off and disappeared behind the automatic sliding doors, then I hopped in the driver's side door and pulled away.

I let no time pass before I dialed Olivia.

"This call better be worth me waking up before eight A.M." She answered, her voice still groggy with sleep.

"I just dropped my dad off at the airport, he had a six-o'clock flight." I said.

"I'll be sure to alert the press. Robert Rowan had a flight at the butt-crack of dawn. Noted, now may I please go back to sleep?"

"He's flying us out to Cali for my birthday." I announced smugly.

"SHUT! UP!" She exclaimed, now wide awake.

"Yeah! Probably not for my birthday, cause there's school, but maybe we can make it a double whammy and have it be a graduation present or something?"

"Oh my gosh! How did you convince him into agreeing that this trip needed to take place?"

"He's gonna be out of town for my actual birthday." I said, trying to hide the still existing anger.

"Bummer." Sarcasm hung too heavy in her voice.

"It is a bummer. However, I'd say a trip to Cali is well worth a make-up toll fee."

And we both laughed.

"Hey, your dad being out of town means you're driving the Beamer, huh?"

"The Range Rover, actually." I replied.

"That'll have to do. You can be my chauffeur to la Bibliotheca." She said in her best Spanish accent.

"Um, I think you meant la escuela." I corrected.

"Tomato, toe-ma-toe. You need coffee and I need a sexy car to take me to school. So we'll stop by The Bean on the way and I'll pay, yeah?"

"Works for me," I answered, "Be there in twenty."

Olivia's neighborhood was close enough to town that we could make it to coffee before the first period school bell rang. That was of course, assuming she wouldn't take three hours of prep-time before leaving her house.

I sat in the driveway for over twenty minutes honking assertively before she finally emerged from her front door. She wore faded blue skinnies and an over sized white mock. She walked heavily down the walkway in her Carmel colored clogs, still fidgeting with her half-wet strawberry blond hair.

"Jesus, calm down. My mom would flip if she heard you lay on your horn like that." She barked while slamming the car door behind her.

"Yes, well if you'd learn to answer your phone when it rang I wouldn't have to remind you that we have fifteen minutes until school starts." I answered.

"Fifteen minutes is a lot of time, sheesh."

"Liv, I called you over an hour ago, that's more than enough time to get ready for school."

"Whatever," She grumbled, "I'm ready now, Kay? Lets get coffee."

And with that I was down the road that would take us to coffee and school. Once in the main parking lot of our high school I reached in the back to retrieve my messenger bag and flipped down the mirror to freshen up.

"Is that a new jacket?" Olivia asked, also flipping her mirror down and opening up a tube of sparkly pink lip-gloss.

"Yeah, got it last week in Seattle. I figured April seemed too late to buy a tight leather jacket, but I've wanted one all year." I answered.

"Maybe in Florida April its too late in the year," she laughed, "but not Washington. You can still rock that thing for three more months before the sun will even think about coming out."

With lattes in hand we strolled through the front lobby of the school and up the main stairs. There we rounded to our lockers where we gathered books and exchanged notes before parting ways.

My first and favorite period was English with Mr.Miller. I scooted past the usual loud group of girls gathered in the front of the room and made my way to the furthest row of desks and plopped down.

The first bell rang and brought the class' loud buzz to a silent whisper as Mr. Miller shut the door behind him.

"Morning my beautiful seniors, and how was every one's weekend?" He asked.

"Crappy," A boy across the room called out. A few laughs of response arose.

Mr. Miller ignored the comment and continued. "Well, I'm glad you all have enjoyed yourselves because this morning we've got a pop-quiz and three assignments due, I'm assuming you all read chapters five through twelve liked was asked of you?"

"No." Another called, and more students laughed.

"Great, well, this should be a piece of cake then," he handed a stack of quizzes to a girl in the front row, "take a sheet and pass the papers back, and good luck."

Luckily I had spent my weekend alone while Olivia had gone with her parents to Portland. This meant all of my homework had been successfully completed on time and also meant I was prepared for this specific quiz. When finished I sat silently toying with my phone until there was only fifteen minutes left in class. Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened and two students emerged. One was a familiar girl named Laura Turnip, she was short and round with bright red hair and freckles to match, the other an unfamiliar boy with broad shoulders.

When they reached Mr. Miller's desk Laura bent down and whispered something to our teacher briefly while handing him a note, then she turned to the guy and whispered something to him before exiting the class. A few short beats passed before Mr. Miller said something to the student then motioned to the only open desk in the whole room; the one behind me. Of course. He shifted his gaze to across the room in my direction as an insuperable heat filled my cheeks. From behind my folded hands I studied the boy carefully. His appearance seemed almost lethal. Under long strands of fallen dark hair, two black eyes sat deep below the line of his brow. An eerie curve twisted wickedly into the line of his sharp lips. Dressed in casual jeans and a black shirt, there was something somewhat commanding about his appearance. Commanding--and terrifying. Instantly I pulled my eyes back down to my phone and tried to ignore the direction he was walking. A feeling I couldn't quite pin-point, uneasiness--no--fear, fleeted through my now pulsing veins and an invisible gray cloud seemed to slip overhead.

As he rounded the isle and casually strolled past each desk I forced myself not to make eye contact, for as long as I could until, unintentionally, they shot up to him. Colorless and bold they sliced through me and my heart jumped. In that same motion his eyes pulled away. He tossed his things heavily on the desk behind mine, scaring me out of my half-way trance.

Ignoring the hammering eyes behind me, I shoved all of my belongings back into my bag, then reached for my phone to text Olivia and tell her to meet me at the locker pronto. The bell to release us rang and we all lifted from our seats. I dodged my way through the crowd then darted quickly down the hall.

"What's up?" She asked stepping beside me as I fumbled nervously through our locker.

"Creepy new dude in my English class." I said, searching for my history book.

"Is he hot?"

"Does it matter?!" I snapped at her, just as a hand tapped against my shoulder. Still jumpy I flew in full circle around to find him standing behind me.

"Sorry, Casey, but I think you dropped this in English." He said, while holding out the tiny pink envelope that my dad had given to me just hours before. Seriously?

"I didn't even realize I'd brought this in with me," I retrieved it quickly from his hand, "Uh, thanks." I spun back away from him and continued to look busy in my locker.

"Have a nice day." Olivia practically sang as he walked away, then she circled back to me, "Well that was incredibly rude of you!" She all but yelled.

"Rude? That guy is freaky. I didn't even have this card with me earlier." I replied.

"What is it anyways?" She asked, her eyes still in the direction of where the creep had left.

"It's a birthday card that my dad gave me. Can we please focus on the topic at hand here? Creepy guy from English." I re-routed our conversation.

"Creepy? That guy was smoking! He looked way too mature for high school!" She laughed, "You really should consider going to the eye doctor some time in the near future because your vision is failing you. When the beautiful hunk of man from English checks you out in class, its not creepy its mysterious, and instead of playing coy you ran to your locker. Have I taught you nothing?"

I stared back at her, unamused.

"Well I'm not into mysterious. Besides, he wasn't checking me out he was looking at me like he knew me from somewhere and wherever that somewhere had been, he hated me. It was weird."

"Well, he couldn't have hated you too much, he brought you back your birthday card." She said as we started down the hall for second period, "I wonder if he has any hot brothers."

. . .
By the end of the school day I was looking at six homework projects, two presentations,
one including a power point and three quizzes to study for. And most of which was to be accomplished before Wednesday. Needless to say, it was time for round-two of my coffee trip to The Bean.

"Wait, so I don't understand these notes," Olivia said while shuffling through my stack of English papers, and examining them like they were in a different language. "Romeo dies or Juliet dies?"

"Both."

"So how does this constitute as a love story then?" She asked still puzzled.

"Have you read any of the book at all? Or better yet, were you even born remotely close to this planet?!" I reached out a took the papers from her. "Please just read through the first chapter, or Google the summary of the story, or learn something about the story line before you try and tackle studying for a quiz."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh fine. Party poop." she huffed before sipping a drink of her latte. "Which reminds me, speaking of parties..."

"The answer is no." I stopped her before she could continue down that path.

"UGH!" She moaned loudly, causing a few heads through out the coffee shop to turn in our direction. "Come on, Casey! Please just hear me out. You're going to be eighteen in a week, you live in a freaking mansion and your dad will be out of town. If not for yourself please just call it an early birthday bash for those less fortunate--a.k.a. your best friend--and let loose for just one night? Please?"

I looked back down to my homework.

"Yeah, right, and how do you presume I approach Barbra about this? Oh please housekeeper who tells everything I do to my dad, please let me have a raging kegger for my eighteenth and also if you could not mention it to him, that would just be the best?"

She stared at me in defeat for only a moment before continuing with her sales pitch.

"Case, she's only there four days a week. We could plan around it and you know it."

I couldn't admit that she had a point. Not out loud anyway.

"No." I grumbled.

"Please?!"

"Maybe."

"Tomorrow night?"

"This weekend."

"YES!" She exclaimed and threw her fists in the air, this time causing more attention than before. "I win! Saturday it is!"

Arguing with her would prove to be a useless battle. Since grade school Olivia had always been the best at convincing me to do nearly everything I ever questioned. Everything from Tabasco on eggs to playing ding-dong-ditch, if I doubted it, she didn't. Besides, it was after all my eighteenth birthday. And at the end of the day, if I planned it responsibly, my dad wouldn't flip. Not that he ever "flipped" about anything I did.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I said calming her down, "I will be in charge of getting this planned. You may not invite the entire school and you especially may not invite Debra Clark or any of her plastic whore-faced friends."

"Ew, gross," she made a disgusted face, "I'm disappointed that you would even think that of me. We both are aware that I know better than that."

I shot her a mocking look.

"As long as you're more up-to-date with her than you are with the age old tale of Romeo and Juliet then I'd say we're in the clear."

She made a scouts honor motion with her hand and dismissed my rude comment.

"Saturday it is," I repeated. "But please let's not speak of it until after I finish all of this stinking homework I have."

"Fine, but you and I both know that you'll be done with all of it by tomorrow."

Another battle I wouldn't argue with; she knew me well. I'd complain about all the work, but it would be done before I went to bed tonight.

. . .

 By the time I had dropped Olivia off and rounded up the big empty hill to my place I had already received three texts from people that had "heard from Olivia that I was having a birthday party this weekend." Gee, thanks, Liv. The good news was I had almost finished all pf my homework at the coffee shop, which would leave plenty of time for me to figure out how I would approach Barbra, my dad's hired housekeeper, about the party. After parking and getting my things, I glanced up at my house. It stood dark and lurid against the gray sky just as it always had. Despite it's emptiness, it was tall and beautiful. It was the house my mom had always dreamed of and only spent a few years in before she'd died. My dad had allowed her to design every last corner of the nearly five thousand square foot home, and she'd done so beautifully. Compared to most houses in this part of my small town it was very ahead of its time. Perched on the very top of a lonely hill it emerged from the side of a cape that sat in front of the ocean, with its back to the whole town. The walls were high and had different levels of roofs that were flat and square. Victorian and Modern all at once, the whole thing was made of aphoristic stone and towered above the surrounding tree line. Intimidating a little at first glance, but to me it was home.

Once in I discarded my belongings at the bottom of the stairs and made way for the kitchen, where--to no surprise--Barbra was already working on dinner. The aroma of lemon juice and garlic spices danced through the air while I strolled over to the row of bar stools and found a seat.

"Mm!" I said whilst inhaling a lungful of the nearly edible perfume. "Whats for dinner?"

She turned and smiled, "Your favorite. Lemon chicken and garlic mashers with asparagus."

My stomach grumbled. "Awesome! Whats the occasion?"

"Your birthday." She said, instantly sending curiosity through me.

"But my birthday isn't until Saturday..."

"Please don't be mad at me," She began, turning from the counter to face me, "But my boyfriend surprised me with tickets to a show this weekend in Seattle. I can stay if you'd rather..."

"Barb," I teased, "How come you never told me you had a boyfriend?"

She frowned back at me.

"Like I said, I can go another time." She spun back around to the stove and I jumped off of the bar stool I'd been sitting on, then came around the counter to her side.

"Don't worry about it." I planted a quick kiss on her plump cheek. "I'm sure Liv already has something in the works that she's been planning all year. Remember my last birthday? I still can't believe that she convinced the guy at the water park to do that for me."

Distracting from the truth seemed like the best way to avoid this topic. Besides, fate clearly had my birthday in mind, which made it even harder to deny myself of this party.

"Are you sure? We could go out to dinner on Sunday if you'd like, to make up for it? I just don't want you to be alone on your big day." She said, with a hint of guilt in her voice.

"Sunday it is." I reached into the steel plated fridge and pulled out a water and an orange. "And trust me, with Olivia as my best friend, I will be anything but lonely that day."

Lying wasn't exactly my best attribute, in fact, I was rather shocked with myself for being able to play it off so cool, but as I headed up the stairs to my room, it felt less like lying and more like leaving details out, which brought a faint smile to my lips. I knew it wasn't the worst lie I'd ever told, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

My room was the last door on the right at the end of a very long hallway, next to a grand window that I'd, to this day, never been allowed to unlock. There was a tiny hall that led to the big opening into my room. On the wall furthest from the door, my queen-size ivory wired bed sat under white strands of hanging satin curtains. Intertwined along the metal rods of the headboard were strands of dim white lights. The white comforter matched the white walls and computer desk, even the two sitting chairs by the bay window were all white. Everything else in the room though, had color on it. Pillows of all sizes and bright colors scattered my bed, long baby-blue curtains hung on the bay to off-set the black and white zebra print rug  in the middle of the hard-wood-floor and on every surface were bright smelly candles in sparkled glass jars. The walls were mainly bare except for over the computer desk where I'd hung two of my older surfboards and above my head board was a framed quote that read:

"The Sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever." -By Jacques Cousteau

It was an eclectic sort of beachy feel that I'd acquired over many years of loving and living by the ocean.

I tossed my jacket and bag along my bed then headed into my bathroom where I stripped off the rest of my clothes and ran the shower water to extra hot. I wrapped myself in a fluffy green towel and headed to the back to the bathroom that led into my walk-in closet. There I pulled some shorts and a t-shirt out for after, and hopped in the shower.

It was almost therapeutic. The heat of the water rolled down my bare skin and with it took the small stresses brought on by school work. My life wasn't overly stressful in any way, nor did I have many days that were too hard or sad. Typically, though, anyone who conquered eight days of homework in no less than three hours time would find a blazing hot shower to be the perfect remedy of all the tense muscles currently residing between my shoulder blades.

I exhaled the day of work and basked for a moment in the warm steam, when, from somewhere just outside of the shower curtain, I heard my name. It was soft and quite but spoken clearly.

"Casey..." It whispered and my eyes shot open. Every hair on my body lifted from my skin for a short moment and I froze in position.

"Hello?" I said back, still unmoved.

Moments passed and there was no response. Bravely, I poked my head out between the shower wall and curtain and peered slowly around the bathroom. There was no one.

"Hello?" I asked once more, this time a little less on-edge as before. But no one answered. So I switched the water off and reached for my towel. I walked back in my empty closet then to my room where my bedroom door remained unopened. Peculiar, I thought to myself, before going back into the bathroom and deciding it was safe to put my clothes on. After a few long moments had passed and I was fully dressed I decided to venture back downstairs, where Barbra had just set dinner out on the counter.

"That was a fast shower." She said when I entered the room.

"Yeah, um... did you call me?" I asked, slightly hopeful to hear her answer.

"Nope." The response I was afraid of. She turned to me with a baffled look on her face. "Like on the phone?"

"No," I began, "Like out loud, when I was in the shower, I could have sworn I heard you--or someone--call my name."

We held a long and awkward stare for a moment before I decided to shake it off.

"Hmm, strange." I finally said. "Must have been my stomach growling. I'm so excited for this feast!"

She smiled, then handed me a plate and fork, "Well dish up, I made plenty!"

After dinner and a slice of pie with tea for dessert, we washed the dishes together and told each other goodnight before retreating to our rooms. Barbra was given the keys to the guest house a few month after working for my dad. We had gone through a series of part-time-nanny-live-ins most of my elementary years, when she'd finally answered to an add that my dad had put in the paper. It took about two minutes for me to decided that she was the winner and my dad offered her the full time position shortly after; The rest was history. Having all grown kids of her own she was blessed with three grandchildren that made her a perfect fit for a home with an only child like ours. She was attentive and kind and filled the void that a father couldn't, though old enough to be my grandma, she was fit for a mother and I'd come to love her like one.

I laid in bed with only the glow of my light-strand and cell phone while I text Olivia.

"Will you need a ride tomorrow?" I asked, via text.

"Yeah, the Honda is in the shop till tomorrow afternoon. I will more than likely need a ride to the shop too, you down?" She replied a few moments later.

"Sure. I'll be at your house by eight. If you're not ready by then you can walk."

"In that case, I'll start getting ready now ;)" She text back, and I laughed.

"Love you! Night." I responded before switching my phone off and setting it on my night stand.

I laid in silence for only a few moments thinking about the odd episode in the shower earlier in the night, before drifting into a rather bizarre dream...

Night had fallen around a small out-dated town that my mind drew out vividly. I ran through the streets alone frantically. Icy cold air whipped my long dark hair back and forth around my face. From behind I sensed something lurking far off in the trees that lined the small village. My breath came in huge foggy gulps as I tripped over my agitated feet. Lost and unsure I flew suddenly behind the safety of an over sized wagon in front of a dark ally-way gripping my arms around myself. My heart pounded uncontrollably beneath my rib cage and tears fell like stormy raindrops down my face. Where was I? None of this looked familiar. Dim street lamps lit a poorly structured road and outdated short brick buildings, at least four or five of them, they sat closely to one another. Suddenly a door to the building closest to the wagon flew open and two men stormed out fussing loudly back and forth at one another. The first man was tall with lean legs and made his way to the end of the wagon, putting himself in view of me. I held my breath, but he didn't seem to notice my existence. He wore black tight cloth-like pants that ran to tall leather bound boots, his face was hidden, draped in a dark gray hooded cloak that hung over his head and rolled off his shoulders and down his back. Swiftly the cloak jerked from left to right as the man spun back to face the other man. Across from him stood an even taller, burly fellow with a large round gut and mopey brown eyes, saliva nearly dripped from his teeth as he yelled at the man in the gray cloak.

"I told you never to show your face here again, boy!" his voice echoed in the cold night.

The man in the cloak said nothing in return.

"Heed my warning, son, I will have you and your cowardly friend hung for what you've done if you don't turn your back and leave this very instant!" And then there was silence.

The younger man in the cloak stepped forward and they both disappeared beside the other end of the wagon, where there was a shuffle, a snapping noise, then more silence. I ducked down to see the feet of the two men as the man in black boots stepped back, then suddenly the yelling man fell hard against the ground. His mopey eyes fell open as well as his dripping mouth and his head cocked to the right in my direction. Even in the poor street lighting, I could tell he was dead. I held my hand around my mouth to suppress a scream inside of me. Again my heart began to race as I searched frantically for the second set of black boots that no longer shown on the opposite side of the wagon. In an instant I was being drug from behind me. Two strong hands grasped tightly to either of my shoulders and pulled me backwards down the dark road. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. So I lashed my head backwards forcing it into the man's chest and flying forward out of his grasp. I hit the ground for only a moment before advancing forward off of my hands and running down the road. I didn't think twice, nor did I dare look back, all I knew was that I needed to run away, and so I did. In full sprint I took off past the man still lying dead on his side and towards the blackened woods in the distance. Footsteps trudged heavily behind me as I carried my body ahead as fast as I could. The night set in around me as I submerged myself into the sharp tree branches pushing and shoving them side to side when in that same moment it occurred to me that the sharp branches had now turned soft, and were in fact, blankets.

CHAPTER 2.

My eyes opened slowly as they adjusted to the bright sunlight that now stretched across my bedroom, they blinked into focus. Still drenched in sweat I slowly picked myself up off of my pillows. Well that was weird. I sat in silence a few extra moments and tried to take inventory of the strange dream I'd just come out of. Never could I remember ever having a dream so vivid. The cold air felt like it was there around me and the hands from the cloaked figure's grasp still ached in my shoulders. I steadied my thoughts and looked over to the clock on the night stand that read- 6:32 a.m. then let a few more moments pass so that my heart beat could calm itself. Something about that dream was too real for me, so real that I was having a hard time shaking it. But I was safe now, in the comfort of my real bed that was here in my real room and if I sat here any longer I would be late for my real school. So I got up and got ready.

After deciding that today would be too cold to wear a white camisole on it's own I layered it under a light gray unbuttoned sweater, paired it with long faded jeans and a brown belt, then slipped into some coral colored ballet flats. I added a few curls to the ends of my long black hair to hide the sweaty mess I'd woken up in then combed trough it with my fingers. I added a few swipes of mascara and some bronze powder and concealer to lighten up my sleepy eyes, then finished with a clear glaze of gloss. For a moment I looked back at myself in the mirror to review the finished product. I'd been blessed with my mother's eyes and arched brows and had grown into the same pointed cheekbones and nose. I couldn't remember much of how my mom looked in real life, but the pictures my dad had given me were enough to be thankful for. She was tall and tan with long black hair, her features were fierce at first glance, yet softened with time. She looked runway-ready always, though not by choice, simply by nature. A natural gene that I myself had happily inherited from her, some may review it as vain, but I was proud in the skin I'd had with the face she'd given me. It was similar enough to hers that each day that I grew older I found the reflection more in her image than my own.

Barbra made sure I'd left with a few pieces of jelly toast and I was out the door. I made the wise decision to grab coffee prior to picking up Olivia this morning and held both cups of coffee in hand as I rung the door bell. Olivia was the only daughter of four children, as well as the youngest. The Lewis family shared an over crowded drafty house located smack-dab in the middle of town.

"Why, hello there miss Casey." Olivia's mom greeted me at the door with a smile. "Olive is still upstairs getting ready."

"Good, morning Mrs. Lewis, you're looking beautiful as ever." I smiled back and walked passed her through the door. "I should have known that she still wouldn't be ready. Someone has really got to get it through to her that school is not short for fashion show."

I heard her laugh behind be and I pranced up the short staircase.

Olivia's room was the first door on the left of the little hallway and was covered in all sorts of different magazine clippings.

"Knock, knock!" I hollered as I pushed my way in through the opening.

"Morning." She answered. She was still sitting at her vanity with curlers in her hair and no pants on.

"And to you, miss." I nodded, in acknowledgment. "I brought the coffee to you today, and seeing as to how you're still pant-less, I can tell I've made a wise decision."

She stood up and grabbed the coffee from my hands.

"Thanks, you're a peach." she said, before turning and disappearing behind her closet's doors.

When she reemerged she was dressed in a light emerald-green tailored button up, tucked into dark skinny jeans that slipped into high, tan-colored suede boots. Olivia was fair skinned with hair that was not quite blond, and not quite red. Before makeup she had freckles on her nose and pale brows and lashes, however, she almost always covered all of them. Curvier than I and just a smidgen shorter. Her hair was just past her shoulders and she usually kept it curled and pulled back on the sides, today though, she pulled it all up into a pony tail and finished her outfit with spritz of some pink rosy perfume that always reminded me of when I was a young girl.

"Okay, you look like you're auditioning for a part in The Hills, now can we please go?" I wined.

"Easy for you to say." She sassed back, while slipping into a heavy tan coat.

"Not all of us were born bronze and beautiful, some of us must primp and prepare ourselves for standing anywhere near people like you."

"Oh, whatever!" I yelled from behind as I followed down the stairs. "Your flattery is highly inaccurate."

Her mom met us by the front door with lunch money and a kiss for her, then we were out the door and on the road to school.

                                                           
                                                                   . . .
"Good morning, Casey." A boy with thick blond hair greeted as we walked through the front lobby of school to meet out group of a few friends. Of whom, Olivia insisted only hung out with us because we came from money. And by we, she meant me.

"Morning, Conner." I smiled politely and waved at the others.


"Good morning, Olivia," Olivia said to herself, "Oh, hi self, good morning to you, too."

"Ha-ha, sorry, Olivia." Conner laughed, "Good morning to you, as well." And she rolled her eyes.

We were met by him and three others, Josh Kemp, Megan Hill, and Danielle Clark, who, in a contradicting twist, was the younger sister of whore-faced Debbie Clark, a girl in which I'd grown to despise.

"So," Josh started, "Party at your place this weekend, eh, Rowan?"

Every one's hopeful eyes, including Olivia's, looked towards me.

"News sure does travel fast around here.” I said glaring over at Olivia. “ But. I guess if I'm gonna throw a party, it might as well be for my eighteenth birthday, right?"

"We're trying to keep it at the minimal body count," Olivia added, "So please keep your invites to few. Especially you." She pointed to Danielle. "Your sister gets wind of this and we can kiss this party goodbye. I refuse to have my best friend's birthday bash ruined all because El Diablo found a way to sabotage the whole shin-dig."

Danielle nodded in compliance. We weren't really sure why her older sister, had such a long hit-list, but what puzzled us most is that for some strange reason, even since grade school, I'd managed to make the top of the list. For years their dad, Frank, had worked in a lower branch as a manager for the company that my own dad was the CEO of. I'd always known them to be somewhat friendly with one another, but it was no secret to anyone that Frank had always been out for my dad's job. Which lead me to believe Debbie had probably heard one or two negative remarks about my dad slip from Frank's mouth, and therefore, took it out on me. Danielle on the other hand, lived in a seperate home than her sister, with their divorced mom and had been friends with Oivia for about a year now. We accepted her as one of our own and didn't care whom she was related to anymore. But in the event that her older sister could go far out of her way (something I wouldn't put past her) to ruin someone else's birthday, we had to plan carefully.

"Speaking, of Lucifer..." Olivia nodded to the left, just as Debbie and a few plastic looking girls following close behind her sashayed by. Her bleach blond hair was cut into a sharp a-line bob and curved just under her cheek bones. She waltzed by with one hand on her rail-thin hip and the other pulled tightly around her bedazzled phone. Her pink nails matched her pink lips that matched her pink top and pink heels. All in which were the opposite color of her soul. I was certain that was black.

We stared back in disgust and not one of us spoke as the group of girls passed. Finally, I broke the silence.

"Well, I'd say that concludes this morning gathering. We'll talk more about this weekend later. I've gotta get my books, we'll see you guys at lunch." In agreement, everyone said their bye's.

. . .

First and second period came and went faster than I would have expected. With doodles and notes prepared for the party I met Olivia at the locker so that we could walk to our third period Spanish class together.

"So, you were wrong about the creepy guy." She started as we took to our combined desk in the back of the room.

"Huh?" She caught me slightly off guard.

"He was in my History class this morning. He showed up late, but very helpful when I asked how to do the Abe Lincoln time-line." The bell rang and sent us to our seats.

"Okay, class." Mrs. Sanchez began. "We're going to jump straight into our work today. We we will be working on our conversation skills. For the beginning of this class, I would like you to turn to your partners and have full conversations about whatever you see fit, but of course, in Spanish. I will be coming around to each table and taking notes." And with that our tasks were set. "Please begin."

Olivia turned to me with wide, agonized eyes. If there was one class she was worse in than English, (given it was at least her first language) it was Spanish. She'd taken the class with me after I begged we did it together before a trip to Cabo for spring break last year. As it turned out, most of the locals in Cabo spoke perfect English, proving our two years of high school Spanish completely useless.

"Como estas esta manana?" I started with something easy.

"Seventeen." She answered, helplessly, in English.

I bit back laughter.

"I asked you how you were doing this morning, not how old you were."

"Well, it all sounds the same to me, okay?" She huffed.

So I changed the subject. "So, did you by chance learn his name?"

"Able, I think it was. Or maybe it was Adam...or Evan? I'm not sure." Her voice trailed off.

"I think I'll stick with creepy-guy-from-English." I laughed, just as the teacher moved towards our desk with a clip board in hand.

"Me gustan los perros." Olivia blurted, in an attempt to show off the only Spanish skills she had, announcing that she liked dogs.

"Me gustan los perros tambien. Tiene usted alguna los perros?" I answered that I also liked dogs, then asked if she had any.

"Me gustan delfines." She returned awkwardly with: "I like dolphins."

I forced the laughter down inside of me as the teacher raised one brow and looked down to her board before strolling away. Olivia exhaled nervously.

"You like dolphins? Really?" I rolled my eyes at her. “Two years of Spanish has taught you that you like dolphins?”

"Yeah, well, no me gusta la clase de Espanol!" She exclaimed loud enough for the teacher to stop ahead, without turning, and scribble something more on her board.

When the bell chimed for lunch we were to our lockers and down the stairs in no time. Olivia, who was still disgruntled over our day in Spanish, sat next to me at our lunch table chatting rather loudly with her mom on the phone.

“Okay, well school gets out at two-fifteen, meet me out front.” She yelled as if we were at a concert, rather than a small cafeteria filled with students. “Fine, mom, I just wanna get there before they close at three okay? Yeah, sure. Okay, bye mom.” She held her hand up and covered her mouth, and whispered, “I love you too, mom.”

Not one of us spoke a word as she hung up then put her phone into her bag.

“What? I love my mom, okay?” She defended, looking up at us.

“Just not enough to say it out loud.” Josh joked, and we all laughed.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“So, change of plans.” She said, turning her focus to me. “I don't need a ride after school anymore, my mom is going to take me to get my car out of the shop instead.”

“Works for me.” I answered, just as I noticed two dark eyes staring at me from across the room. Perched grimly against the wall with his arms folded over himself, he stood alone, staring at me. Nervously, I pulled my eyes down to my food and tried to ignore him.

“Who is that?” Conner inquired, drawing every one else' attention in the same direction.

“New guy.” Olivia disclosed in between shoving potato salad in her mouth. “As well as my future husband.”

I rolled my eyes. “He's in my English class and he's kinda creepy.”

“Do you want me to go ask him what his problem is?” Conner asked in his most gallant voice. Ever since second grade, Conner had a not-so-secret crush on yours truly, unfortunately the feeling hadn't been mutual.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I laughed. “Guys like that just creep me out.”

“Guys like what? The tall, dark, handsome, rugged, long-haired, studly, strong kind?” Olivia asked, as she gawked in his direction. “Yeah, I totally hate those type of guys too.”

“I can see your drool.” I glared back at her.

“Yeah? Well, I can see Conner's.” She teased and the rest of the table laughed.

I let a few long moments pass before I decided to look back up, but he was gone. There was no sign of him or his charcoal eyes anywhere in the Cafeteria. A small sigh of relief exhaled from somewhere inside of me. I was still uncertain as to why I tensed up so nervously under the heat of his gaze, but I wasn't about to try and make myself figure out why it happened. What I did know, what that I could probably go the rest of my life without the concern of those creepy black eyes.

. . .

The rest of the week rolled by on a slow moving train. By Friday I had most of the details for my party all figured out and was more than ready for the school week to be over when the final school bell rang that day.

Olivia and I made plans to meet at the down-town mall so we could find dresses for Saturday night. I'd never really be one for cocktail dresses, but that meant nothing to Olivia, whom insisted that all eighteenth birthdays should be spent in sparkly little Tu-tu’s. I figured if I opted out on the 'sparkly ballerina' part I'd probably be able to find something to my liking.

I was listening to her unload about how frustrated she was with her mom for washing her favorite white v-neck in a load of jeans when we walked into her favorite store.

“Oh. My. Gosh! There it is!” She exclaimed, pointing to a Barbie-Pink taffeta dress covered in rhinestones that reminded me of a sparkly cupcake.

“My birthday dress?” I nervously asked, a bit disturbed by how bright the fuchsia dress was.

“No, mine!” She rushed to the rack that it hung from and dramatically embraced the dress like it was an old friend, then looked around for a store employee. “Excuse me. Miss, do you guys have this in a medium?”

The store employee led Olivia to the back of the store to retrieve her perfect dress, leaving me behind. I gazed around the racks knowing that none of these overly poofy and unnecessarily bedazzled dresses were anything near what I had in mind for my birthday. I needed something simple.

When Olivia returned she was zipped tightly into the dress.

“Do you love it? I love it!” She spun in a small circle. The color flattered her light skin and matched surprisingly well with her hair. Around the bust were rows of diamonds that stopped just above the waist, where a big pink ribbon held her in. It fell out around her hips and stopped at the bottom of her thighs where it exposed just a hint of her knees.

“I do love it.” I smiled at her. Though it seemed far too much for the event in my own opinion, I could see clearly how in love with it she was.

“The girl says there's a pair of pink pumps in back that will match it perfectly, too!”

“Well, that was easy.” I replied. “One dress down.”

“And one dress to go! Did you see anything you like?” She asked. An underlying hint of hopeful tugged against her question.

Part of me wanted to lie and make her day, but the truth was, these dresses just weren't my style. Though I did appreciate a pretty dress, Olivia and I had always just had two very different ideas of pretty. Where her's was bright and flashy, mine was simple and sleek.

Then I saw it. There wasn't any bright light from heaven shinning down on it nor did I recall hearing a choir of angels singing as my eyes rolled across it. But that didn't make it any less perfect. Just a few racks away from Olivia was a nude colored chiffon dress, it was strapless with no rhinestones or ribbons. There weren't any buttons, or zippers, or beads on it, just a few pieces of sheer fabric that clung together around the top then fell at an angle near the bottom.

Olivia turned around to follow my gaze while walking over towards the dress and grabbing the tag.

“It's called a mullet cut dress, according to the tag, because it's longer in the back than it is in the front.” She pulled it from the rack eyeing it accordingly. “I mean, its kinda boring looking, but I'm pretty sure you could pull it off. Its a good price and your size, basically, this is fate.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed it from her.

“Okay, go put your clothes back on, lets get out of here.” I said heading towards the counter.

“You're not even gonna try it on?” She hollered to the back of me.

“Nope. If fate wants me to have it, then fate will see to it that I also look decent in it.”

By the time we'd left the store Olivia had purchased the dress, matching heels, an obnoxious faox diamond ring to pair with a gaudy bracelet, a bottle of pink nail polish and some dangle earrings. I was forced into buying a pair of gold strappy heels to match the dress, but that was the extent of my shopping trip.

“I can't believe you bought so much stuff,” I pointed to all three of her bags as we walked through the mall, “it's only a birthday party.”

We rounded the last corner that would take us to the front doors of the building.

“I know, my mom is gonna kill--” She stopped suddenly jerking my arm to a halt. “Look who it is.”

Just beyond the doors, leaning against the front pillar of the mall a familiar figure exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke into evening the air. It took me a moment before realizing that the Creepy-guy-from-English, who hadn't bothered coming to class the rest of the week, was standing outside.

“Lets invite him to your party!” Olivia said, with another jerk of my arm in the direction of the front doors, nearly sending my shopping bag to the ground.

“Lets not!” I protested pulling against her grasp, but failing to break free.

She trugged through the doors and in his direction just as his eyes met mine. My heart pounded rapidly, nearly skipping its beating pattern. Olivia reached her other hand out to him.

“Hi, Adam, I'm Olivia, we have first period History together.” She smiled and shook his hand slowly.

“Abel.” He replied, his smokey eyes piercing into me.

I fidgeted nervously beside her avoiding looking back at him at all costs.

“So sorry, Abel.” Olivia stepped in front of him, breaking his intense eye contact with the top of my head. “This is is my friend Casey, I think you guys have a class together too. Any who, tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday party and we wanted to know if you were interested in coming? ”

Please say no, please say no, please say no.

“Sure.” He answered casually, “Where at?”

“Her house is the big scary one on top of Lone Peek, just at the edge of town, you can't miss it. Party starts at nine.” She smiled her best flirty smile then jerked my wrist one last time in the direction of the parking lot.

She waited until we were a good distance away from him before turning to me.

“What's your problem?” She half-whispered. “I've never seen you so nervous in my life!”

“I don't have a problem, thank you very much, I just don't think we should go around inviting perfect strangers to my house!”

“Ah, so you admit it, you think he's perfect.” She winked.

“I hate you.” I said, as I climbed into my car.

“Love you too.” She shouted before climbing in her own car parked next to mine and rolled the passenger window down. “By the way, I told my mom I was spending the weekend at your place, so I'll meet you there.”

“Fine, but I still hate you.” Then slammed my car door.

CHAPTER 3.
Rain beat angrily against my face as I stood on the edge of a cliff that over looked the dark ocean. Gloom veiled the night as heavy clouds hung thick in the air and my wet hair wrapped around me. I shook uncontrollably all over. Suddenly, behind me a figure emerged from the trees draped in a cloak and black boots. My heart struck against my ribs as if trying to free itself from the fear that raced through me. It was him. The same man from before, the same horrible person who killed that poor man in the road. I opened my mouth to scream but there was no sound. He gained speed approaching faster and with each step my stomach flipped in it's place. Within seconds he was right there behind me with arms stretched out towards me. I let one more beat pass before I plunged forward sending myself over the side of the cliff. I looked back once more as the figure disappeared in the distance. The freezing air rushed around me as my body gained speed rapidly, falling faster and faster towards the ocean waves until-- BAM-- I woke up.

I flung the sheets off of myself and nearly pounced out of my bed. My hands still shook as I steadied my balance against my knees. Still wobbly and somewhat out of breath, I walked quickly into my bathroom and flicked the cold sink water on. I bent down and submerged my entire face under the faucet. The water hit like ice and pulled me out of my still-half-asleep groggines. I flicked the water off and reached for a towel to dry my face off. Lowering the towel and finally catching my breath, I saw a sticky note stuck to the mirror written in Olivia's writing:

Morning, birthday girl! Come downstairs.

Lovely. I'd been awake for less than three minutes and the birthday festivities had already begun. I let a few more moments pass before deciding to shake the dream. Whatever the reason behind the bizarre realness these dreams took on, I was awake now, and today was after all, my eighteenth birthday.

I was greeted by stack of pancakes topped with whip cream and a candle and music blaring.

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Olivia's chipper voice was almost too much for me to handle this early.

“Morning.” I faked my best 'happy voice'.

“I hope you're ready for a fun filled day!” She grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh, boy.” I shoved my first bite of pancake in my mouth. “I just can't wait.”

“How dare you act unexcited after all the work I just went through to make those pancakes.” She glanced to the stack of 'duds' behind her on the counter.

“I am excited, promise.” I said, “I'm just sleepy, sorry. I've been having these weird dreams--” Before I could finish, her phone rang.

“Hello? Yes we do. Yes, we can. Perfect, thank you so much.” As quick as she had answered, she hung up. “That was our hair appointments.” She said.

“Our what?!”

“Casey, it's your eighteenth birthday, need I remind you how monumental this occasion will be, not to mention, how many pictures will be posted online?” I stared back at her in awe. “Exactly. Now, we are getting our nails done at two and hair done at four, I have to pick up the cake before six and then we are meeting Megan and Danielle back here to get ready. You think you can hang?”

I finished my last bite of pancakes and nodded in compliance. I'd be a fool to argue.

. . .

Our day of primping, brought to you by Olivia Lewis, ended as she had hoped, just after seven. We arrived back at my house with nails and hair done and my cake in hand just as the car with Megan and Danielle in it pulled up the front driveway. They parked and hoped out. Danielle, whom never even been up the driveway to my house stared up at it in amazement.

“Kinda freaky, huh?” Olivia joked.

“Its awesome and scary at the same time.” Danielle said, still taking it in. “So its just you and your dad here?”

“And the housekeeper.” I added.

Once in, and after the twenty-minute-tour that Megan begged for, we were finally all in my room getting ready, when my phone rang. It was my dad.

I rushed out of my room where Olivia had insisted upon blaring more music, and down the hall to my dads room, shutting the door behind me.

“Hey, dad!” I said, trying to sound less out of breath than I actually was.

“Hey, Lady. Happy birthday.” I could hear his smile over the phone.

“Thanks. So how's the trip?” I asked, trying not to focus on what day it was, and what festivities it would hold.

“Beautiful, you would love New Jersey.” Though something in me knew I wouldn't. “It's pretty rainy here though. The deal should be closed after the meeting on Monday and I'm sure I'll be flying home that night. I can't wait to see you.”

“Me too, dad.” I smiled.

“So, what's on the birthday agenda for my eighteen-year-old?” The question I was dreading.

To be honest, or not to be honest? That was the question.

“Well... um... I think I'm gonna do dinner then have a few friends over for cake and presents after, if you don't mind?” It was kind of the truth, right? “I'm sure Barb mentioned that she was going to be out of town for the weekend to you.”

“She did, yeah. I was kinda surprised to hear that she had a boyfriend.”

“You and me both.” We laughed.

“Well, I only have a short break, I just wanted to make sure you were having a good day so far.”

“Thanks, dad, I am.” I said in return.

“Oh, and Case?” He paused.

“Yeah?”

“You kids be safe tonight, okay?” Even through the phone I could hear the hint of worry in his voice and could picture his brows pulling together with concern.

“We will dad, promise.”

“Have a good birthday.” A smile lifted in his voice once more.

“Love you, dad.” And the line clicked.

I was in the clear. He didn't care that I was having a party. I was trustworthy for a reason and I'd planned on keeping it that way, I reminded myself. As I strolled back to my room I thought only for a moment longer about missing my dad. An empty house was all I'd ever known and still, from time to time, I'd wished for something more normal. A big family like Olivia's all crammed into a normal sized house. A mom and dad who were both well and always around. As my mind wandered slowly in that direction, I brought it back to reality. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't love my life and the flashy things that came along with all my dad's hard work. But sometimes, and only sometimes, I wish I had someone around all the time, who'd loved me as much as my mom had.

* * *

The door bell rang at nine, then again at nine-thirty, and by ten-o'clock the entire downstairs of my house was nearly all the way full of kids from my high school. So, I decided it was a proper time for me to release myself from my room. Olivia was hell bent on making this party like one from the movies. She'd made certain to not over-decorate the kitchen and double checked that the lights in the pool were on before letting the first group of people in. But the one detail she had been most clear on, was that I was to be kept up in my room until the most opportune moment. My cue was the music.

It was right around ten when I heard one of Olivia's favorite songs start bumping against the floor of my bedroom. I finished my last game of angry birds and went to the mirror.

Thanks to Fate, the dress fit perfect. It was tight around the breast area and flowy every where else; it fell in pieces, just below my knees. The nude color had paired perfectly with the gold heels and I'd finished with some gold stud earrings. I'd let the hair lady do whatever she wanted to my hair, instructing that she keep it simple, so she'd curled in some waves then pinned one side behind my ear so that all of my hair swept to the opposite side of my neck-line. After adding some champagne-colored eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, peachy gloss and a spritz of perfume, I was ready to head down stairs.

“Shut! Up!” Olivia shouted as I scaled the staircase. “Ladies and gents, the birthday girl has arrived!”

The few people that could hear her over the music looked up, and I waved back awkwardly.

“Wow.” Conner met me at the bottom of the stairs. He was just a few inches taller than I and dressed in a light blue button-up. He ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously as I stepped down to him. “You look so.... great.”

I smiled up to him. “Thanks, Conner. You don't look half bad yourself.”

Olivia met us with two wine glasses filled with something pale and sparkling. I spied curiously at the unfamiliar drink then up at her with one brow raised in suspicion.

“Oh, chill!” She said, shoving the glasses on our hands. “Its called Mosacto. White wine wont ruin your life. Now, drink up, birthday girl.”

I looked back to Conner who was just as hesitant as I, knowing him and I were probably the last of our friends who'd never drank, and he shrugged.

“In spirit of the occasion,” He lifted the drink up in an outward motion that I recognized as 'Cheers' and smiled, “Happy birthday, pretty girl.”

I raised my glass to him and a tiny 'clink' noise sounded before we tipped the rims to our lips and chugged.

Cheers to eighteen.

By midnight we'd shared the rest of the bottle as well as a few dances in the living room where Olivia had set up large speakers. In the dinning room, there was a pile of gifts and cards that strung across the long marble table and the kitchen was filled with fruit trays and buckets with assorted drinks.

“This place is trashed.” I yelled, probably too loud to Olivia.

“So am I.” She responded, holding her weight against the island counter's edge.

I was holding balance against Conner's arm when my eye caught notice of a familiar person walking from the side entrance to the living room and towards the front door. Quickly, I pushed myself away from Conner, and towards the hall.

“I'll be right back.” I mumbled.

My legs felt more heavy now than they'd felt all night as I tried to make them move forwards.

“Hey!” I yelled as I came through the front entrance of my house and to the front porch.

By the time I'd made it down the stairs he was already standing at the edge of my driveway, and he turned around. Abel. His eyes met mine, and for the first time since the first day I'd seen him, my heart didn't race with fear. Blame the alcohol or the dark night wrapped around us, but for the first time, my heart stood still. I lowered my lashes and grabbed onto the side of my house for support. The cool night moved up my spine as I stood in silence. As he advanced slowly back in my direction my eyes caught glimpse of something they'd never noticed before: a half-sleeve tattoo shown bright colors even in the dark, and poked out at the bottom of his short-length black shirt.

“Yes?” He spoke and my heart fumbled.

What was I suppose to respond with? I didn't really even know why I'd taken off after him in the first place.

“Um...” I searched my hazy brain for the right words to speak, but nothing else would come out.

“Nice place.” He said, looking up behind me at it.

“I, uh—thanks.” I uttered back.

“You look nice too.” His mouth uttered one thing but his eyes said another as they drifted from my face down the rest of my body.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he turned back for the driveway and sauntered down the side of the lawn. Just at the edge of the tree-line he lifted his leg over a black Harley and it roared to life. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before he grumbled the bike down the long driveway and disappeared into the night.

Strange. I wondered why he'd even bothered coming. But I decided it would be easier for the time being, to brush it off. My attention span at this particular moment wasn't clear enough to think any further on his peculiar motives. And so I wouldn't. None the less, I still found his attendance at all to be just that, strange.

“Who was that?” A voice asked from behind me, breaking my concentration.

I turned to find Danielle and Olivia standing behind me.

“I think it was Abel...” I answered hesitantly.

“What? Really?!” Olivia asked. “He probably left because he couldn't find me!'

Danielle, also visibly tipsy, began to giggle at her. Suddenly, Olivia extended her reach out holding tiny glasses filled with clear liquid in her grasps.

“This one is gonna sting a little.” She smiled almost wickedly. “It's vodka.”

“My stomach already hurts.” I moaned.

“I'll do it with you, it's not that bad. Then we can go swim. Cheers?” She lifted her own tiny glass.

My head buzzed and my stomach gurguled, and somewhere inside of my a voice whispered for me to stop. But I didn't. I tipped the shot up and cringed tightly as the vodka spilled through me like acid. I coughed loudly and Olivia laughed.

“Good job, Case. You're officially an adult!”

CHAPTER 4.

 Warm ocean waves rolled merrily over the rocky shore line in the sun light. A soft breeze blew across the face of the sea lifting a salty mist all the way up the bank and through the sheer curtains that hung in front of my bedroom window. Sunshine twisted around the corners of my bed and folded gently over the side of my pillow, warming my cheek. Slowly, I attempted to open my eyes. Tiny, invisible hundred-pound weights quickly pulled them back to their place. So I tried my arms. Nothing. They too, were held down by an invisible force that surged pain in the place of movement through my whole body. Holy hangover, Batman.

Fuzzy images of the previous night danced through my mind as I pulled myself in an upward position with all of my might. My head throbbed as I lifted my legs slowly upward, and in the direction of the bathroom. Must drink water. I half-opened my eyes in search for my bathroom cup and reached slowly for my toothbrush. How on Earth did people do this regularly? I couldn't imagine that the cast of Jersey Shore could enjoy this bag-of-poop feeling enough to want to feel it over and over. Cold water splashed down my throat as I finished the whole cup and returned it back to the side of my sink as well as my toothbrush. Then I glimpsed in the mirror. Lovely, I looked like a walking poster-child for a Sobriety add. I pulled my hair up into a high-bun as I strolled out of my room and wondered how I'd ended up in pajamas.

When I reached the kitchen I stopped in surprise: it was spotless. No mess of cans or cups, no fruit trays spilled on their sides or even in site, and not one drop of poured out drink stained the floor. I walked on, finding the same thing in the dinning room and living room and grand hall as well as the front porch and yard. But as I stood at the front window, my eyes recognized a blue Dodge Neon parked out front and just to the side of the shop. A whirl of nausea spun through me and I turned quickly for the back hall. My feet drug quickly across the floor as I shoved myself through the kitchen and out the back door, towards the guesthouse, just as Barb stepped out.

“I am so sorry!” I nearly cried.

A smile stretched across her face.

“To be honest, I expected worse.” She said, then continued right on by me and back into the kitchen. I followed automatically.

“You—what?”

“You didn't really think that I left town with a boyfriend, did you?” She spun around to face me, and I stood, still stunned. “Oh, Heavens, you did!”

If I could have drawn out the scenario in my head of how this could have gone, Barbra laughing about it would have been the very last thing I could have pictured. Though she had a point, I should have seen straight through that 'boyfriend' charade.

“You knew?” I dared ask.

“Casey, you turned eighteen and your farther owns the largest house in the city, if you weren't planning a get-together of sorts, I would have probably been shocked. Though I must say, you put on quite the show, I mean, for goodness sake, there were underwear floating in the pool. I hope it's safe to say they weren't yours?”

“No.” I answered back slowly hoping its was an accurate response. I adjusted my position, I could feel my own cling tightly to my skin. Nope, definitely not mine.

“Good.” She said, “I just wish you would have warned me. You don't have to be so afraid to tell me things you know? I know, as well as your father, that you're a responsible young lady, and now I wont hope that you're out celebrating every event, I do hope you enjoyed your birthday safely.”

“I did.” I answered, remembering the last event that was still rather early in the night. Suddenly it occurred to me that not only was my house clean, it was empty. “Have you seen Olivia?”

“She left just after two this afternoon, while you were still asleep.”

“After two?! What time is it?!” I exclaimed turning to the grandfather clock in the dinning room area to find that it was just after four thirty. “Oh, god.”

“Well, now don't go blaming him for this.” She brought me a large glass of water and some Tylenol. “Here, take these and go rest. You have the whole day to sleep and I suggest you take it. I'll have dinner up in a bit.”

I couldn't be more thankful to have Barbra any more than I was right now. I loved her and I loved how great she was. I smiled and nodded then, with absolutely no argument, followed her directions.

The rest of my Sunday was spent in my bed, with not one word of complaint.

. . .

By the time I'd made it to my locker Monday morning, there was only five minutes before first period. As I shuffled quickly in the direction of the classroom, I checked my phone one last time, still no text from Olivia. Not that I was worried, she'd mentioned last night over Instant Messaging that she would be out of commission for at least two days after my party, though I was still aching to hear details.

I planted myself comfortably in my seat just as the bell chimed and the last of the classed filed in through the door, bringing with them, a familiar boy.

A smile hinted at the edge of his lips as his eyes connected with mine, it was less inviting than most smiles I'd seen before. A haunting smile that both dazzled and frightened all at once. As he set his things down and slid into his seat behind me, I thought maybe I would take this opportunity to ask him why he was ever at my party this weekend. I opened my mouth to talk, just as an irritated Mr. Miller began.

“So, due to a lack of assignments being finished by a class of pupils that I intend to ready for a long college journey in their coming years, we will spend this Monday morning in complete silence. Not one peep. Every single one of you will finish all of your missing work and those very few of you with all of your work completed, please open to chapter eighteen and read for the duration of the period. Any questions?” He paused briefly but with not enough time for a real response, “Good then, begin.”

I let that be a sign that I didn't need to ask Abel anything. Why him or any other person came to my party were of little concern to me. Could I deny that when I was in his presence I felt something more compelling and strange than anyone I'd ever met? No. Did that annoy me? Yes. But letting it bother seemed childish, and childish I was not.

By the time lunch came I'd finally received a text from Olivia letting me know that she was alive and well enough to walk to and from her bathroom, but that was it. I crossed down the main hall and by the first row of lunch tables when suddenly I heard someone speak. I turned quickly around to find that no one was trying to get my attention, then it happened again.

“Casey,” It whispered and I was jolted quickly in the other direction. Where had I heard that voice before? It was a whisper but clear enough to be understood. The shower. That night in the shower last week I'd heard a clear voice whisper my name, and now that same voice spoke again. The more peculiar part? Even in this crowded room of people, I knew that my name wasn't whispered out loud for every one to hear, but rather said somewhere in my mind, as if my own thoughts were speaking my name.

An icy feeling prickled my arm.

I turned again just as I noticed Abel, feet away, standing against the back wall. The same twisted smile filled his lips and the hairs on the back of my neck raised from their place. The voice I heard was his.

Annoyed, I trudged forward.

“Listen, I don't know who you think you are but--”

“Hey, Casey.” A familiar voice spun me back around and I was greeted by Conner.

“Oh--hey.” Instantly I remembered drunkenly using Conner as a leaning post for most of the night on Saturday, and strongly regretted possibly giving him the wrong impression.

“How are you doing?” He asked casually, ignoring the conversation he'd just interrupted.

“I'm fine, could you just give me a minute?” And just as I began to turn away, he blurted:

“Casey, will you go to prom with me?”

“What?!” I asked, stunned and even more annoyed that he was choosing right now as his most opportune proposal time.

“I know its next week and this is really last minute but I--”

“Conner, I can't.” I interrupted, still wishing this conversation could have taken place in front of any other person on Earth then Abel.

“You can't?” He asked, more surprised by my answer than he should have been. “Why not?”

“Because--” I searched my mind for the best, believable excuse I could think of just as Abel stepped forward.

“Because she's going with me.” Abel said, earning himself the most unexpected-save of the century award.

“She is? How ironic.” Conner responded, puffing his chest just ever so slightly.

“Ironic?” Abel asked coolly, slipping his arm over my shoulder as if I were a prized to be claimed.

“I guess I just thought that last week when she told us how repulsive she found you, that by chance, she meant it.” Irritation flickered in him.

A spark of defiance danced in Abel's vision, it was playful mixed with something else that I couldn't quite pin-point at the moment. Greed? I couldn't be too sure, so I shrugged his arm off of my shoulder and pushed Conner gently in the other direction.

“Listen, we'll talk later, okay Conner? I just need a moment.” He paused for one last glare at Abel before walking away and I spun back around.

“You're welcome.” He said, his cryptic eyes laying into me like I'd actually spoken the words 'thank you'.

“For what? Now my friend is going to be heartbroken.” I whisper-yelled, avoiding the attention of any passer-by's.

“You'd rather go with him?”

“I'd rather not go at all!”

“Oh, you think I actually wanted to take you to the dance?” A terrifying laugh grumbled out of his mouth and his head cocked back against the wall. “Please. I was just helping you out of an uncomfortable situation.” And with that he pushed himself away from the wall and began to casually stroll away.

“Liar.” I whispered, and he stopped in his tracks.

There was a few beats of nothingness as he stood still facing the other direction. His long hair was kept loosely behind his neck in a tie and fell just off the top of his leather jacket. As I followed the stitch line down his lean arms to his hands, I watched his clenched fist slowly relax.

“Excuse me?” He asked quietly.

“I saw that weird look you had when you told him I was going to the prom with you. You want to take me to the prom.”


My heart raced with fear as he turned around slowly and I partially regretted ever opening my mouth. Why couldn't I have just let it be? That same fire danced in his dark eyes and a vicious smile returned. He tilted his head just slightly forward and narrowed his eyes into me.

“No—I want to be that jacket around you.”

He what?


Nervously, I tugged at the bottom of my hoodie. His eyes looked down at my hand then traced upward until they met mine again.

“Who are you?” I asked, deciding it would be safer to ignore his previous statement.

“Silly, question Casey, you know my name.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Do I?” His question mocked me.

I let the silence linger for a long moment. I knew he'd spoken into my mind just moments before Conner had interrupted, and yet instead of scaring me, like I'm sure he'd intended, it only reminded me of being a child, and rather, it intrigued me. There was something in his wicked smile that pulled an unknown fear out of me. He was bad news and I knew it. But aside from those things was a tiny strike of curiosity. I'd never really paid attention to intuition before, but then again, it had never been quite so in-my-face before I'd met Abel.

“Fine then, you win.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and straightened myself. Two could play this game.

I brushed past him and walked quickly through the lobby until I met the far staircase towards the west wing, I knew I was far enough away that I could safely look back, and so I did. There was no sign of him anywhere. I huffed and started up the stairs. From the first day we'd met when he brought my card to me after class and had magically known my name, I thought maybe I was reading too far into things. But now I was certain of it, he was a repulsive creep.

I rounded the top of the stairs, still angry, closely studying my foot pattern and I thought deeply about the previous events when suddenly I smashed hard against someone's back, sending all of my things flying to the ground.

Debbie Clark towered over me as I crashed hard against the tile floor behind her.

“Watch where you're going, idiot!” She shouted while bending over to pick up a few pieces of paper.

“Sorry.” I mumbled and reached out for a book just as she kicked it across the hall.

This day couldn't get worse if I asked it to.

“Listen,” I said, standing back up as a small group of barbie robots crowded behind her. “It was an accident, I said I was sorry.”

“Thanks, but you're still an idiot.” She turned to leave and the group of mindless followers, as anticipated, did the same.

“Yeah, well you're a bitch.” I wouldn't think twice about my harsh statement and began to walk in the other direction.

“What did you just say?” She stopped a few paces away, and turned slowly back around in a motion that reminded me of a fancy car on display in a show room.

“I'm not in the mood to repeat myself today, Debbie, but I'm sure you heard me right. Get off your high horse.” I kept walking.

“Just because your dad makes all that money doesn't mean people haven't forgotten that he killed your mom.” Her words spat like hot venom from her mouth and injected into my veins, holding me in place, I couldn't even turn around to face her.

She was that low. I'd bumped into her on accident and suddenly she felt compelled to bring up a rumor that had not been talked about since grade school, when her parents decided that she couldn't come play at my house anymore.

“Yes, that's very relevant to this situation.” I whispered just loud enough to be heard.

“You're right, I suppose your mom dying like that has nothing to do with today.” She huffed, “But I think its safe to say you're just as idiotic as your lunatic father. So how about you do us all a favor, rich girl, and get off of your high horse.”

And that was all that it took.

In an instant I was turned away from her, ready to leave the situation, and in the next I was flying through the air in her direction. How very wrong she was to think I'd let her talk about my father that way. I pounced through the air landing directly on top of her. With arms flailing I wailed angrily against her again and again for what seemed like a long five minutes before two sets of hands, wrapped tightly around my arms, pulled me off. My feet dragged in front of me across the ground as I was carried to the far wall.


“She's a psycho!” Debbie cried as Mr. Miller helped her to her feet. Blood ran from her lip and the side of her head as she frantically tried to put her mess of hair back in order.

He looked back at me with eyes that said “I thought you were better than this,” and then back to Debbie.

By hands still shook with furry and a queazy feeling filled my head. I couldn't believe my own actions and yet, I wasn't one bit ashamed of myself. No one gets to parade around saying things like that and get away with it, but especially not her.

“Will someone please escort Miss Clark to the nurse' office? I will take care of Casey.” He handed Debbie back to the group of clones and she hobbled down the hall in the opposite direction as if she'd just had her legs broken as well. I wish. “Back to class everyone, or you'll all have detention.”

The hall cleared and Mr. Miller met me.

“That's grounds for expulsion Miss Rowan, I hope that was worth it for you.” His tisk-tisk voice was enough to almost make me feel bad. Almost.


“I'm sorry, Mr. Miller.” I tried to keep my thoughts inside, “But my dad is not a murderer.” I failed.

“What?!” He hadn't lived in our small town long enough to have heard the rumors from years ago.

“Nothing.” I let my head fall.


There was a beat of silence.

“Casey, I'm not sure what the proper protocol here is, but I know you're much better than your current actions.” He sighed. “To keep my own job, I'm going to have to report this to the principal's office, however, I'll make certain I tell them that I'm already punishing you myself.” I looked up at him curiously, “I trust you know that this sort of thing cannot happen ever again.” I nodded in compliance. “I'll see you tomorrow one hour before school starts, you can serve detention in my class to make up for this, I will figure out a punishment to suffice, but you wont be suspended. Now, go home.”


“Really?” I wasn't necessarily sure that I was prepared to beat Debbie Clark up and get away with it all in the same day.

“Don't give me time to change my mind.” He answered firmly.

“Thanks, Mr. Miller.” I nodded. I grabbed my bag off the floor and walked quickly away.

Once out the front doors I sprinted to my car to ensure I made a clean get-away. When I was far enough away from the school and over halfway home, I dialed Olivia.

“Why are you calling me during third period?” She answered.

“I just punched Debbie Clark. In the face. Repeatedly.” I said, still fuming.

“YOU WHAT?!” Her voice screeched through the phone.

“I'll tell you more later, Mr. Miller sent me home for the rest of the day, I'm not even going to be suspended for it!”


“How is this happening on the one day I'm not at school? Please tell me you had someone near by with a video camera taping the whole event.” There was almost too much excitement in her question.

As I rounded the corner to my driveway I noticed Barb's car out front. She almost never was at my house before two on Mondays. Without any doubt I was certain that she would be furious if she found out why I was home early.

“Listen, I gotta go right now, I just got home and Barb's car is here, I've gotta come up with a good lie as to why I'm home early.” I said, already trying to construct a believable fake story.

“Just tell her it was a school in-service day, that's what I told my mom.” She laughed.

“Brilliant. I'll call you later. Bye.” I clicked my phone off and shoved it in my back pocket as I hopped out of my car.

I was just to the top of the porch when a dark shadow slid over me. A feeling of dread crept through my back as my eyes met with my front door; It was open. Cracked ever so slightly the door sat unlatched and stared back at me. Something wasn't right, I could feel it. In most cases, a front door being opened meant little to nothing, but somewhere in the back of my head echoed a voice that told me to go back to my car and call nine-one-one immediately. Quite obviously, I couldn't.

Through the space between the door and frame I slipped inside the front corridor. Shadows from the sun outside were the only light into the dim hallway as I stepped, slowly forward, and towards the kitchen, the peeped in. Empty. So I moved on. The breakfast nook was clear and the through the big bay window the back yard appeared untouched as well, so I made my way through the big dinning room and to the connecting arch in the living room. There on the far couch, lay Barbra, snoring. All of my tense muscles, all of my worry and the dark shadow melted away. Calmly, I approached.

“Barb?” My voice jolted her awake, startling both of us.

“What are you doing home?!” She asked in a sleepy whirl.

“Half-day at school. What are you doing here?”

“I got to this part of town earlier than expected, so I came here, I guess I got tired and dozed off. A half-day of school on a Monday seems so silly.” She sat up and adjusted herself on the couch.

“Yeah, well, schools do weird stuff all the time.” I decided that fleeting the scene would be in my best interest, so I began towards the stairs. “You left the front door open, by the way.” I called before hitting the hallway.

When I knew I was in the clear, I booked it for my room and shut the door quickly behind me. I was starting to become too good at this whole lying thing and it wasn't doing much for my conscience. As I moved forward down the tiny entrance hall to my room, I began to notice a rather large mess of clothes strung out along the floor. When I entered the threshold, it was clear that something—or rather, someone had made quite a disaster in my room. Every drawer to my dresser was opened and appeared to have been gone through, the cushions to the chairs by the bay window were on the floor as well as all the pillows on my bed. The bathroom was the same angry mess with drawers opened and clothes thrown about. Without guessing too hard it was as though someone had been looking for something in my room, and had failed. Nothing at all seemed to have been missing. Nervously I went to the window to check the lock, it was shut tight and latched. I paced back towards the door, knowing that I should tell Barbra immediately, when I halted in my tracks. The felling, the same gut feeling I'd had when I had entered the front door came back to me and I froze in my place. For the second time today my intuition had suspected something, and was pretty spot-on. I decided I wouldn't tell Barbra, because for whatever the reason be, that same intuition instructed me not to.

After deciding to ignore the eerie feeling pulsing inside of me, I put my room back in order making certain nothing had been taken. Everything was here and accounted for. Which irritated me. What on Earth could my room have had in it that anyone would want, that I wouldn't know about? I thought back to anything recent that could have made it's way into my room without me knowing it, and that's when I remembered my birthday party. After I'd seen Abel out front that night and drank that tiny shot of vodka, the rest of the night went blank. Any number of things could have happened in this room, or entire house for that matter, that I would have been completely oblivious to. How many hours had passed between being out front and waking up in my bed the next day? I decided if anyone would know more information than I, it was Liv. So, with pajamas on and comfortably nestled in my bed, I called her.

“Details, pronto.” She answered.


“Whatever happened to the good old fashioned hello?”

“I've been waiting all night for you to call me back, I want to know everything that happened today!” She was still as excited as before.


“Me first,” I began, “After that shot of Vodka, the night of my birthday, my brain goes blank, I would like to hear a detailed description of what you remember.”

“Easy. We went back inside, where you proceeded to speak to everyone in Spanish, including Conner, whom you kept telling had a nice butt over and over. We drank more. Then you opened your presents that listed of three tops, some picture frames, perfume, a key chain and a butt-load of gift cards, when you remembered your dad had given you a birthday card. So you, Conner and Megan went up to your room to look for it but apparently you got sick and went to bed. After that I asked everyone who could drive, to head home. Next morning I took Danielle home and well, now its Monday night.”

I thought on the details for a moment. “Did I ever find that card?”


“As a matter of fact, you didn't which is why you went to sleep, I guess.”

“Hmm, okay...” Nothing really jumped out at me, in fact, it only made less sense now. Why anyone would ransack my room for a silly birthday card didn't really add up. Even so, if by some miraculous chance my dad's birthday card had any importance, it had already been missing before today. I sat and thought a moment in silence. Perhaps this was yet another situation that I was, yet again, over-thinking.

“Um hello?” Olivia chimed in. “The fight? Remember, you were going to tell your best friend about when you so victoriously punched your arch nemesis in the face, and might at add that it was said to have been repeatedly?”

“Oh, uh, yeah--” I paused, recalling the events, “I bumped into her on accident in the hall and she called me an idiot and my dad a murderer. So I went nuts on her face.”

“Wow, way to bring up old news, that whore.” She said.

“Old news?! How about fictitious new? Out of no where she brings up something that never happened and you're calling it old news?” As my best friend, she should have known better.

“Chill. You know I don't agree with her at all, I just meant that she's ridiculous for calling you out on your only dirt. No, I said that wrong too, its not your dirt, just that pulling up the past wont--”

“I get it, Liv.” Slightly annoyed, I cut her off. “Whatever the excuse, I got to punch her and I feel a little warmer inside for having done so. But now I have to be to school an hour early for detention in the morning, so, I'm gonna hit the hay.”

“Yeah, I'm tired too. Congrats on having a successful eighteenth birthday party and double kudos for slapping that Paris Hilton wanna-be around a little. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Night.” And I hung up.

If I went back in my mind to first grade when Debbie and I had been the best of friends, I'd drive myself nuts. I didn't need to recap on the night my mom died, nor did I need to jog my memory on the months that followed when the police dug deep into my mom's case finding no leads as to whom it could have been, so they released my dad from custody and ruled it a suicide. I would be content on leaving that matter alone. A tingle inside of me wondered though, about the time I'd over heard my dad on the phone saying that he knew it wasn't a suicide, if maybe I should read more into it. And in that same thought I remembered all the trouble that 'reading into things' had got me into today and decided it smarter to brush this off too. I wouldn't go back in time to think about past, and the things that didn't add up in present day would have to wait till later. I was too tired for much more.

CHAPTER 5.
 Five A.M. Rolled in earlier than I would have liked. Still groggy and half-asleep I pulled myself out of a dream, remembering only slightly, an image of someone telling me to leave something. I decided that today I would dress in reflection of my mood. So I went to my closet and did so accordingly. With black skinny jeans and a gray tank on, I added my leather jacket and stepped into some short laced combat boots. I attended my hair with some hairspray letting the few curls still left in my hair from bed settle gently down my back. Gray eyeshadow and thick mascara completed the ensemble and I was out the door.  

Probably the only plus to arriving this early to school was the gigantic parking lot of that sat empty and posed as free game. I parked two spots away from the teacher reserved area and made my way inside. A few students, whom I assumed were not here early by choice, floated around aimlessly in the lobby and staff made their way to their classrooms. I caught up with Mr. Miller just as he hit the top of the stairs.

“Good morning, Casey.” He said, while unlocking the door to his class. “Thank you for being here on time.”

“Sure thing, sorry again about yesterday.” I said, following behind him.

“I'm not the person you should be apologizing to.” He set his things on his front desk and turned around just slightly, and I felt someone else enter the room, so I turned. “Ah, yes, right on time. Casey, I'm sure you've met Abel before?”

It was too early for this crap.

“Once or twice.” I groaned.

“Well, he is one of the many not doing so well in this class, however, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt in this situation being that he arrived very late in the term.”

Abel stood across the room from us, our eyes met for one, two, three seconds and I pulled away, not before catching sight of a familiar grin that made me feel more uncomfortable than I would prefer.

“Go on.” I tried to bit back the bitter underlying tone.

“Your punishment will be to help him catch up on his assignments. I want all of his work turned in by the end of the week, or you'll both paying for it.”

“Fair enough.” Abel snuffed.

“Fair? How does his lack of responsibility have so much effect on my own fate?” I moaned.

“Its that or exspultion, you choose your fate.” Mr. Miller went to the inside of his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper. “Here is a list of his missing assignments, please see to it that he's caught up through March.”

Suddenly, for the first time since it had happened, I regretted punching Debbie Clark.

I shoved past him through the door and felt him follow close behind, when we were a safe enough distance away from Mr. Miller's class I turned back abruptly.

“I don't want this any more than you, so listen, if you want me to do the work for you, that's fine, but I will be damned if you ruin this for me.”

“Touchy, touchy.”

“Touchy? Please. Mr. Miller stuck his neck out for me, so I plan to thank him for it, I've worked hard for my GPA to have some creep slack off and throw it away.” I shoved the piece of paper into his hands. “Here, just do me a favor and try.” I turned and began to storm off.

“I changed my mind.” He called from behind me, and I turned back slightly.

“About?”

“I do want to go to the Prom with you.” He smiled a taunting smile.

“Yeah? Well I don't want to go to Prom with you, but thanks anyways.” I began to walk away.

“Liar.” A whisper echoed clearly in my head and I turned around to face him, but he wasn't there anymore. When I faced the other direction he was standing no less than two paces ahead of me. I did a double take. He went from at least five feet behind me to about ten inches in front of me in less than half a second. My heart skipped a beat.

“How did you...?”

“I'll make you a proposition.” He whispered and I lifted a brow. “If you accompany me to the Prom, I will have all of these assignments done tomorrow.”

“Real funny.” I rolled my eyes. “Yesterday you laughed at the idea and now you're propositioning me? What's the catch?”

“Obviously, the catch is that you're my date to prom.”

I laughed. “ If it means you'll turn all that missing work in, consider it done.”

“Perfect, I'll pick you up at eight then?”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

I stared at him in curiosity and wondered where he intended to go with this. It would be a lie to humanity if I said I wouldn't mind showing up with such a good-looking date, unfortunately, I'd rather take a human with at least one more appealing quality than beautiful eyes and a nice butt.

He smiled again, this time, and for the very first time, it was almost a flirty smile, like something I'd said had pleased him, but I hadn't spoken.

“Fine.” I finally answered. “But those better be the best assignments you've ever turned in in your entire life.”

“You have my word, I'll see you Saturday then.” Then, in a mild mannered turned, he strolled away.

. . .

He stood by his word.

The next day in Mr. Miller's class bright and early, I arrived just missing Abel (according to Mr. Miller) of whom had turned in every assignment he'd been missing and had even opted to do a few extra credit papers. He thanked me for pushing Abel so hard. But Abel had also mentioned that he would see me on Saturday, little did I know, that meant he wouldn't be present the rest of the week. Not that I was complaining.

I waited as long as I could to keep that tiny piece of information from Olivia until Friday afternoon when I needed her help finding a prom dress.

“A prom dress? For what?” She nearly shouted in the middle of the mall.

“Um... I'm going?”

“Since when and with whom?! You know these events require dancing right?”

“Since Abel rudely propositioned me into trading classwork for a prom date.” We made our way up the escalator, and to the only shop in town that was popular for making vintage dresses.

“With Abel?! How do all of these things keep occurring without my knowledge?”

“I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to be upset...” I lied. I could care less about her jealousy for the time being.

“Upset? I feel like a proud parent! The hottest guy known to the state of Washington asked you to prom and I'm mad? Not at all! Besides, I can wait to marry him till after high school.” She embraced me in a short hug like I'd just announced to winning the lottery or something.

“Oh, okay.” I answered, slightly taken back by her response, as we entered a vintage dress shop.

“I'll have you know, that Josh asked me to Prom this morning at school.” She announced smugly. “And strictly because I will need some sort of arm candy, I accepted.”

“Well, good, I'm happy for you.” I answered.

“I'm rather impressed that Conner didn't beat Abel to the punch.” She laughed.

“No such luck.” I answered, deciding to keep the from Monday details filed away.

“Would you look at that bruise.” An unexpected octave change raised in Olivia's voice.

I looked up just as Debbie Clark walked out of the store. Over her shoulder she held a clear garment bag that covered a long white rhinestone covered dress, that reminded me more of a wedding than of prom.

“Please tell me you're not actually being allowed to go to prom.” She hissed.

“I'm allowed to do whatever I want, actually.” I snuffed in return.

“After that stupid little show you put on last Monday, I'm surprised they even let you back on school grounds.”

“Yeah, well when you actually go to school to learn, teachers tend to treat you with a bit more respect.”

She let out an annoyed sort of laugh and cocked her head to the side, “Later psycho.”

We watched her sashay away, her heels clicking a sticato beat, until she was down the escelator.

“I wish you would have broke her jaw.” Olivia mumbled still looking ahead.

“Not too sure Mr. Miller would have had my back on that one.”

“No, but I'm sure he would have saluted you. No one likes her. No one.”


We continued on into the store gathering hangers of possible dresses along the way. This store was full of things more my taste, so it came as no surprise to me that over an hour and at least twelve different styles of dresses later, I was still dress-less.

“Here, I think I've found you winner.” Olivia said from the outside of the fitting room as she handed over a jumble of black fabric.

It was chiffon and all black and came together in a tight bunch of sheer fabric around the bust. It gathered securely under my collar bone then fell softly over the rest of me, spilling in a pretty pile on the floor behind me.

“Well?” I asked, opening the curtain.

“Oh, my...” She held her index finger between her teeth provacitively, “You might actually one-up Abel in that thing.”

“Not necessarily my goal, but I'll take it.” I laughed, closing the curtain behind me.

. . .

 On my way home I text my dad for the third attempt this week. I knew from experience not to call or text too often while he was away. That if there were any sort of emergency, he would have his secretary, Claire, call Barb so that she could update me on his status. Since Brab hadn't given word about anything being wrong with my dad, I knew that everything must be fine. Still, a tiny tingle in my belly knew that a whole week of no response wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Later that night I sat in the kitchen with Barbra, painting my nails.

“Special occasion for such a dreary color?” She nodded to my bottle of black polish. She set down the dish she had been drying and leaned against the counter.

“Prom.” I gripped.

“Prom? Why haven't I heard any word of this? When is it?”

“Tomorrow.” I finished the last two fingers and replaced the cap to the polish and began a long breathy blowing motion along the tips of my fingers.

“Tomorrow? Do you have a dress? Who are you going with?” Her questions came flying at me in an almost annoying high pitched school-girl voice.

“ Just some guy from school,” I tried not to think to long about my date when I mentioned him, “I'm tutoring him in English and he asked if I'd go.”

“I'm half surprised.” She swooped her dish back up, “I thought you weren't into the idea of prom.”

“I'm not.”

She raised a brow, “Then why go?”

Her question echoed in my mind. Why go? Didn't prom seem like an awfully large exchange for a grade in English? Couldn't I have been smart enough to march into Mr. Miller and tell him about Abel's far-out bribe? Of course I could have, but out of instinct (a strange new attribute I'd recently been paying more attention too) I somehow had known better. For the sake of an A in English I agreed to take a guy that I knew not one thing about, to prom with me. After three previous years of protesting the whole event, in a matter of five minutes I let one stranger talk me into it. Trying to diagnose this strange occurrence would probably start by first admitting that somewhere in me, I was actually okay with the idea of going to prom with Abel. I shuddered at the thought of letting his looks over shadow his disturbing personality. I was better that. Well, at least, I thought I was.

“Because its my Senior year.” I lied, agreeing to keep my thoughts to myself.

“Fair enough. So, who's this mysterious guy?” She winked.

“His name is Abel...” Last name, what was his last name? “Just Abel.”

“I see, well I hope you and Just Abel have a lovely, safe time tomorrow night.” She finished putting the last of the dishes away then went to the back door. “I'm heading to bed now, I have a pretty busy day tomorrow and wont be back until Sunday afternoon, call if you need anything.”

“Thanks. Night, Barb.” She locked up and switched the porch light of the guest house off behind her.

I could sit here and think about how badly I didn't want to give in and attend the prom tomorrow night, or I could grit my teeth and get it over with. I was already a prom dress and nail polish deep, at this point, there was no turning back. As I headed to bed, I concluded my protest. I'd made a deal and he'd held up to his portion if it, therefore, I would do the same. No matter how uncomfortable I may have felt about the idea, I, Casey Rowan, was going to prom.

CHAPTER 6.
 Rain drops fell from the sky and dripped gently down my strands of wet hair. A muted silver cloud hung heavy overhead and the ocean sprayed against me as I stood just feet away from the shore line. In the distance I watched the wind whip angrily around my house as sand lifted into the air. My eyes narrowed, focusing on what at first looked like the same home I came home to every day, when it occurred to me that it was different, something wasn't the same. It hadn't been painted yet. It was still the same dusky gray as when I was younger and nearly blended in with the night sky. A haze fogged my vision for only a moment when suddenly I saw a figure scaling the side of my house. It was tall and built like a man, and one who'd scaled houses before. He jumped over the balcony wall that wrapped nearly all the way around the house. Before ducking into the window nearest my room, he looked back at the ocean. I froze in position. Could he see me? The answer I learned was that he couldn't when just as quickly as he'd looked back, he turned away again and disappeared in through the window. I wished that I could yell to my dad to make up and find the intruder but my throat was stale and wordless when I opened my mouth to yell. Suddenly, in a flash of brief light and wind I was standing inside of the house at the very end of the hallway. The house was dark and silent. Wind blew through the open hall window as I watched the man disappear into my bedroom. My blood went still from fear. Instinctively, I stepped forward, carrying myself silently down the hall. When I reached the frame of my door I hesitated before deciding to step through. The man was feet away hovering over my bed and that's when I saw her, it was me when I was probably five years old, sleeping in my bed. The figure stood over my tiny sleeping body with clenched fists and arms erect outward, and he began to plunge forward.

“NO!” I screamed, and suddenly I was awake. My eyes focused in the same bed I'd be staring at from an outsider's view only seconds before.

It was a dream.

I allowed my racing heart to slow itself , I lay motionless in my bed. What had I just dreamed? As the morning light stretched across my bedroom floor I examined the placements. My dream had depicted an attacker right where my zebra rug lay across the floor just inches away from my bed, but who was standing behind him? Myself? Well, that made less than no sense. But then again, I suppose dreams often didn't make sense. So why did I feel like it wasn't a dream? My dreams had been so vivid these past few weeks it was more like a story line and less like my imagination, as if my mind was trying to tell me something, and as the dreams kept coming I was less certain that I was ready to learn what they wanted me to know. I shook myself all the way awake. These stupid dreams were too far fetched to be anything less than my imagination, I would repeat that mantra until they went away. Fake, fake, fake.

As I stood in the bathroom brushing my teeth, my phone range. I went to my night stand to see Olivia's name on the caller I.D. And went back to the sink.

“Hello?” I answered before spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Good morning! I'm picking up coffee right now then I will be at your house with Danielle to start our day of preparation.” She announced.

“Already? Its only eleven and the dance doesn't start until eight.”

“I know you're new to this whole prom thing so if you could just let the experienced Veterans handle the details.” She said smugly, as if by chance I'd be jealous of her previous prom experiences.

“My apologies, no more questions.” I stepped into my closet and pulled into a pair of jeans and a zipped gray hoodie. “Think you could meet me at the corner cafe instead? If you don't mind holding off on the girly festivities for an hour more, I'd like to eat.”

“Oh, fine.” She whined, “As long as its quick.”

. . .

I pushed the last of my omelet around on my plate with my fork, debating weather or not I could handle one more bite. Olivia had just finished telling Danielle about the previous night and the trouble she'd had finding a dress to fir her hips when the waitress brought our ticket.

“We saw your sister at the vintage store too, carrying a Miss America dress on her way out.” Olivia noted, while signing her receipt.

“She showed me it last night,” Danielle answered, “It's pretty gaudy.”

“I'm sure whomever her date is will eat it all up—any word on who that might be?” She spied curiously up at Danielle.

“Prepare yourself,” Danielle grinned, “It's Conner.”

I wanted to burst out in laughter, but I bit it back. Was it egotistical of me to know suddenly that I had been 'first choice'? Maybe. But another part of me wondered Conner he didn't just ask Debbie to the dance to begin with.

“Whoa! You could have given me a list of ten different options and Conner would have been my last pick!” Olivia laughed.

“Random, right?” Danielle snickered.

“You know who Casey is going with right?”

“Mainly I'm just shocked that she's even going.” Danielle teased.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” I interrupted, “He's not really even my date, more like, an agreement.”

“Oh really?” A voice asked from somewhere behind me that sent a chill through me.

Olivia and Danielle whom sat across from me stared with awkward grins at the person behind me. By the gawky facial expression Olivia held I could almost guarantee who it was, though I was slightly hoping it was anyone but him.

“Morning, ladies.” Abel said in his sickeningly lyrical voice. “Mind if I join?”

“As a matter of fact, we were just leaving.” I slang my purse across my shoulders and scooted out of the booth, motioning for them to do the same.

“But we'll be seeing you later?” Olivia's flirty question made me nearly gag.

“Unfortunately, the reservations that I made were only for two.” Of course they were.

“How cute.” Danielle badgered.

We all walked through the door that Abel held open for us and emptied out near where we'd parked. Having Abel around made me suddenly remember not brushing my hair this morning, and now, strongly regretting it. Effortlessly he was put together, and I wondered thoughtfully for a moment if he owned clothes in another color than black.

“So what exactly were you doing here?” I asked, only after saying it did I realize how rude it probably sounded.

“Just passing by,” He nodded to the direction of my Jetta, “I recognized your car out front and realized I didn't have your number. I'll need a way of getting a hold of you tonight.”

Before I even had the chance to reply, Olivia blurted out each number. He retrieved a little black cell and punched in the numbers as she said them then, with that familiar grin, he looked back up at me. It was as if he knew how much I was dreading this night and enjoyed every minute of watching me squirm.

“I'll pick you up at seven then?” He asked, stepping off the curb, and I nodded wordlessly in response.

We watched as he kicked the stand of a black bike and it roared away.

“I hate you so much right now.” Olivia said, her and Danielle still gazing in his direction.

I turned to leave, “Take him, he's yours.”

“Oh please!” Olivia made a ridiculous mocking noise, “What is it about him that you hate so much anyway?”

Oh, just his impeccably creepy timing, his taunting evil grin, his strange ability to move at the speed of light, and that stupid mix of new car smell and spice that he leaves every time he walks away.

“Nothing.” I answered sharply. “He's just more your type than mine, that's all. I'll see you guys at my place.”

The specifics wouldn't matter to Olivia, who was a little less skin-deep than I, but to me the facts weighed against him. He'd rubbed me the wrong way on more than one occasion which was all the reason I needed not to be one of his adoring fans.

. . .

“See I told you!” Olivia stood in the archway of my bathroom door gawking at herself in my full-bodied mirror. “This dress fits me like a glove.”

She strutted down the length of my bathroom behind Danielle and I, as we stood in front of my bathroom counter and finished the last of our getting ready. When she reached the closet entrance, she spun in full circle showing off her short fitted aqua-blue dress. It ruched at the hips and folded along the bust line where she topped it with the same showy rhinestone necklace that she wore at my birthday party.

“It looks great.” Danielle acknowledged while straightening out her own maroon dress. “You're lucky you're the only girl in your family, Olivia. I'm tired of getting hand-me-downs from a sister that I don't even live with.”

“You should have asked me last week,” Olivia covered her lips in a heavy coat of gloss, “I've got plenty of dresses just laying around in my closet and unlike your sister, hooker isn't really my style.”

We all shared a silent laugh.

After braiding all of my hair along the front side of my head I twisted it around loosely in the back where it folded easily into a hanging bun. I swiped on some bronze powder and edged my eyelids with a dark gray shadow. I had Olivia finish with a liquid eye liner and some wispy mascara. Before calling it a day I decided that I'd add one last touch. I reached into my necklace drawer and retrieved a rather bulky peachy-pink colored rock necklace. It hung just high enough over the strapless black dress to accent it properly, without being too much.

I was putting a few necessities into a small black clutch when the doorbell rang. An unfamiliar nervousness tensed inside of me.

“I'll get it!” Olivia shouted while hurrying out of the room. “You can't be the one to answer the door.”

She grabbed hold of Danielle's arm and they raced out of my room. Her constant need for all things cliché would leave me always more fascinated.

I chose not to wait for a dramatic entrance and instead followed a few feet behind them. I didn't need any reason to give Abel the pleasure into thinking this was anything more than an agreement. Even despite my uncontrollable nerves.

“Hey, cutie.” Olivia greeted him at the door while her and Danielle crowded around the opening. “She's still getting ready.”

“No, I'm not.” I interrupted and the two of them turned around. Olivia gave me an irritated look for not playing along.

They left just enough space between them that I had a clear view of Abel. And what a view it was. Dressed in black slacks, a black button-up and black tie, he stood at the edge of my porch with a single red rose in hand. His dark brown hair was, for the first time, let down and fell in loose pieces around his neckline. Olivia's goofy grin matched my own thoughts as I caught his stare and a familiar insecure feeling flooded through me again. A new smile twisted at the side of his mouth, it was one less vicious than I'd seen before, there was something that lingered in it that I dared not think too much on. It was a smile that, had I not known any better, could have been mistaken for actual delight. A spark of something unidentifiable flashed in his smokey eyes, and my heart fluttered.

I shook the feeling from my head and into focus.

“Ready?” I asked in my best unamused voice.

“As I'll ever be.” He replied, coolly.

“Alright, lets get this over with.”

We all exited and I made certain to double check that the house was locked, remembering briefly coming home to an open door last Monday. Even if only done by accident, I still didn't want to risk it happening again.

I made way for the driver's side door of the Jetta as Olivia and Danielle hopped into her little red Honda.

“We'll see you two at the dance!” She called out, while the car bounced down the driveway.

I turned the key to my door just as his icy hand covered mine. Startled, I jerked away.

“What you you doing?” I asked awkwardly.

“You didn't think I'd let you drive us around tonight, did you?” Gently, he slipped the keys from my hand and into his, and for whatever unknown reason, I allowed it.

He opened the passenger's seat for me and a moment later we were down the driveway. The car pulled to where the driveway and road came together, the right would lead us to town where all the well known restaurants were located, and to the left a road that followed the shore on the edge of town would take us father out from the city than I would have felt comfortable with. It was too be expected that he turned left.

I remained silent for as long as I could until at least twenty minutes had passed and I couldn't hold my tongue a moment more.

“Where are we going?” I finally blurted.

“That would ruin the surprise.” He answered, not taking his eyes from the road.

“Look, Abel, I know that you're getting some sort of weird kick out of taking me out against my will tonight, but there's no need to make this more than what it is. I agreed to go to the dance with you if you'd turn in your work. That's all this is, an agreement.” It was only after I said it all that I realized I might have been too arrogant with my words.

“You're not very good with surprises.” He said, while slowing to a stop. He took the next left and followed the road upward until we were farther outside of town than I'd ever been. A few more moments passed when something occurred to me. I knew less than little about Abel. I didn't know where he was from, where he lived or his last name for that matter. For all I knew he could have propositioned me into taking me out to be slaughtered, and I'd just bought a dress for the occasion.

“Don't worry,” He whispered, as if reading my thoughts, “I'll keep you safe.”

I didn't respond, but fear crept through me.

He rounded the hill crowded with lush green trees until it came to an opening. There, in the distance, just on the top of a wide hill, sat a brick lodge. As the car approached, we came to a painted sign that, read:

Hilltop Vineyards

A tiny flicker of relief washed over me as he turned into a parking spot. He came around to the passenger side and opened my door, I stepped out, looking attentively at the beautiful scenery. Rows of little green trees lined most of the area until they met a stoney pathway that wound it's way up to the big brick structure at the top of the peak.

“As you can see, I've taken this agreement very seriously.” He lifted his hand in a forward motioning gesture and I walked cautiously ahead of him.

A short girl with fluffy blonde hair sat us at a cloth covered table near the back of the restaurant near a large bay window that looked out over the evening ocean. Her eyes locked on Abel as she asked in the same voice as Olivia what we wanted to drink. I scanned over the menu deciding that everything was far too expensive for my liking and ordered a glass of water. She returned shortly still fixated in on him as she set our glasses down. It took all of me not to roll my eyes.

Moments of silence passed. I stared almost longingly out towards the ocean as beams of sun stretched across the bay. The sun was almost all the way disappeared on the horizon. This view was twice as pretty as the one from the balcony at my house. A memory of my mom insisting upon putting a wrap-around balcony around my house reminded me of my dream from the night before and an ache pulled in my gut.

“Everything alright?” Abel asked. I looked over at him, his fingers laced together and eyes locked in on me.

“I'm fine.”

“So why don't you tell me about yourself?”

“How about you go first?”

His eyes narrowed into mine. “What's there to tell?”

“Maybe start with why I could hear you talking in my head the other day at school?” I shocked even myself with my abrupt question. Rewind buttons should come with our life sentences.

“I'm sure you know how crazy that sounds, Casey.” He smirked.

“If I'm as crazy as I sound, why are you still smiling?” There was a beat of silent eye-contact before he responded.

“Fair enough,” He sipped some water from the edge of his glass, “You caught me, when I'm not busy finishing loads of unneeded school work, I part time as Superman. My x-ray vision is suiting me quite well on an evening as such.”

Before his eyes could slip any further down my neckline I stopped him.

“Your wit exceeds you, however, I'm not in the mood for games.”

“You should learn to relax a little, Rowan, it was only a joke.”

I snuffed back at him just as a high-pitched voice called out from across the room.

“Abe?!” A girl squealed. I turned to find Debbie Clark standing just tables away. Just the touch I needed for this perfect night.

Her white rhinestone dress cut low and bellowed out to the ground around her. Conner approached from behind her with a small white purse in one hand and a beaded pastel cardigan in the other. His usually untamed hair was slicked back and glistened in the dim restaurant's light.

Before I knew it Debbie was at our table, pulling Abel up for an almost inappropriate hug.

“Oh-em-gee! This is totally nuts, how have you been?” She asked still holding on to either side of his elbows.

“Just fine.”

“So how do you two know each other?” She asked, glaring down at be for a brief moment.

“English.” I answered. “Mr. Miller asked me too--”

“Well, that's nice.” She interrupted, “Abe, you have to come over for dinner, my dad would love to see you. I wish I would have known you were in town, that way you wouldn't have gotten suckered into taking such a dull date to senior prom.”

He brushed off her comment and sat back down, “It was nice to see you, Deb, I hope you enjoy your night.”

An annoyed look rolled off of her lashes before she batted them one last time at Abel.

“Don't let so much time pass before we hang out again, Abe, call me.” She turned her back and I took note of her very bony structure and a high-bun that reminded me of the movie Cinderella, only more tacky.

“Yeah, Abe.” I grumbled to myself.

“Jealousy?” His eyes flicked up to me.

“Of Debbie Clark? Hardly. I think you guys are an adorable pair.” I rolled my eyes.

“Don't worry, we were never a pair. I just stayed with her family for a short time before I started school here.”

“Oh, I wasn't worried. What you do with your spare time is none of my concern.”

“Not worried, not jealous. Do you feel much?”

“Not for you.”

“Right, then. You're too cool for feelings then too.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, then shut it again. Thanks to that short, but lovely little encounter with the always pleasant Debbie, I'd allowed myself to act childish enough to give off the impression that I was jealous, in which case, I most certainly was not. Or, so I would continue to tell myself.

A few more awkward moments of silence hung before the waitress returned for our orders.

“We'll take the steak,” Abel said to his newest fan club member, “Medium-well and for our side the seared asparagus, please.”

If I was in the mood for protesting, now would have been the proper time, being that I wasn't usually a fan of the idea of having my dinner ordered for me. But it was exactly what I wanted. She smiled sweetly at him and was gone.

“You'll love the steak here.” He said.

“You've had it before. So then you come here often?” I asked, hopeful that my inquiry would get something more than a Superman joke in response.

“Not often, but I've been here once with...” There was an awkward pause that hinted he might be thinking about how to word the rest of his statement, “With my dad.”

“My dad would love this place too. So where did your family move here from?”

“Here and there.” He answered, casually.

“Here and there? Can't say I'm familiar with it, is that on the East Coast?” I raised my brow as his expression changed.

“Listen, I can't tell you a lot about myself, okay?” He almost whispered, in an uninviting tone.

“And why is that?” Just as my question rolled out of my mouth, a cell phone began to ring. I looked down for my purse as he flicked his phone open and mumbled 'hello'.

His eyes shot to me as a muffled voice buzzed on the other line. I held contact with him for the remainder of the silent phone call before he flicked the phone shut.

He pulled his chair out and rose, while sticking his phone into his pocket.

“We need to leave.” An urgent edge filled his voice.

“Now? Why?”

He rounded the table and pulled my chair out slowly, I rose, still confused by what I'd missed.

“Just follow me,” His low whisper made me uneasy, “I can't explain right now.”

Before I knew it we were through the front doors and down the steps in such a hurry that I didn't even have time to wave goodbye to Conner, much less see him as I rushed out.

He took the keys from his pocket and quickly reached over to unlock the passenger door for me.

“Abel, what's going on? You're kinda freaking me out.” Just as I shut the door he pulled the car quickly out of the parking lot and down the steep hillside.

“I'm going to have to drop you off at your house okay?” The car sped down the road.

“Listen, James Bond, it would be great if you would stop deflecting my question and would update the girl who's car you're disobeying the law with about what is going on!”

In that same instant he pulled that car to the side of the road where it jerked to an abrupt stop. A green treeline edged the base of the road before it dropped down hundreds of feet to the ocean. I looked over the edge of the road through the car window then back to him, still waiting for an answer.

“Casey, you're in a lot of danger.” I could tell that every ounce of him didn't want to say the words he'd just said.

“I'm... what?”

He didn't reply. His lips pursed together as we sat in silence. How had we gone from sitting at a beautiful restaurant to a parked car on the edge of town in only a matter of moments? I listened to the sounds of the waves crashing in the background and tried to steady my heart rate as I sat in the car next to him.

“Do you hear that?” He whispered, and looked out of the car window as if searching for something.

“Hear what?” I followed his gaze.

“That ticking noise?”

Somewhere, not far outside of the car, I could in fact hear the soft clicking that reminded me of the hands on a clock as they clicked through time.

And the next few moments of my life went by in slow motion.

In one instant Abel's hands where on me in the car and in a flash of speed too quick for me to recall, we were outside of the car. I listened to the faint ticking noise swish past my ear as our bodies propelled through the air until we came crashing together on the hard cement nearly fifty-feet away from the Jetta. It was at that same time that the clicking noise from my car turned into a dreadful popping sound. Before I could even think about what was happening, I looked back, my vision still whirling around me, towards the Jetta that now looked so far away, just as the metal athat jacketed the car combusted. The glass burst as red and orange flames blazed their way out of the side windows and came together in a loud bang as the car exploded. A thick black smoke bellowed from within and metal flung like confetti through the air.

Abel threw his lean arms over me to shield the stray pieces that fell from the sky and I cried against him in fear. After the initial blast, almost nothing was left of my little black car. The dust settled around the flames and particles of rubber floated like snow-flakes down through the thick air.

As quickly as the explosion had happened, it was over.

Still too shaken to stand I pulled my body from him.

“What the hell is happening?!” My voice crackled with fear.

“Casey, we need to go.” Abel stood and reached his hand out to me.

I pulled my still-shaking hands into myself.

“No.” I whimpered.

From far off in the distance, sirens sounded. I looked back at him, still unsure how to comprehend what was going on. His six-foot tall body towered over me as I sat huddled on the ground. Tears filled my eyes.

“No.” I repeated again, too stunned to let myself think any other thoughts.

My car had just exploded in front of me.

He lowered himself down in front of me and his eyes locked mine.

“I know this might be hard for you to understand right now, but we need to leave. I will keep you safe, I promise, Casey, but I need you to come with me.” He pulled his phone out and dialed a number before holding it to his face. “Jack, I'm outside of the city. Yeah, that road. Okay. Yes, there was an ambush. Yes, I'm with the girl. Yes. Okay.” He hung the phone up and looked away. The girl? And now I was the girl?

Moments later a black SUV with dark tinted windows made its way quickly down the road towards us.

“This car will take you to your house. I will meet you there tonight, pack a bag and be ready to leave by nine.” As he spoke the words there was a new look in him that I didn't understand. The Abel from dinner, the playful, teasing guy was gone. A serious more frightening one was in his place. My body shook all over as he helped me into the car and I didn't say a word. He shut the door behind me.

Silently the car pulled down the road and away from the scene. I dared not look back at now, so I focused my attention to the short middle-aged man driving the car.

“What's gonna happen to him?” I asked him, after a few long moments passed.

“Oh, he'll figure something out. We just need you to be safe.”

. . .

My house seemed more empty than it ever had before. I stood alone in my room with purse in hand ignoring the vibrating buzz of my ringing phone. I knew it was Olivia calling to ask where I was and why I wasn't to the school yet, but I didn't care. I was instructed to have my bags packed and ready by ten, that was an hour away now. I wasn't sure I was ready to try and understand what was happening, but I knew there wasn't enough time. I opened my purse and pulled my phone out and dialed my dad's number for the third time since I'd been home, but he didn't answer. In fact, the line didn't even ring it only went straight to voice mail. Frustrated I threw it to my bed. What was I supposed to do? Everything in me wanted to call Olivia and tell her about what happened. But somehow I knew better. The dreams, the whispers, the new stranger that came abruptly into my life, they weren't adding up. Had tonight never happened I could have brushed it all off as coincidence or over reacting but this was too far. Abel had said just moments after getting a phone call that pulled us away from dinner that I was in danger. And then he literally flew us out of the car as it blew to smithereens. How could he have known? And that comment at dinner when I asked him too many personal questions, that he couldn't tell me anything about himself. From day one he'd been bad news, though I never imagined it to be this bad, I'd sensed right. So why would I pack my bags and be ready and waiting for someone that had known about far too many strange things that didn't add up? Why would I trust someone like that? The answer was: I wouldn't.

CHAPTER 7.

 It was just passed ten thirty as I pulled the Beamer onto the main road through town. I'd text Olivia a vague something or other about having a quick emergency and that I would tell her more later, she knew better than to ask questions. I tried calling both my dad and Barbra a few more times, with no luck. The bag I packed was full of clothes and bathroom utilities. Why I'd packed it, I wasn't really sure, being that I had no real idea as to where I was going. I drove across town until the road forked and a sign told me I could either turn left towards Seattle or right towards and even farther, more remote town I'd that I couldn't remember the name of. I turned right. I wished silently to myself that I'd never met Abel and flicked the windshield whippers. A light rain drizzled through the night, carrying with it a heavy fog. Where was I going? I looked down to the clock on the dash, it read: ten fourteen.

I'd known enough about this end of town to remember a hotel-slash-gas-station just on the out-skirts. I didn't really trust that it was far enough away, but it was better than my house. I would stay there until I got a hold of my dad then together we could get a hold of the authorities. It was then that it occurred to me that I hadn't talked to my dad in nearly a week. Not that it was out of character for him to be unresponsive, but he did a good job for the most part, of at least keeping tabs on me. A tiny light bulb went off in my mind. I knew that his secretary, Claire, worked late, maybe I would be lucky enough to get a hold of her before she left tonight. So I pulled out my phone and dialed the number to my dad's office.

“Robert Rowan's office, how may I help you?” A woman with a voice like a songbird answered sweetly.

“Hi, Claire, this is Casey Rowan, Bob's daughter.”

“Oh, hi there Casey, I was trying to get a hold of you earlier today but instead talked to your house keeper.”

“You were? Is everything okay?” Worry flooded through me.

“Yes, everything is fine, your dad's trip has been pushed back until Wednesday. Your housekeeper said he would relay the message but apparently that never happened?”

“No, I was out with—wait—he?”

“Yes, he said he would make sure he told you when you were home this evening.”

“My housekeeper is a woman named Barbra.”

There was a hum from the dead noise that hung between the lines as Claire comprehended my words, just as a tall dark figure stepped out from the tree-line and approached the road.

The phone fell from my face as my car screeched to a slippery stop just feet away from the figure. I all but screamed as my heart flip-flopped inside of me.

“Casey? Casey, are you okay?” Claire's voice muffled through the phone that now sat in my lap. With my eyes still glued to the outside of my car I picked my phone up and held it back to my ear.

“Thanks for your help, Claire.” And I hung the phone up.

Heavy rain hit against the car as the figure moved slowly in the thick fog and towards the Beamer. Options raced through my mind for what I should do. I could throw the car in drive and plow right threw the unknown figure and just keep driving or I could sit here and wait to find out who it was. Moments passed like years as I tried to conjure up enough strength to make my hands move to the shifter, but I couldn't. My brain yelled at my hands to do something, anything but I sat like a stone in the front seat as the figure entered the pool of headlights beaming off of the front of my car. He was in all black and his wet hair whipped around his tough cheekbones, while his raven eyes fixed in on me as I sat motionless in the front seat. Abel stood just a few feet away now, looking in, with an angry gaze. How stupid I now felt for running. I'd wished I would have made it just a half a mile further up the road to the hotel so I could have had a better chance for hep, or at the very least, a witness.

He came to the side of the driver's door and my heart nearly pounded out of my chest. The door unlatched and with it went any ability I had to control myself. As if waking from hibernation my body sprung into action. I pounced across the seat towards the passenger seat door and wrapped my hands around the handle, but not quick enough. His strong arms reached around my waist and with one hard tug pulled me all the way out of the car. I kicked angrily against his body as my arms beat frantically. I thrashed my head back against his chest over and over but his grasp was too tight.

“Casey, Casey! Please stop!” His words yelled into my ears as he wrapped his arms tighter around me making it almost impossible to even move.

After many moments of struggling, my body was too tired to continue. My fell limp in his arms, defeated and more nervous than ever.

“What to you want from me?” I half-cried, half-whispered.

“I asked you to meet me at your house.” His grip still tight.

“Please just let me go.” I didn't yell when I pleaded, though I wanted to scream.

“If I let you go, you have to promise that you're not going to run away.”

“Fine.”

“You're lying.”

“Where am I gonna run to?”

A moment of quiet rainfall passed then his grasp loosened and I fell forward on the car. I thought about ducking under his arm and taking my chances down the side of the forest, but I knew better. I turned around to face him, his dark eyes glistening in the haze of the cold night.

“Where were you going?” He finally asked.

I tilted my chin in the direction of road that led to where I knew the hotel was just around the corner.

“The hotel up the road... I think.”

A quiet chuckle rolled off his lips, “Did you think I wouldn't find you?”

“There's a lot of things I would have doubted before today.” My answer was said too nervously to be a strong comeback.

“Here,” he reached out and held the door open, “If you insist on going to the hotel, then we'll go, but I'm not letting you go alone. It's too risky.”

I wanted to ask what he meant by that, unfortunately, getting out of this rain sounded more appealing than any other option. Shivering and wet didn't really help my already unfortunate situation.

I pulled into the empty lot and rounded the car outback to remain out of sight, though I was unsure now just who I thought I was hiding from, being that my main worry was sitting in my passenger seat.

“I'll be right back. I trust that you wont blow this car up too?” Before allowing him to reply, I slammed the door behind me and trudged away.

The front desk sat behind big glass windows in a ten by ten front room. There was a box of tissues and a bell on the counter that I rang twice. A mid-height man with a dark comb-over and bulging round belly greeted me a moment later.

“What can I do for you?” He said, giving me the once-over and taking a visible note that I was sopping from head to jeans.

“I just need a room for the night please.”

“Would you like the continnental breakfast?” He asked while clicking a few things on a computer screen,

“No, just the room.”

“I just need some I.D. And verification that you're over the age of seventeen.”

I placed my I.D. On the counter and he scanned it carefully.

“Happy birthday late birthday to you, miss Rowan.” He handed my card back and retrieved some keys from the drawer by his legs. “Rowan? As in Robert Rowan of Rowan industries?”

“My dad.” I nodded, then shifted my eyes out the window behind me.

“That will be thirty dollars, Casey Rowan, the daughter of Robert-freaking-Rowan.”

I smiled an uneasy smile, and tried to ignore the price that seemed steep for such a dingy place, but I wasn't about to argue. I set the cash out on the counter and we exchanged the keys.

“Will it be just you this evening?” His question caught me off guard and my eyes shot nervously up to him, then out the window and in the direction of the car.

“Yep. Just me.” Knowing that it wasn't entirely a lie. There was no way I was going to let Abel stay the night in this hotel with me. “Thanks.” I called out while backing out the door. An unsettling feeling washed over me as I thought about going back inside and asking the man to call the cops for me, then I shook the thought away.

The room was dull and the air was stale. I tossed my bag on the bed and twisted my wet hair into a bun behind head as Abel locked the door behind us, then closed the curtains. The yellow light from the lamp spilled out into the bedside table when I flicked it on. I turned around to face Abel who stood across the room, leaning against the wall.

“I'm sorry about your prom night.” He said, before peeling out of his leather jacket and I wondered when he'd had time to change out of his dress clothes.

“I didn't want to go anyways.” I answered, plopping down on the side of the bed. I leaned forward to take my shoes off and they squished off in a wet mess. “Would you mind hanging out while I took a shower? I didn't realize how wet it was out there.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

I picked my bag up hesitantly and slipped into the tiny bathroom where I locked the door behind me. Had the window been a few inches wider I might have thought about slipping out the back to my car and racing away. But it was too small and I wasn't that brave. Not after how fast I'd seen Abel move earlier tonight, I knew I didn't stand a chance running from him.

The water was almost too hot as it dripped down my skin and created a cloud of steam around me. I tried to clear my mind of everything that raced through me and allow my nerves to relax. Though I'd told Abel otherwise, a part of me really was a little upset that this night couldn't have just been normal. The one prom I could have enjoyed was spent first watching my car blow up then running from the creepy-guy-from-English. Not exactly the story line my mind would have depicted. I stood in the hot steam for just another moment, when, from somewhere just outside of the shower curtain, I heard my name. Spoken clearly and soft.

"Casey..." It whispered.

A familiar chill ran through me and I forced the curtain open quickly, angered by the voice. No one was there. I switched the water off in an urgent motion and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel firmly around myself. I went to the bathroom door and flung it open, where I saw Abel sitting relaxed on the bed with his legs stretched out and arms folded behind his head against the headboard.

“It was you!” I shouted at him as beads of water dripped from my hair to my shoulders. “You were the one who whispered my name that night that I was in the shower after the first day we met!”

“I'm not quite sure what you're talking about.” He answered, unbothered by my accusing tone.

“Who are you?” I blurted out before I could filter the question.

“I think we've been over this before. That's a silly question, you know my name.”

“What I do know is that ever since I met you things have been really weird, and I don't like it.”

In a flash he was standing from the bed to across the room and only inches away from me. His eyes tightened into mine and I remembered the day when I confronted him in the lobby. An echo of him saying that he wanted to be my hoodie repeated in my mind and I suddenly felt more nervous than I'd ever been in his presence before.

“What do you want to know, Casey?” His words spoke into my head but his mouth didn't move, nor did his stare unlock from mine.

“Just tell me why you're here.” I demanded quietly.

“I'll tell you, but you have to understand that my intentions have changed.” That answer alone scared me enough to wonder if I should have ever asked that question to begin with. “I came to take the card, and that's what I should have done.”

“What card?” I took inventory in my mind to recall a card, “you mean the one my dad gave me for my birthday?”

“Yes. And it was easy slipping it out of your bag. But out of my own stupidity I gave it back. And why? Because I wanted to talk to you again.” Anger flashed in him. “It was a childish move.”

“So that's why you went through my room on Monday? To take it back?”

“No, I went on the night of your birthday and retrieved it then. Who was at your house Monday?” He raised his brow.

“I'm not sure, but my room was trashed. Someone had gone through everything in my room and didn't have the decency to close the front door on the way out.”

“And you didn't tell anyone, that's completely—wait—the front door?”

“Yeah, its a pretty common attachment on a house used to get in and out.” I'm sure this wasn't the best moment for direct sarcasm, but it was hard to bite back.

“Was anyone else home when you got there?”

“My housekeeper, Barb. But she was asleep on the couch.”

“And where is she now?”

“I can't get a hold of her or my dad. Are you going to tell me whats going on here? What did you need that stupid birthday card for anyway?”

He stepped away, suddenly detached from our conversation and looked down at my towel.

“You gonna wear that all night?”

I looked down at my tightly wrapped torso and covered myself, self-consciously.

“I forgot I was wearing it.” I mumbled.

“Well, I haven't.” His voice lowered, and a smile twisted at the edge of his lips.

I huffed and turned for the bathroom, “Give me a minute.”

The door latched behind me and I searched through my bag, wishing I would have packed something more suitable than a flimsy tank and shorts. Not that I had any intention of having company. I slipped into the gray shorts and pulled the tank over my head, then attempted to dry my hair with the towel, but had little luck. Damp pieces of hair fell down my back and I ran my jittery fingers through it as I reopened the door.

“Much more appropriate.” He commented, but I could almost hear a hint of sarcasm. He approached from the side of the bed and reached into his back pocket, retrieving a very familiar little pink envelope. “Here. You know too much already.”

I fidgeted with the envelope back and forth in my hand for a minute until I slipped the card out and tossed the envelope to the bed. The front of the card had pastel flowers and a little bird that flew over the words: “To My Daughter on Her Special Day.”

Allowing myself to relax, I sat down on the end of the bed and opened the card. In gold lettering a little poem about a girl becoming a woman lined the right side of the card, then on the left page, hidden under a hundred dollar bill, was a long paragraph of words hand-written by my dad. I slipped the money out and read.

Happy 18^th birthday, Casey. I hope this day was special for you and I hope you know that I love and miss you. You have grown to be such a beautiful girl, every day I see more and more of your mother in you and I couldn't be more proud of the woman you're becoming. But now there are a few things that I want you to know. Recently I've been attempting to do some of my own research about the night your mother died. I've found out far too many things to explain in a card, but in the process I've come across dangerous territory. I'm leaving to keep you safe and I'm leaving you with instructions: Stay put. Don't leave town, don't come after me, that's what they'll expect. I'll contact you after your birthday to insure that you've read this, but we can't talk about it over the phone, they might be listening. I want to apologize for not always being the best dad that I could be, but know that I've always loved you and will never stop. I'm sorry that I'm leaving you with a lot of questions, but I promise that its for the best. I love you, Casey.

I looked up to where Abel was standing, not sure what to say. My dad was right about one thing, he'd only left me with more questions, but a few stood out more than others. I thought back to last week when I'd talked to my dad on the phone. He'd played it so cool, like nothing was wrong and he'd just been on a normal trip.

“How did you know what my dad wrote in this card?” I asked.

“Because I watched him write it.”

The hair on my neck stood on end. “You—what?”

“I know that you've caught on to a few of my abilities, so maybe it will come as less of a shock when I tell you about the Black Arts—powers, if you will.” Just like before he flashed through the air and in an instant he was right in front of the end of the bed. Feeling too uncomfortably close to him, I stood from my seat and stepped a few feet back.

“What does this have to do with my dad?”

“I've been here for longer than just a few weeks, you just couldn't see me, neither could your father. I tried to come to you in your dreams but you're always running.”

“My dreams!” Another imaginary light-bulb illuminated in my head. “In this card my dad said that he found out about the night my mom died, just last night I had a dream that I was in my room staring at myself as a man stood over a younger version of me, about to attack. I was five in my dream, and I was five when my mom died.” Tears welled in my eyes. “This is all more than I want to try and understand.” I slummed back down on the bed, as a feeling of defeat washed over me. He waited a few beats before sitting down next to me. Silence filled the air between us when another thought came over me. My dad said 'they' might be listening, as if implying that someone was watching and listening, and Abel had just announced being able to be around without being seen. That's when it occurred to me, that even though I had little to no idea what was going on, or what to believe, Abel could very well be the reason my dad left in the first place. “I think you should leave.” I looked over at him as he stared off in the direction of the bathroom.

“You're right not to trust me,” he replied, “but I assure you that you can.”

“I don't know what to trust right now.”

“Trust that I'm not going to let anything happen to you.” His voice a low rumble.

I didn't respond so he stood to his feet.

“Fine.” He said, “if you want me to leave I will, I'll be out in your car all night long and in the morning I will take you home where you can get more of your things and go stay at Olivia's, but I'm not leaving you alone.”

“To Olivia's? Yeah, right, I'm not dragging her into any of this. She'll flip.”

“We can figure that out tomorrow, but for now, you need to rest. You've had a long day.”

“I couldn't rest even if I wanted to, I've got a million and five questions rolling around in my head that I'd like answered.” I all but shouted.

“Your questions can wait,” he replied, “get some rest.”

I stood and followed behind him to the door and reached out for his wrist.

“Answer me!” I linked my hand around his arm and he spun in a full-fast motion around. Quickly his hands tightened over my own as we shifted our places and before I knew it I was backed up against the wall with his hands on either side of the molding around me. This was the closet I'd been to him since he clobbered me outside of the Beamer, and though I was still filled with worry and fear, for the first time all of my thoughts went silent. I breathed deep against the wall unsure of what he'd do next as he leaned into my face and placed his mouth against mine. His warm lips curved gently into my own and for at least three whole seconds, the world and all the time in it stopped. In my right mind I would have slapped him away and demanded he leave at once, but clearly, in my right mind, I most certainly was not. Instead I lifted my fingers to his pant-pockets and hooked them over the edge, pulling his hips in closer to mine. He slipped his hands off of the wall and around either side of my neck, pressing firmly against my mouth with his. With his lean body against mine I held around his sides tightly and breathed his spicy scent.

CHAPTER 8.
A few long moments passed before he pulled away quickly and I let off of my tip-toes. All of my thoughts swirled back into my head. His face moved away and I wiped my mouth with the tips of my fingers.

“I'm so sorry.” He finally mumbled.

I didn't reply. I brushed past him quickly towards the other side of room. How could I let my guard down so easily? And for what? To indulge in a tiny moment of pleasure with someone so—well—someone like him? I swung back around to face him. He stood tall across the room with one arm pulled across himself where he held his other arm. Standing here looking at him now, I knew exactly how I could let my guard down.

“You should leave.” I responded.

A moment more ticked by and then he nodded. Wordlessly he grabbed his jacket that hung from a nearby chair and slung it over his shoulders before turning and slipping out the door. It latched quietly behind him and I paced to the door to lock it. Outside of the curtains I peered through as he made his way to the Beamer and let himself into the back seats. A part of me felt bad. I knew that it wasn't really fair to make him sleep out in the car, but then again, for a lot of different reasons, it wasn't any safer of an idea to let him stay here in the room with me. I climbed into the scratchy sheet-covered bed and reached for my bag, trying with all my might to put what had just happened far from my mind. I pulled my phone out and text Olivia.

“Dude! Why are you MIA? Everything OK?” She replied quickly.

“Things are fine, just at a hotel outside of town. I'll call tomorrow.”

“A hotel?! I knew you'd loose your virginity before me!”

“Wow. I'm by myself.” (Which was only a half-lie.) “I'll tell you more later. Have fun tonight.”

I flipped my phone to the nightstand and turned the light off. The bed was cold and uncomfortable as I lay there alone in the dark. I tried to think about what I should do, but my mind was too caught up on the events that more recently took place here in the hotel. I'd kissed Abel. Willingly. In the heat of the moment I'd stopped freaking out about where my dad was and I kissed him back. A guy that I'd known of for less than two weeks, who'd rubbed me the wrong way from day one, had admitted to having creepy powers, that drove a motorcycle to school and had the longest eyelashes I'd ever encountered.

I held my breath for a moment then exhaled slowly. He was right, rest was crutial if I wanted to think more clearly tomorrow. After closing my eyes, sleep came fast.

. . .

Warm sun blew around his hair as he pulled his Harley down the shoreline. He hadn't been this close to the beach in over fifty years, and was mad at himself for letting that much time pass. Though it wasn't much his own fault. He hadn't been assigned Servant for even a year yet, and strictly speaking, this was his first real case. Earth wasn't something he was unfamiliar with, however, human interactions on the other hand were a different story. But this task would be easy: Do as he was asked for as long as it took. He'd have earned his wings in no time and be a Guardian soon enough.

He took the road to the end of the city where it wound up a curvy pass and ended in front of a big stone house. He kicked his bike stand and a man waited for him out front.

“Looking good, Abe.” He greeted him with a hand-shake at the bottom of the freshly cut, green lawn.

“Not too bad yourself.” Abel answered.

“Come on in, we'll talk over coffee.”

The house was immaculately decorated with manly furnishings of all sorts. Boar heads lined the walls and leather couches sat beside tall oak walls. If there was ever a "bachelor pad" to be imagined, this was surely it's reflection. They took seats on the back patio that over looked an immense lush green hillside, covered in tall pines and rocky trails that stretched for miles out.

“So, I'm sure you looked over the paperwork I sent you.” The man started.

“I scanned a few pages,” Abel sipped his rich coffee, “I figured you'd be more detailed in person.”

“Right then, I suppose I don't mind re-explaining everything,” He tried to disguise his irritation with a friendly smile. “I gave you a file of the people I need you to keep watch on for me. The list is short and the people involved are vague, only one person is specific in this matter. Its a girl, her age and name are pointless, but what is most important is that she doesn't learn my identity. Or yours for that matter. I'm concerned about her father though. The man is too far enveloped in this for you to do anything about him for me, so I'll have to take care of that myself. I've recently learned how to tap into his will power, though, so it shouldn't be too hard. I've talked to an old friend of mine that is going to let you stay with them for a month's time while I work on getting rid of the subject's father.  Staying here with me would only blow your cover. Make friends with this family and allow them to trust you, in the mean time, stay away from the girl and her father. If they see you at all then this whole operation will have been ruined for me, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. If you don't mind me asking, how is it that the Arch Angels have allowed this to happen? Something this elaborate has had to of taken time, how have you managed to go unnoticed by the Board of Angels?”

“I ask myself that same question. Though I imagine it has something to do with the powers I've acquired. They are, simply put, unmatched, and they're only growing. We'll just say that the Arch Angels know better.” The man basked in his own pride for a moment and Abel swallowed deeply. To hear someone speak about the Arch Angels with such disreguard was something that Abel had ever experienced. It made him feel more uneasy than he expected it would.

“I suppose I'm just surprised that a mortal could harbor such great power without even showing up on the radar.”

“Well, you see, son, I'm not a mortal.” Abel's eye narrowed in on him as the man spoke. “Though I'm hardly immortal either. I've taken my chances getting through life like this, but soon it will have been for a purpose. The girl, the one I need you not speak to, she's the last piece in my puzzle. And assuming all goes as planned, I will see to it that you're given a share of the earnings. So, then, go to the family I've assigned you to and do as I ask. I'll report to the higher-ups about your good work as they see fit to ask, but only if you follow my in structions.”

“Yes, sir.” Abel nodded in compliance.

“And Abel?” He pulled up one of his brows. “The most important thing is that you keep a safe distance from the man and his daughter, you're not to show yourself to them. Ever. Are we clear?”

“Absolutely.”

...My eyes shot open. Confused I blinked myself awake, trying to remember where I was. I looked all over until I remembered the night before and falling asleep in the hotel room. A moment fell over me and my memory pulled me back to the dream I'd just had about Abel meeting with a man—my blood raced beneath my skin. It was only a dream, it was only a dream, dream, dream, dream! I picked myself up from the hard bed and raced to the bathroom to splash water on my face. It hit like ice and dripped down over my neck. I paused. I repeated to myself that it was just a stupid dream but my brain wouldn't let me believe it, it had been too real to be a dream. The more I thought about it vividly, the more I recognized what my mind had played out as not a dream at all, but rather, a memory.

I dressed myself before packing my things, then I combed my hair and swiped on a bit of mascara and gloss. When I was finished, I opened the bathroom door to find Abel perched in the cushioned chair across the room. His eyes smoldered as he looked back at me as though they were telling me to say something. And so I did.

“I had a dream about you.” I said very matter-of-fact-like.

A smile hinted at his mouth for a brief moment, “I know.”

“But it wasn't really a dream. It was your memory, wasn't it?”

He didn't respond, but instead, nodded.

“So who was that man?” I asked.

“The man that I work for.”

“And the girl he referenced, was that me? Is that why you're here?”

He nodded again and I quivered. It was too early for this.

“So you weren't supposed to meet me then?”

“I told you last night that my intentions have changed.”

“And why is that?”

He stood to his feet. His tall body stretched upward before he strode across the room, closer to where I was standing.

“I'm sorry if I upset you last night.” He answered, straying from the current topic.

I chose not to respond to his apology. The truth was that I wasn't mad at him about it at all, and instead hated myself for reacting the way that I had. And even more accurate truth was that I was most mad about was that if faced with the same opportunity, I would do it again. I bit my quivering lip.

“The family you stayed with, it was Frank Clark's wasn't it? That's how Debbie knew you, she moved in with her dad after the divorce." I was proud of myself for my random little revelation.

“Yes. My boss and him go way back.”

“So why then? What made you show yourself?”

“A few weeks ago my boss disclosed some information to me. Your father was getting too close to the truth and he was going to send him away the following day. That night he sent me to your house to watch over and make sure that your father didn't do anything too drastic. I went to your house and waited for the two of you to get home from dinner. That was the first time I saw you. Hate me for being smitten by your looks alone, but it wont make it any less true--I'm old fashioned. So be it as it was, I was intrigued. I watched the two of you interact that night in the kitchen. You were witty and intelligent and I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. Then I saw the way you looked at him, like you wouldn't know what to do without him. In the mix of it all, I'd forgotten what I'd come for in the first place and elft after watching you fall asleep that night. I went to your school the next day to retrieve the card he'd written you only to turn around and give it back to you and act even more foolish than the night before. The night I went to your party I told myself that I wouldn't be distracted any longer, I couldn't let all that I'd worked for end so carelessly—but then I saw it in you too. When you looked at me in the driveway that night I knew you felt the same about me. So the next day, when I reported to my boss I told him that your dad had left quietly with no sign of letting you know anything. But I knew what was in the card. I risked my own job to flirt with a girl I barely knew, little did I know that doing so would save her life.” When he was done he looked away from me and stepped a few paces back.

Without him saying another word I could tell that he was still at war with himself for doing what he did, and how did I repay him? By making him sleep in the car. How cliché it seemed for him to risk it all for an attraction but to say I wasn't flattered would be a lie. The unfortunate part was that I actually understood.

“So then this boss of yours, he tried to kill me? That's why my car exploded yesterday?” I tried to keep on the more important topic.

“No, actually, he's made it very clear that when he's ready for you, he wants you alive.”

An ache twisted hard in my belly. He wants me alive.

“Then why did that happen to my poor Jetta then?” I finally asked, not sure I was prepared for any real answer.

“I'm still not sure,” he admitted, “but what I do know is that it has something to do with your mother's death.”

Lovely. This was enfolding into a daytime soap opera before my eyes.

“So what do I do now?” I hoped he'd have an answer, cause I sure as heck didn't.

“You go back to your life. My boss doesn't know I've been seeing you and I plan to keep it that way. I'm not sure yet what he's capable of, but I know that if I upset him it will only make things worse. What I am certain of now is that he may not be the only person after you, and after the explosion of your car yesterday, I'm not willing to take any chances. I've contacted an old friend named Jack who has been trying to get hold of the Arch Angels, but that's not looking too promising either.”

“The Arch Angels?” It sounded less melodic when I said it. “Is that what you are then, an... angel?”

“Not yet.” His gaze moved to the across the room. “I've worked my way up the ladder for many years trying to earn my wings. I had them once, but that was long ago. I plan to get them back somehow. For now, what is important to me is keeping you safe.”

“Why is that the most important thing now?”

“Because you're innocent in all of this—that part I know, and so is your father. The years I worked side-by-side with the bad guys are behind me. I'm not going to earn my wings back if I keep going in the direction I'm currently going in.”

“How did you loose your wings in the first place?”

His eyes shot back to me, “That doesn't matter.”

“Okay...” I whispered back. He walked to my side and retrieved my bag from the floor. “What does matter is that you trust me. I'm not sure if keeping you here is the right decision, but for now it seems like the safest plan. We'll get this straightened out.”

I weighed my options. It was all a lot to take in by itself, and even harder to believe. Even so, somehow, I knew it was the truth. Questioning any of it could easily lead me back in an exploding car and that was a risk I wasn't willing to take. Right now didn't seem like the time to ask 'why me' but deep down I wanted to understand how I fell into this whole mess. I remembered the man in the dream saying that I was the last piece of his puzzle and needed to know what that meant. For now, though, I would do as Abel said. I would go home then go to school on Monday like nothing this weekend had ever happened, though it wouldn't be easy, if it meant saving my life and finding out where my dad was, I would. And so I shook my head, to both confirm that I trusted him, but even more so, that I was ready for whatever this was.

. . .

In all the years I'd lived in big home, and all the years my dad was off on business trips I'd never felt scared to be home alone. That was all before now, of course, when being home alone didn't seem as safe as it used to. I walked up the stairs to my room a little faster than usual and shut the door behind me quickly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary but then again I'm sure that's how it was supposed to be. I shook my head. Stop this, I told myself. I wasn't going to get through any of this being such a worry wart. I decided I needed to take my mind off of things, so I picked up the phone and dialed Olivia.

“She lives!” She answered, and I laughed at the irony.

“Yeah, sorry about last night.” I had to think of a good believable lie, “Turns out, Abel used to go to a high school in Seattle so we drove to his old school and crashed their prom. I should have invited you, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, super random, and a heads-up would have been appreciated, but I'm over it. We had a blast last night!”

“Well good, I can't wait to see pics!” I frowned a little, knowing there wouldn't be any of Abel and me.

“So, you'll never guess who won prom queen.” She began.

“Debbie Clark.”

“Yeah, I suppose that was a pretty easy guess.” She laughed. “But anyways, so she wins, she gets her crown and also wins tickets to a concert at that eighteen and older club in Seattle, but get this, as she's walking out she hands them to Danielle because she 'doesn't need' them!”

“Well that will be fun for her.” I add, not sure where she's going with this.

“You mean fun for us! She gave her four tickets and Josh can get us fake I.D.'s being that you're the only one old enough to go.”

“Oh—when is it?”

“Tonight!” The excitement in her voice was kind of hard to say no to.

“Okay...” I reluctantly replied.

“Great! The concert is at nine so we will pick you up around seven tonight, okay?”

“Works for me.”

“Alright, well now I have to go and convince my mom that we're all going to an Opera tonight and that I don't need one of my brother's as a chaparone. See you at six.” The line clicked.

Her brief conversations always seemed to end without a proper “goodbye”.

I slummed down on my bed. Well I guess I'm going to a concert. Not that I didn't want to, but considering the circumstances, a concert was probably one of the last places that I needed to be right now. I could already picture Abel's face when I admitted to leaving the house without his consent. Then again, it's not like he left me his number or any other way to get a hold of him. Besides, going to a concert would mean I was surrounded by people and that, I imagined, would mean I'd be safer. So, perhaps the justification process wasn't exactly the most legitimate, but he did say I should go back to acting normal. The idea of my dad's whereabouts being still unknown didn't make me feel great inside at all, but I trusted what Abel said. He wasn't going to let anything happen to my dad and I knew that. So then, going to a concert wouldn't hurt either of us.

CHAPTER 9.
Steam poured out of the doorway of the bathroom as I opened the doors to my closet.
It was just passed six and I'd already received three texts from Olivia telling me to be ready soon. With a towel wrapped around my sides and one around my head I browsed through the contents of my closet. What do you wear to a concert? I was familiar with the club Olivia had mentioned though I'd never been old enough (or brave enough) to go, and considering I wasn't even sure what band we were going to see, I was faced with an even bigger judgment decision. In the end I went with long red skinny-jeans, a sheer black cami, black heels, and a blue rock necklace. I styled my hair with a few loose curls on the end and a gray smokey-eye for makeup. Before heading down stairs I moved all of my necessities into a leopard print clutch and swiped on some gloss.

The car full of my friends was in the driveway at seven sharp and through town before eight. Olivia and I chatted about more details of the prom that I'd missed and I made up stories about the fake one I'd attended. Not ever actually being to a real one made it hard to reference believable events, but she bought it. I didn't feel good about not sharing all of my secrets with her like I was used to, but the more I thought about what could be happening with my dad, the less I wanted her to be involved in any way.

When we finally made it to the club it was just passed eight-fifteen. The club was called “Wick's” and was smashed between a few other old, vacant buildings on the not-so-nice part of town. We parked out back where Josh distributed the fake I.D.'s to Olivia, Megan and Danielle and we headed to the front of the building.

“Where is Conner?” I asked, as we gathered with the line of people waiting at the bottom of a staircase that climbed up a wall to the the front door of the club.

“He left the dance early last night,” Danielle said, “and we haven't really heard from him since.”

“I called him this morning, but he didn't answer.” Josh added.

“He probably got an STD from Debbie last night and is at home angrily medicating himself.” Olivia smiled an evil smile and everyone laughed. Everyone but me. I was trying not to take note of every strange thing that happened, but it wasn't easy. His weird behavior couldn't have had anything to do with the even-weirder events going on in my life.

After my underage friends were all safely through the door I followed through I crowd of people. Olivia, who was dressed in a one-sleeved pink top, jeans and pink sparkly heels made her way to the bar.

“Scotch on the rocks!” She yelled to the bald bartender.

“I.D. Please?” He called back.

I leaned forward, “Actually, can we just get to Shirley Temples, please?”

Olivia flashed an irritated look then plopped down on the bar stool next to me.

“I could have handled that.” She huffed.

“You're already pushing you're luck just being here.” I said, as the bartender brought our drinks back and I flipped him a ten. “So, whats the name of this band we're seeing?”

She turned around on the bar stool to lean her back against the bar and sucked her drink down with her bright pink lips.

“Not sure.” She answered. “But I can't imagine its anyone cool if they booked this lousy joint.”

Lousy wouldn't be the first word I would use to describe this club, but it would probably be the third. It was about ten minutes outside of the Seattle border and was nestled in the same neighborhood that held First Fridays, Sunday Markets, and other cultural events that hippie's and homeless people enjoyed. “Wick's” had probably been around since the forties. It was a giant square brick building that on a good night could hold anywhere from one-hundred to one-hundred-fifty people. As it turned out, tonight was a good night. Tons of people crowded around the dance floor that stretched out in front of a bulky stage. From the speakers a recording blared some rock tunes and the people with wrist-bands (the twenty-one and over crowd) danced against walls and each other without spilling their drinks.

“May I have this dance?” A tall man with pepper colored hair leaned in over my shoulder and I spun around on my stool to face him. He looked between thirty and forty, but closer to forty if I had to guess.

“Um...” My mind raced with clever little things to say back.

“Oh, come on!” He blurted out. “You're probably the prettiest girl in this joint, let me at least buy you a drink.”

“I'm flattered, really but...” I held up both of my wrists to show that they were band-less, “I'm eighteen.”

Defeated, he shrugged and kept moving on.

“How cute.” Olivia said, then followed with a gagging hand gesture.

“You can't blame him for trying!” Josh laughed and I shoved him in the arm.

A few moments passed before a short guy in torn up jeans entered the stage and the crowd cheered.

“Evening, folks.” His microphone echoed. “Before the band comes out I wanted to give a little back-story about them. The band formed back in--”

He was cut off by loud booing.

“Get off the stage!” Someone hollered from the audience.

“Um,” the guy nervously stammered, “They're local and they play rock. Enjoy.” He set the mic back down and hurried quickly off the stage and the crowd cheered once more. A seconds went by once more then the band members filed onto the stage. They were all dressed casually in jeans and tee's and weren't necessarily the rock band I'd pictured in my head. Then I recognized one of them. His blonde hair was slicked back and his sleeves were rolled up and as he held the bass firmly in his arms I knew he'd recognized me too, even from all the way back here.

“Guys, that's Conner!” I exclaimed.

“What?!” Olivia shot up from her stool and stood on her tip-toes. “No way! It is Conner! He's the one in the blue plaid shirt holding the base.”

The rest of them stood too, trying to get a better view over the large crowd of people. I felt silly now for assuming his odd behavior had anything to do with me, when in fact he'd just been busy with a band. Then again, it did seem really weird that he hadn't ever mentioned it to any of us before, even his best friend Josh, who was standing highest on his tip-toes seemed to be just as shocked by it as the rest of us were.

The drummer held his sticks over his head and clicked them together while mouthing “one-two-a-one-two-three-four,” and the band began. An indie sounding drum beat followed by heavy guitar screams poured from the speakers and out over the crowd. Everyone began bobbing back and fourth. My eyes held onto Conner as he swayed with his bass behind the lead vocalist who yelled the lyrics out at us. I watched the other people on stage for a few moments then let my eyes drift from the stage to the crowd. The first song was only thirty seconds in and people had already started grinding on one another. My eyes floated along the rows of bodies when they stopped on another familiar face. Abel. My heart raced under my tank as I watched him dance against the back of an unfamiliar red-head. He hung his chin over her shoulder with his hands on either side of her hips while she pushed her back-side into his front-side. Vomit swirled around in my throat and threatened to fly out of me. I swallowed, disgusted, just as Abel looked up across the crowed. Almost as if he'd planned for me to be standing right where I was, looking at him right when I had been. His eyes fastened into mine and my heart nearly leaped out of my rib cage. Before I realized what I was doing, I plowed my body backwards in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?!” Olivia called behind me.

“Bathroom!” I lied.

Through the thick mob of fans, I pushed backward, trying desperately not to loose my balance, until I came to the front doors. The tall, brawny security guard looked down at me.

“I just need fresh air!” I yelled, pointing back at the swarm of people.

He unhooked the red rope that led to the door and I hurried down the front stairs. Why I was running out, I wasn't sure, but when I reached the parking lot I stopped myself with my hands on my knees. My breath came in rapid flushes. Why did I care who he danced on? I thought to myself, but the answer was obvious. I'd spent the night before listening to him go on about the first time he'd seen me in my kitchen and actually believed what he'd said. Last night he'd made it sound like I was something special, and so special in fact that he'd risk blowing his stupid cover just to talk to me. What a load of crap. I walked on till I was away from everyone and pulled my phone out to text Olivia just as a hand grabbed my right arm. I spun around defensively to find Abel behind me. Tall and handsome as ever his eyes glowed in the yellow street lamps.

“Let go of me!” I ripped my arm back.

“Casey, please just listen.”

“No, thanks. I'm not in the mood for one of your stupid stories.”

“Casey, don't.”

I noticed from behind him, about ten feet off, as a familiar girl appeared. She was shorter than I with long, vicious red hair and and curvy hips. She wore a tight emerald dress that flattered all of her curves and exposed more of her pearly legs than I felt comfortable seeing.

“Did you spy on her in her kitchen too?” I nodded in her direction.

“She's a friend.” He snapped.

“Oh, I'm sure. Just like Debbie, right?” I hissed. “Did you really think that was going to work? Telling me you were a stupid angel that had stupid powers and a stupid crush? Like that would win me over?”

He rushed to my side and jerked me in the other direction. “Be quiet! Someone might hear you.”

I pulled my arm away.

“Hear what? Your stupid lie? Oh, please.” I tried to began to trudge away when from behind his hand slipped around my front and before I knew it we were rushing through the air. He pulled me tightly for a millisecond of time and air rushed around us at the speed of light, when suddenly we were in an alley. We halted and I fell forward, pushing myself off of him. We were alone in the alley, but I knew we hadn't gone too far, because I could hear the band's music beat against the building we were closest too.

“How did you...?” I looked around a little stunned that we'd gotten here in less than a second.

“What I told you wasn't a lie, Casey.” I didn't respond. “I meant it.”

“Did you tell her that same story then? Did she  stupidly fall all over you and kiss you like an idiot?”

“Casey, stop!” He held either side of my shoulders and narrowed his eyes in on me. “She used to work for my boss, okay? She's an old friend that I needed information from and she told me if I met her here tonight that she would tell me whatever I needed to know.”

So many thoughts raced through me.

“That's the best you can come up with? You tell me to stay in my house because I'm in danger but really it's so you can take your other crush out to a club? No thanks, I'll have no part in this.” I pulled myself away and tried to moved in the opposite direction.

“I know where your dad is.” He called out to me, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned back to face him. “And?”

“My boss has him captive somewhere.” He waited a long, dramatic moment before he went on. “You can walk away and not believe me, or you can listen to me.”

“If you're gonna tell me that the only way I can find him is with your stupid help, I'll pass. I'll figure something else out, I refuse to be a part of  any of this love-triangle crap. Not now, when my dad needs me, not ever.”

“Love-triangle?” His mouth twisted on the sides, and hinted at a taunting smile.

I rolled my eyes and began to turn back around, but he was at my side. Inches from me he towered over my head and his eyes sliced down into mine.

“Please.” I whispered, my voice faint in the cool night air.

“If you want me to leave, then say it, tell me out loud that you don't believe me and that you want me to go.”

My heart fluttered inside of me as I searched for the words.

“I don't believe you.” I finally replied.

“And?” His voice sharp as he leaned in even closer.

“And--” I formed my mouth to say the words, but 'I want you to go' just wouldn't come out, and I hated myself for it. I flinched with anger.

Fire danced in his eyes and the side of his mouth pulled again.

“Her name is Helena.” He finally said, after moments of silence passed. “She let me in on a bit of information, but not before I took her out and bought her a few drinks. She's got a pretty twisted sense of fun and a not-so-secret crush on every guy she talks to.” He let another moment pass. “I should have told you.”

“I already told you that what you do with your spare time isn't any of my concern.” I said, regretting it a little after it had already fallen from my lips.

“Wasn't. It wasn't any of your concern until I made it your concern, and now, I will let you know before I take a girl out to a club and buy her drinks.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I won't take a girl out to a club and buy her drinks at all.” He corrected.

“So what did she tell you?” I continued, trying to ignore the still-existing knot in my gut.

“We can't talk about it here,” he looked around like someone might be behind us, “Let me take you home, I told you it's not safe for you to be out like this.”

“I came with friends, they'll be mad if I ditch them again. I'm going home with them.” I tried to sound convincing. As much as I wanted to believe him, I still wasn't comfortable with the idea of leaving here with him and letting him win.

“Fine, then I'll meet you at your house tonight.” Together we strode to the opening of the alley that pointed towards the parking lot of the building, where music spilled from the front doors. He leaned in to kiss my cheek and I pulled away quickly, letting him know that he wasn't off the hook just yet. He shook his head at me and began to step away. “Be safe.” I heard him whisper before he was gone down a different alley.

When I was back to the front door and through the ropes, I met Olivia at the same place as when I'd left, just as the band left the stage for intermission.

“Geez, what took you so long?” Olivia asked as I met her side.

“The bathrooms are downstairs and there are too many people here to do anything efficiently.” I said, hoping she'd buy it.

From behind her, Conner approached, smiling when he saw our group.

“Hey guys,” he greeted us coolly. “You like the band?”

“Um, duh!” Olivia hugged him then punched his shoulder. “Thanks for not telling us, jerk!”

“I didn't need any more reasons for you guys to make fun of me for something.” He joked.

“Don't worry,” Josh chimed in, “we're all still too caught up on your prom date to give you crap about this.”

Conner ran his fingers through his hair nervously, then looked up to me.

“Hey, Case.” He smiled.

“Heya.”

“You look great, as always.”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

“Thanks.” I finally answered.

“Listen, thanks again guys.” He patted Josh on the back, “I'll see you at school.”

He looked behind him and surfed carefully through the crowd, disappearing back behind the stage. We all watched silently until he was gone.

“Anyone else wanna ditch?” Olivia said, looking back at us.

Though I wasn't necessarily ready to go home to my big empty house, I was just as over this event as the rest of them. So we all headed back to the car.

. . .

At home I kicked my heels off and changed into black terry-cloth sweats and a tank. I was in the kitchen peeling an orange when my cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Casey, it's Barb.”

A breath of relief escaped me, “Oh hi!” I answered, excited to hear her voice on the other end.

“Sorry I'm not to the house yet, I've had my grandchildren in town for the weekend from Texas and they've been quite a handful.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. I'm fine here.” I could hear little kids screaming at one another in the background.

“I'll be there tomorrow afternoon to drop by your dinner, but I'm afraid I'm going to have my grand kids until Tuesday.” She sounded exhausted.

“Don't worry about dinner, Barb. I'll pick something up after school, okay? Just have fun with them and I'll see you Tuesday.”

“Thank you so much!” She exclaimed.

“No, problem.”

“Oh, and Casey, one more thing, have you heard from your father? I tried calling his office yesterday to check on his trip status but never heard back.”

And that's when I remembered my conversation with Claire. She'd said, last night on the phone, that she'd talked to my housekeeper and that he would relay news to me. Quickly my brain began tossing ideas about who the caller on the other end of Claire's call could have been. Whomever she had talked to knew that I had a housekeeper, knew that my dad was out of town, and didn't think I'd be calling Claire last night to ask about my dad.

“No, I haven't heard from him in a few days.” I finally answerd.

“Hmph, well, I hope everything as alright.” She spoke my worried thoughts into words.

“Yeah...” I mumbled, “me too.”

A child in the background of her phone began wailing loudly in pain.

“Oh, boy, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later, Casey. And go to bed it's a school night!”

“I will, Barb. Goodnight.”

I clicked my phone off and tossed it to the counter next to my half-way peeled orange and took off through the kitchen. I rounded the corner through the grand dinning hall that stretched to a side hall of the house that led to where my dad's office was. I flicked the lights on and sat down at the desk. I wasn't sure what had come over me, but I was bent on trying to figure this out. I turned the computer on and while I waited for it to wake from hyper-sleep, I went over the fact. My dad left a week and a half ago to go on what he called a business meeting, before he left he gave me a card and told me not to open it until my birthday, that card got stolen from my house by Abel then attempted to be stolen by a different unknown intruder. On the night that I was supposed to go to prom with Abel my car blew up, we stayed in a hotel and he told me about his job (which simply was to assist a man with clear intentions of harming me and my dad) and he also let me read the card my dad gave me. That same night I called my dad's secretary who told me that my dad's trip was going to be extended and that she talked to someone who she thought was my housekeeper, but in fact, was not. In the midst of it all, somehow this all tied back to my mom's death. I sat there for a moment, quite dumbfounded and at a loss. Nothing made sense, and as the time went on, the more information I found out, the less I could make any sense of it at all.

I clicked the internet open on the desktop and searched through my dad's history. He'd recently looked at sites about self defense and security, and before that was at a website about name-changing. But then I came across links that went to old newspapers. There were articles about Washington the year my mom died with headlines that read:

Man gets away with murder.

The article showed non-graphic pictures of my mom's legs sprawled out on the floor and her hair laying perfectly straight down her body. I winced with pain that tingled through me like lava. In all of my years of knowing that my mom had been murdered, I'd filed the information far back into my mind and forced myself never to ask questions. Doing so, I'd never been this close to any of the information from the night she died, until now. The pictures, though vague, burned in my mind like a branding of a bull. How had I gone so long without seeing them? Torn between hating this feeling and wanting to know more, I scrolled on. The article talked about witnesses admitting to hearing her scream loud that night while others suspected her secretive husband to be the hand to do it. Thinking back, the best my young memory would allow, I knew there was no such screams to be heard the night she died, and if I was to be honest with myself, I remember that my dad had been out of town for work that whole week. There were statements taken from people in town that knew my parents well, one of them named, was someone I recognized well, Frank Clark, Debbie's dad.

“A family friend by the name of Frank Clark says he wouldn't put it past Robert (the victim's late husband) to commit such a crime. As children the two would take part in various youthful crimes, as the witness called them, that were all ideas of the suspect's.” The article was crude and to the point. “Clark stated that Robert was a man of few words but full of much anger that he often saw taken out on his wife and young child (