“You!” she proclaimed, giving an outraged shout when I took hold of her and yanked her back before a truck almost hit her, the side mirror nearly clipping her forehead as it drove on. “No, I see you, damn you, I see!”
“Mads,” I growled, trying to pull her back, wondering where the hell she found the strength. I could have torn her away from the street easily, but the strength I would have been forced to use to keep her under control, with how hard she was fighting me,might have ended up with her getting hurt. “Mads, come on, just take a breath and?—”
“You!” she screamed even harder, freeing her arm from my grip to jab her finger toward the far side of the street.
“Mads,” I repeated with a bewildered and alarmed gasp as she almost got free.
Looking back later, I would realize that if he hadn’t moved so quickly, so sharply—guiltily—I might not have paid the slightest attention to anything other than the crazed woman I was trying to hold back from the street. Except he did move too quickly, out of the shadows, ducking his head and making for the corner, his back to Mads and me. Mads continued to shout after him and collapsed to the ground when shock made my grip on her go slack, and I didn’t bother trying to hold onto her any longer.
“No fucking way,” I gaped as he continued walking. “No. Fucking. Way.”
I barely noticed Mads cursing as I darted into the road, a horn blared, and I ran to the other side. Ignoring the furious voice of the driver who I’d probably forced to birth kittens, I ran down the sidewalk. He was turning the corner and looked to be on his phone, but that only made me run faster as I tried to make the corner. I nearly slipped on a piece of trash sitting in a small puddle, catching myself as I slid around the corner, slamming my hand on the ground, ignoring the flare of pain from my palm.
“Levi!” I shouted as the man slid into the back of a car, but I saw him flinch, smacking his head as he got in.
Before I could do much more than run toward the vehicle, the door slammed shut, and the car peeled away from the curb with a harsh squeal of tires. It had been so quick; there was no way it wasn’t a backup plan to get off the street as quickly as possible.
Except it hadn’t been fast enough. I had seen enough to know I wasn’t crazy; I had seen him in the flesh. He had definitelygotten bigger since I last saw him; he was no longer the weedy kid waiting for puberty to fill him out and give him another couple of inches of height, but I had seen his face. It didn’t help that he had turned around in the back of the car before it pulled off, and I had seen his face as confirmation that I wasn’t losing my mind.
Levi was back in Cresson Point.
LEVI
Sitting on the edge of the desk, I stared at the large fish tank, trying to find peace. A rare resource in this life as it was, but even more so over the past few weeks. No matter what I did or how well I did, there was always another problem around the corner. Hell, sometimes it didn’t even lurk around the corners; problems loved to stack on top of one another.
“Tell me,” I said to a large fish I couldn’t identify, “is it wonderful being a fish, or is it just eat, hide, and die?”
The fish did little more than twist and head in the opposite direction. Adding the tank to what had become my office in Cresson Point had been one of my better choices. I had always been fond of watching fish behind glass. The steady movements, the dancing lights that tanks gave to a room, the way the fish seemed completely unaware that they were locked in a little world of safety and food, so long as they were taken care of. It was nice when I was left alone, though the one I’d spoken to was fond of hopping out of the tank whenever it saw the chance. Clearly, he wasn’t as satisfied with his life, but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
That was relatable.
Peering around the room, I wondered if I should have just had my office at the house. This small room was in the middle of the building I’d rented under the name of a company that, while technically legitimate, didn’t actually do any legitimate business. I had chosen the location because it was at the heart of the industrial area of Cresson Point, ironically not all that far from where I’d grown up.
The building had been chosen because it had a room at its center. It meant no natural light or view, but there was nothing worth seeing in that grimy part of town anyway. It also meant it was easier to insulate, along with other precautions to keep anyone from spying on what happened in there. The huge fish tank behind my desk was a way for me to havesomethingbeautiful and relaxing, considering I had figured, and had been right, that I was going to spend more time in that office than the nice little house by the cliffs at the other end of town.
The office was the only part of the building that had been touched by anything other than generic decorations that gave the illusion of a proper business. The receptionist was in my pocket, and I had to admit, he was good at playing a regular working member of society who greeted people. So far, only a couple of people had walked in, and though I hadn’t asked what they’d wanted, they had left after speaking to Reed at the front desk. So long as I kept people like him in my employ, I would have an easier time dealing with the troubles The Family was having.
And just how distracting do you think the work will be? My mother quipped, and I rolled my eyes.You know damn well what I mean. We both know what you’re thinking.
“You know what I’m thinking because you’re just a part of my brain that has gained a mind of its own,” I grumbled aloud since I was alone in the room.
So what does that make you...crazy or desperate?
“Probably a bit of both.”
Or maybe you’re just afraid.
“Of course I am. There’s a lot riding on me. There’s plenty to be worried about and afraid of.”
But that’s not what you’re really afraid of...are you?
“I know where you’re going with that, and I’m not taking the bait. We’re not going to talk abouthim.”
Oh, of course. God only knows you’ve spent years trying not to even think about him. Now that you’ve seen him, you definitely wouldn’t want to talk about him.
“He’s in the past, where he belongs.”
Maybe when you were in Seattle, that counted for something, but it doesn’t count for shit here, does it? You’re in Cresson Point, and it didn’t take you long to start poking around the past, even though you keep talking like you want to leave it in the past. And what did that get you?
