He’s going to toy with me and then kill me.
Larke managed a weak nod. She then shot a furtive glance over her shoulder, making a mental note of the faint light inside the bowling alley. Someone might still be in there. If she made a run for it…
Preparing to do just that, she drew in a muted breath and held it in as her tormentor opened his mouth. His relaxed demeanor showed her the pleasure he took in knowing she had no choice but to stay put and listen to him, and the words he uttered next, confirmed what he truly was.
“That nigger you were standing next to in there.” He jerked his head toward the bowling alley. “You screwing him?”
Her mind went blank. It had been one thing knowing he was a white supremacist based on his tattoos, but to hear those actual hateful words. Her head and heart began to ache all at once. How was she supposed to react to this? If she lashed out or tried to lecture, surely it would send him into arage with her being on the receiving end.
Larke swallowed hard, forcing air into her lungs. A thought struck her. Maybe she was simply caught up in something Kevin did. If so, she wanted no part of it. “If this is about Kevin, you need to know we’re only friends. If even. We had a few classes together at the community college, but that’s all. I really don’t know much else about him, if you thought I had information to give you.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you fucking him? Yes or no?”
Larke gaped, nearly stumbling on her shock. Was he serious? He was staring at her intently. So apparently, he was. She shook her head. “No.”
He relaxed his stance, seemingly satisfied with her answer. Larke bit the inside of her cheek, silently praying he’d leave now and allow her access to her car. The man held firm, not budging an inch. He scraped a long finger against his square jaw, scratching in a distracted manner while holding her hostage within his sight.
Against her better judgment, Larke took the time to study his appearance. Despite his terrifying demeanor, he looked young. His eyes were a deep shade of blue and his light brown hair was cut short but not buzz cut low. If she had to guess his age, she’d peg him to be in his mid-twenties. Not much older than herself.
Once again, Larke cast a furtive glance at the bowling alley. Her heart sank at the unexpected darkness. All the lights were now off. Taking a chance, that maybe just maybe, this guy had gotten whatever information he’d wanted from her, she asked nicely. “Can I get to my car, please? My parents are waiting for me. If I don’t get home soon, they’ll start to worry and come searching for me.” God, how she wished her momwasactually alive and waiting for her.
“Your father’s waiting for you too?”
Larke grimaced. Of all the questions... She tried not to flinch and continued staring at him, wondering if he’d recognized her for the awful liar she was. Taking a deep breath, she doubled down. “Yes, my father too.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “I thought he lived in Missouri.”
In that moment, her heart skidded to the center of her throat. She squinted her eyes.What?That single word was the only thought her mind could frame because impossible as it was, time itself no longer mattered. Felt as if it had been erased.
Larke stared at the man in front of her. She pushed her fear from earlier to a far recess of her mind then allowed herself time. Time to survey this racist who had cornered her outside the parking lot of a fucking bowling alley. She searched his eyes and his features. She analyzed even his voice, hearing him inside her head in a way she’d never thought to before.
Not much older than myself.
She heard her younger self talking, trying to figure out the boy who refused to acknowledge her presence beside him.“Why do you have that knife? You’re just a kid. Not much older than myself. I bet you took it from your daddy and he doesn’t know.”
Feeling like a first-class idiot, she dared to ask a question for which she already knew the answer. “How do you know where my dad lives?”
Awaiting his reply, Larke scoured her gaze on him. This couldn’t be Chase. It couldn’t be him, her mind screamed. The tattoos… Placed right there on his arms for the world to see his hate and true colors.Please let this be a joke. A mistake. She didn’t want this sick individual who had used an evil slur to describe Kevin and had outright demanded to know about her sex life, to be the boy she knew. This was not how Chase was supposed to be. Not the way she’d imagined him.
Over the years, he should’ve realized racism was wrong. Maybe even talked to his family about it and… And nothing. Larke shook her head, feeling foolish, disappointed and heartbroken. No wonder he’d never tried to contact her. He hated her for the one thing she’d had no control over. Her race.
Seconds ticked by without an answer fromChase.It didn’t bother her. His answer no longer mattered. She loosened her fingers around the phone, vaguely aware of it slipping and falling into her bag.
“You’re not gonna try and run?” He eyed her with suspicion.
Larke shook her head weakly. “No.”Shefelt weak. Shell-shocked. “I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time I ran from you. It didn’t do either of us any good.”
“Sure didn’t,” he muttered, his gaze resting on her face.
Larke rummaged through her mind for something to say. She was leery and uncertain of where all of this was headed seeing as he’d yet to make a threatening move toward her. She surveyed his hands, which were empty and asked with a hint of sarcasm that was meant to garner a reaction, anything to reveal his intentions. “Did you leave your knife at home this time?”
His lips slanted into a taunting smile. “I think I can handle you without one.”
Larke sighed. Everything about him felt like a slap in the face. This wasn’t how it should be.You were supposed to have been my friend,Larke silently yelled. How sad that she was now standing here wondering if he would ultimately harm her once he grew tired of their banter.
“Chase.” Saying his name felt like an oddity to her tongue, as if he didn’t even deserve to have her acknowledge him with a name. “Isthere anything for us to talk about?” She held out her hands, palms up. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m still black. When you insulted Kevin a while ago, you also insulted me.”
She stood there, patiently awaiting his answer. His attention shifted to across the parking lot and Larke followed, both watching as Dave the clerk spotted them and began scurrying to his car on the opposite end. He was pretending not to have seen them. Her, a black female being harassed by the white supremacist he’d spoken to earlier. Again, her stomach twisted. Didn’t he care that she might need help?
