Page 6 of Memories of You

It’s a rhetorical question; I know perfectly well whathappened. We’d lost track after his mom dragged them all the way from the SantaClarita Valley to Houston. And, to be painfully honest, we’d started to driftapart even before that, a sad fact for which I blame myself since by that timeI’d developed an honest-to-goodness crush on him. And, of course, was avoidinghim completely.

It wasn’t hard. I was a techie hanging out in the STEM wing,and he was suddenly ridiculously popular, what with the athletics and his seriouslyawesome looks. Which, of course, means he barely noticed how little I wasaround. After all, he practically had a harem of girls who’d matured a hell ofa lot faster than me.

If I sound bitter, it’s only because I was. At the time Iblamed him. Now I know I was a shitty friend.

Maybe we would’ve found our footing again, but then theyleft for Texas. After that, we had a few calls and emails during high school,then just sort of lost touch. I knew that Renly had joined the military, butonce I got sucked into college and work, I lost complete track of him.

Of course, he lost track of me as well.

Right now, though, none of that matters. I’m too happy tosee him again. This boy who’d been my best friend and my first crush.

“—but what the hell is going on?”

I realize I’ve gotten completely lost in my own thoughts,and I blink up at him. “What?”

Renly’s expression is part concern, part exasperation.“Nikki said there was an emergency—that you were in trouble.”

“Oh!” I whip my head around to Nikki and Damien, who’vecompletely flown from my mind, not to mention the mess on my car that is whathad made me call Nikki in the first place.

“No, no.” I shake my head. “It’s okay. I realized after Icalled that it’s okay. Weird, but not as scary as I’d thought. When you pulledup, I was telling Nikki and Damien that I’d cried wolf too early.”

“And I was pointing out that just because it’s fake doesn’tmean it wasn’t intentional,” Nikki says, her mouth curved down into a frown.

“Fake?” Renly repeats. “Fake what?” He moves over, shiftinghis angle enough so that he can see the hood of my car. I follow him, grimacingwhen I see it again. The horrible mess of red goo smeared all over the hood.“What the hell?” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“I saw it and freaked,” I explain. “I’ve been getting theseweird calls with hang-ups and so I was on edge. I thought it was blood, and Ioverreacted.”

“It is blood,” Renly says, moving closer and thendragging his finger through the goo. “Of a sort, anyway. Corn syrup, dye, alittle soap. A few other ingredients. All adds up to the kind of fake bloodthey use on film sets.” He turns back to me with a grimace. “Guess whoever’sharassing you didn’t have the stomach to actually sacrifice a goat on yourhood.”

I cringe, then hug myself, my joy at seeing Renly fading inthe knowledge that somebody had at the very least, wanted me to think it wasblood.

“It’s not just your car,” Damien says from a few yards away.I hadn’t realized he’d stepped away, but now he’s walking back toward us alongthe row of cars parked parallel to the sidewalk. “Two of the cars between youand the intersection have the same stuff on their hoods.”

Hope flutters in my chest. “So this wasn’t about me? I don’tneed to worry?”

“I want to hear more about these calls,” Renly says firmly.“But if there’s only been a few hangups and no escalation, then you’re probablyokay. The question is—is this goo an escalation?”

“I’d be more concerned if it was only your car. Or realblood,” Nikki says as Damien frowns at his phone screen. “The fact that it’sfake already has me feeling less worried. And now that we know you’re not theonly one, it doesn’t really feel like you’re a target.” She looks at Renly.“What do you think?”

“Probably someone filming a movie nearby,” he says.“Something low budget, with a volunteer PA who decided to get their jollies onafter the filming.”

I look at Renly. “Wow. That’s very specific.”

He shrugs. “I’ve been doing a lot of work on movie setsthese days. I’ve seen a lot of the interns, and I know how college kids can be.Especially if one of them is trying to impress their friends. It wouldn’thappen on a big budget action movie, but someone from one of the film schoolsdoing a short film that needed some fake blood? I can see some idiot on thecrew spreading it around a few cars just for kicks and grins.”

“Good call,” Damien says. “There’s a student crew from UCLAabout three blocks over filming a horror movie. One of their buckets of fakeblood was stolen last night.”

“How do you know—”

He grins at Nikki. “I texted Rachel,” he says, referring tohis executive assistant. “She called the local precinct. The supervisingprofessor reported it. Some folding tables and equipment were also pinched.”

“So it’s just some kid screwing around,” I say, reliefsweeping through me.

“Probably,” Renly says. “To be sure, we’ll pull the videofootage.” He glances at our office building and the others nearby. “I’m notsure any of the security cameras have a street view, but it’s worth checking.I’ll ask Ryan to put someone on it.”

“Perfect,” Damien says as I do yet another mental reset.

“Wait,” I say to Renly. “Ryan? Does that mean you’re…” Itrail off, looking from him to Damien and then back to Renly again. “Holy crap,that’s why you were with Nikki? You’re working at Stark Security?”