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Larke was on a winning streak. Well, she wassupposedto be on a winning streak. And it would’ve been fine, if she didn’t have to deal with Kevin her date, finding any and every excuse to put his hands on her. Mainly on her bottom. Still…not even Kevin and his fast hands could kill her happiness.
Agreeing to her friend Riva’s suggestion of an evening out bowling had been as much about spending time together as kicking back and celebrating the green light she’d received to continue her successful Little Badger children’s book series.
Larke stood, taking note of Riva’s boyfriend Jason attempting some sort of super bowling maneuver that he claimed was guaranteed to deliver a strike. When the stunt utterly failed and he ended up flat on his butt, she threw her head back and laughed, even harder as Jason scrambled to get back on his feet while trying to play it off like nothing happened.
“That’s funny, Larke?” he asked, playfully scolding her. She grinned and raised her hand, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. Larke paused in mid-action, suddenly realizing she was the only one grinning. She became all too aware of the eerie silence that fell across the floor. Puzzled, she noticed Kevin shaking his head in disgust. She followed his gaze and stopped.
Oh. Now she understood. A sliver of dread wedged itself in the pit of her stomach. Standing in front of the clerk’s desk was a man. A monster actually, though not in terms of possessing an ugly face. No. This was something else. Something that sickened her and represented so much that was wrong in the world today.
Even worse, his attention was centered on her and her friends. Mostly her. Because she was the darkest? Laughing too loud? Fear skidded across her skin and burrowed deep. And yet…she couldn’t help but stare the way rubberneckers did while annoyingly holding up traffic.
Just look away.She couldn’t. A bevy of emotions compelled and paralyzed her, leaving her with no choicebutto look at him. The man was tall, much taller than the clerk who was the same height as her five feet six inches. Dave–the clerk stood and his head barely reached the top of the other man’s wide chest.
But it wasn’t this guy’s height that stood out or the way his body appeared to be carved from solid rock. No, it was the horrible, disgusting tattoos covering the length of his bare arms. On one hand, Larke and just about anyone else who took a close look, could make out the words, ‘White Pride’ inked vertically and stopping at his wrist. Further down, on the back of that same hand was the Celtic cross, which she recognized as a symbol of racial hatred. It ran all the way down then tapered off into curved lines that laced toward the edge of his knuckles. From what she could see of his other hand, it was also covered in tattoos. No doubt, those were racist symbols too.
Beside her, Riva nervously asked, “Do you think we should leave? I mean the place is closing soon anyway?” Larke could see the trepidation on her friend’s features and understood. Riva was originally from India. It was well known that white supremacists weren’t big on immigrants. Unless they were well, white, she supposed.
Larke never had the chance to answer her friend. Kevin mumbled his annoyance, “Forget him. We came here to bowl,” he whipped his hand in the direction of the desk, “not stand around staring at some fucked up klan-boy.” He turned to Larke and grinned, seemingly impressed with his remark then slapped her on the bottom.
This was the third time he’d done so tonight. Fists curled and trying so hard to maintain her composure, Larke gritted her teeth. “I’d like for you to move away from me, Kevin. Because the next time you touch me, I’m not sure if the bowling ball will strike the pins or your head. It could honestly go either way.” She stepped away, counting her blessing that she’d driven here alone and not with him.
Her game suffered for the rest of the time. Larke wasn’t a big bowler and rarely even went out on dates, but tonight had been going great until her mind became frazzled and dazed. She could no longer focus on the game or enjoy the time away from her apartment.
Her twenty-two-year-old mind was centered on another time and place. A bad place. When she was nine and deep inside the sinkhole with Chase. They’d spent a cold night huddled together beneath the sweater she’d grabbed from her mom’s car, because her own clothes were scattered or unpacked after the move. Despite so many years gone by, she had never forgotten that angry white boy or the things he’d told her.
That man could very well be a member of Antebellum Resistance, the hate group Chase’s family belonged to. Maybe he even lived around or in Lee’s Fortress. She’d been there once, driven through it with her mother some years ago. The town had appeared semi-rundown. Neither Larke nor her mother had wanted to venture farther inside the racist community, despite her fanciful dreams of seeing Chase and recognizing him. Why? She hadn’t been sure. Perhaps to see what became of him. To know he’d turned out fine.
Through the corner of her eye, Larke could see the man exiting the building. The room itself seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Over at the desk, the clerk who earlier appeared to have been on the verge of hyperventilating, issued everyone a tepid smile then pretended to busy himself by shuffling around a stack of paper.
The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a daze. The relaxing night she’d been looking forward to all day long now felt ruined. Tainted. It was hard to concentrate on the conversation around her in between rounds of bowling. She’d even ended up yelling at Kevin again when he’d accidentally touched her. She hated yelling or being angry. Nothing good ever came of it. Larke was known by the few friends she had as being calm, always happy and trying to keep others around her feeling the same.
But after the racist guy left, it became almost impossible to pretend any sort of calm. Her mind refused to let go. Kept going back to the evening she’d stupidly taken the wrong city bus after school because the school bus’s route didn’t include her area. Her mother’s schedule as a nurse had been rearranged for that day so the afternoon before they’d gone over exactly what Larke needed to do to get home. At the time she hadn’t thought it a big deal and had been so sure she could handle the short bus ride from the school to her house, where she’d wait at an elderly neighbor’s until her mom got home. It all went so wrong.
Larke sighed, shaking herself from the memory of Lee’s Fortress. She needed her head on right for the drive home. In the hurry to leave the bowling alley, she made it halfway to her car before realizing she’d forgotten her sweater inside. It was a just in case it’s cold sweater. The summer months meant businesses went overboard blasting their air conditioning. A quick run inside and she was able to grab the cardigan from the clerk’s desk.
For a second, Larke was tempted to ask the clerk—who, thankfully didn’t seem as shaken as he did before—if people like that man frequented the bowling alley. She didn’t. First, she didn’t want to risk the look of terror she’d seen on his face earlier and second, she had absolutely no plans of returning here. If the white supremacist hadn’t been there to bowl like everyone else, she didn’t want to begin contemplating what the other reasons could be.
Larke made it back outside to the lit parking lot. In spite of being alone, she was relieved to see Kevin had driven off. That had been a disaster, she mused while hurrying to her car. She had almost made it when a figure emerged from behind the corner of the building. Larke froze in her steps. Fear thundered through her. It was the same man from earlier. The white supremacist. Her knees almost buckled as he edged closer to the car and stopped there. Right beside the driver’s side door.
Nerves and adrenaline pumped through her blood, making her nauseous with it. She’d been so close to going home. So close and tonight should’ve been wonderful, not end with her facing down a monster.
Why me?Apart from the obvious. Honestly, why her?
Instincts kicking in, Larke unzipped her handbag and whipped out her phone. She took a careful step backward, then another, all the while contemplating the best exit strategy to safety. Her gaze flashed to the window of the bowling alley. They were closing early tonight and had already started cleaning up when she’d gone inside to retrieve her sweater. Was the door locked? If so, surely they’d open it in response to her frantic banging. She hoped. Prayed.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage. The man was staring at her as if he had all night to stand and watch her squirm. She tightened her grip around the phone inside her now sweating palm. He stepped forward and her mouth went bone dry. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and rough, a deep timbre. “Put the phone away.”
Her fingers tightened like steel clamps around the plastic casing. No way. She was no fool. Still, Larke didn’t trust herself to speak or move. Would he kidnap her? Rape her? They both knew if she were to dial for help, it would never arrive fast enough before he was able to subdue her.
“I–I have money inside my bag,” she said shakily, already dipping a hand into her bag, fishing for her wallet. The sound of her erratic breathing and the pounding of her heart rattled her eardrums.
“Don’t want your money,” he answered. His blue eyes appeared cold and unrelenting beneath the glare of the light. “Not what I came here for.”
Her fingers stilled around the wallet at the note of mockery she detected. Her fear amused him.
