Lost Boy - Ker Dukey Page 0,40
shout back. Footfalls pound the pavement behind me, and Stephan calls out. “Stephan, stay back,” I tell him, holding out my hands.
“What’s going on, Liz?”
“I’m not safe to be around. Please just stay away from me.” Guilt, anger, and fear washes around inside me, tainting my soul.
“I won’t let you push me away.” He shakes his head, a look of genuine concern on his face.
“I’m trying to keep you safe!” I bellow, throwing my hands up in the air, ignoring curious stares from a passerby.
“I don’t need you to keep me safe, Liz. Let me keep you safe. Its women being murdered.”
Women who all know me in some way. He must not be far if he killed her while she was walking Bruno. “Lee, the cat feeder, was murdered because he came to help me,” I choke out, a cold hand squeezing my chest.
“I don’t give a fuck who’s out there. I’m not letting you walk around alone. I just fucking won’t. You can either accept that and let me be the friend you need, or I’ll follow you anyway.”
Tears fall, and a stone lodges in my throat. “I love you. Stephan loves you. This coldness you throw out will push people away. Let us love you.” Charlotte’s words dance in the forefront of my mind, urging me to take what’s offered and give some part of myself in return. Wrapping my arms around him, I sigh into his embrace, allowing myself the comfort, even if having his hands on me makes me cringe internally. I’m so fucking broken, my best friend’s touch makes me recoil, yet Clark’s made me crave more.
“I need to go home to change.” I sniffle, pulling away and swiping my eyes.
With a slight gesture of his hand behind him, he says, “I’ll take you.”
Fifteen
When we finally make it to work, the place is dead. Jeff eyeballs me from across the room where he’s sitting in a booth with a young girl. I round the counter and deposit my coat and purse in the back room. Charlotte is standing at the counter, waiting for me with a scathing glare. “Hey, who is that with Jeff?” I nudge her with my hip.
She smacks her gums together and snorts. “Jailbait by the looks of her, but don’t even try to avoid the ass whooping you deserve,” she hisses, slapping my arm.
“Ouch,” I growl, rubbing where she hit in a circular motion to alleviate the sting.
“Why the hell did you run away?” she demands, fists bunched at her sides.
Closing my eyes, I exhale an exhausted breath. “I freaked out, okay? I’m sorry, I just—”
“Why are you even here?” she cuts me off, looking up at the clock with a raised eyebrow.
“The body…I think I know who it is,” I whisper to her, not wanting anyone to overhear…not that there is anyone to overhear.
“Are you joking?” She steps away from me, not deliberately conscious of it, like her body is using self-preservation.
“I don’t think you should stay at the apartment anymore,” I urge, dropping my gaze to her feet.
She appears to ponder this, looking over at Jeff and the young girl he’s with. “What if it’s Jeff? I can see him turning serial killer because no one bones him.” She wrinkles her nose. Is she serious?
“If it were Jeff, you’d already be dead. Charlotte, come on, I’m being serious.” I pull the notepad on the counter over and begin doodling. Marco.
“Jeff wouldn’t kill me. I gave him a blowy once.” She casually drops that information like she’s talking about making him a coffee, and I almost drop the pen.
“What the hell?” I screech out, gaining Jeff’s and a customer’s attention. I offer a polite smile in apology and drag Charlotte by the arm into the back. “What the hell?” I gag.
She shrugs. “Who do you think covered our rent last month?”
Ew. “Charlotte,” I breathe, bringing her into my body for a hug. “I caught him jerking it in his office once.” I cringe. How the hell could she go near his junk—and with her mouth?
“I caught him jerking it in his car out back,” she counters, and we both break into a fit of giggles that turn into weird fits of laughter and crying, emotions swirling like the current of a turbulent ocean.
“You never have to do things like that. We will figure that shit out together. I’ll borrow the money from my aunt if we have to.” I sniffle, wiping my nose with a napkin.
She pulls back, swiping the