Duality: Vol 2, Euphoria (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (21 page)

“Uh, yeah,” I said, standing up.  I left Rae on the floor.  “I’ll be right back.”  I walked away, returning to the back of the store where the healthy stuff was.  After grabbing the same kind of box we already had, I turned to go back to the front of the store.  I was in a perfect position to see the main door open and the detective with the SUV come in with another man.  This other guy was taller.  His eyes roamed the store, and I ducked down just in time to miss being seen.

Holy shit!  Rae!
  I ran to the end of the row and moved two aisles over, hoping to see her down at the other end still on the floor.  Maybe she’d have a chance of not being seen if she were still there, since the view of that spot was blocked by displays near the front door.

The bags of candy were still on the floor, but she wasn’t. 
What the …?

“Hello, we’re with the Chicago police.  Did you see two teens come in here, a guy and a girl, brown hair for both of them, about eighteen years old?”

“Uhhhh … maybe,” said the stoned cashier.  “Not sure.”  He was fiddling around with something on the counter near the register, not even looking at the men.

“Did you or didn’t you?” said the other voice.

He looked up and finally acknowledged them.  “Dude, I already told you.  I’m not sure.  It’s been really busy today.”

“Yeah, right.”  The man walked over, pulling something out of the inner pocket of his jacket.  “Here’s my card.  Call me if you see them in here in the next hour.  They’re in the neighborhood.  Don’t approach them, just call.”

The clerk took the card and examined it closely.  “Whoooa, are they like dangerous or something?”

“Yes.  They could be.”

“Whoooa, dude, no way.  Like, axe murderers or something?  No, wait.  Not axe murderers.  Bank robbers!  Yeah, bank robbers.  There are banks all over the place here, man.  One on every corner.  The Man, just taking all our dollars and turnin’ ‘em into pennies, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Jesus, kid, lay off the weed.”  The cop who tried to question us earlier paused and then addressed his friend.  “We’re not going to get anything out of him.  He’s not even in tune with his own brain.  It’s just mush in there.”

“Whoa, dude.  Harsh,” said the clerk, his expression pure offense.

They left without another word, a bell banging and clanging against the door when it shut.

“Dicks,” the cashier said at their backs, just before starting to whistle like one of the seven dwarves.

I ran up to the front of the store and searched the immediate area, looking for Rae.  I nearly had a heart attack when she popped up from behind the photo developing machine at the end of the counter.

“Holy crap, Rae.  I didn’t see you there.”  I rested my hand on my chest, feeling like I had to keep it there so my heart wouldn’t leap out from between my ribs.

“Whoa, jumpin’ jack flash it’s a gas, gas, gaaaaasss,” said the cashier, catching sight of her just after I did.  He was laughing at his own joke, barely able to talk.  “I toootally didn’t even see you there, chica.  Were you there the whole time, just hangin’ out, or what?”  He suddenly focused on the photo developing machine.  “Oh, hey … you need help with developing some pictures?  I got skills in that area if you need me.”  He looked at us expectantly, his half-closed eyelids making him appear to be falling asleep standing up.  “I can totally do it all discrete and shit … if you have pictures you don’t want people to see.”  A lazy smile lit up his face.

Rae just stood there, mesmerized or something, maybe embarrassed that the guy thought we were developing naked pictures of each other.  “Nah, man.  But thanks for offering.”  I threw the bags of candy and the squashed box of breakfast bars on the counter.  I’d left the other one somewhere behind me, losing it in the heat of the moment.  “This is all.”

He ran the scanner over the bar codes and then pressed a button on the machine.  After standing there completely still for a full ten seconds, he said, “That’ll be nine bucks fifty-eight.”

After counting out the change and handing it to him, I bagged the stuff up, taking the receipt he offered.  “Thanks.  For everything.”  The guy didn’t have to help us out, but whether he realized it or not, he had.

“Hey, man, it’s all good, right?  Power to the people.”  He raised up a fist halfway and then let it drop.  “By the way … The Man’s out there lookin’ for ya.  Better watch your six.”  He pushed the business card he’d taken from the cop over in my direction.  His eyes opened wider for a second and he winked at us.

I took the card from the counter, gratitude filling my every pore.  “Thanks, man.  Seriously, thanks.  That was really cool.”

“Yeah, man.  Cool.  We’re all cool.  D’ya need anything else?  Some weed maybe?  Some X?”  He grinned at Rae, making me think he might have taken both at some point this morning.

I shook my head, smiling, since Rae didn’t seem capable of speech right now.  “No, but that’s nice of you to offer.  See ya.”  Rae’s hand slipped into mine.  It was cold and clammy.

“Later, tater,” said the clerk, waving at us.  “After a while crocodile.  See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya…”  His various goodbyes followed us out the door as we did our best to blend into a group of people moving down the sidewalk, our destination the corner where a couple of taxis were parked on the side of the road.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Rae

WE WERE RIDING IN THE back of a cab, headed to the apartment when I finally got my voice back.  Everything had happened so fast back there I’d gone temporarily speechless.

“Who were those guys?”  I looked at Malcolm, noticing he had a worried expression on his face.  I was glad to not be the only one freaking out.

“I have no idea, other than what it says on their card.”  He held it out so we could both look at it.

Matthew Brinkley
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“That’s it?  No company name?  No title?”  This made no sense.  “He’s not really a cop, is he?”

Malcolm shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  Maybe he is, but I agree … this is messed up.”  He turned the card over; the back was blank.  When we got out of the car five minutes later, he shoved it in his back pocket.

The cab driver dropped us off in the underground parking garage and we rode the elevator up to our floor.  Malcolm unlocked the door as quietly as he could and we went inside, both of us going directly to our bedrooms and pretending we were waking up from a nap.

The sound of a cell phone ringing had both of us running from our rooms.  I got there first.  Looking down at the screens to figure out which one was ringing, I noticed that both of them had missed calls. 
Oh, crap.
  I opened the one that was buzzing.

“Hello?”

“Where have you been?” said the male voice on the other end of the line.  I didn’t recognize it.

“Taking a nap?”

“Bullshit.  You were seen outside.  Did you have anything to do with that bombing?”

My jaw dropped open as the shock went through me.  Someone actually thought we could have something to do with a bombing?  Like we actually
did
the bombing?

“Hello?  Did you hear me?”

“Uh … yeah.  Yes,” I stammered.  “And no, we didn’t do any bombing, are you crazy?”

“We know you didn’t do the bombing, but were you involved?  Did you see anything?”

My heart dropped.  “Maybe,” I said weakly.

A string of cussing and ranting followed, most of which I missed since the phone wasn’t exactly near the person’s mouth anymore.

“Rae?”  A woman’s voice came on the line.

“Yes.  Is this Mrs. Butts?”

“Yes, it is.  So what’s going to happen is this:  Stay calm, take the cell phones, and go hide in the closet in the bigger bedroom.  There’s a false back panel in there you can get behind.  The latch is on the floor under a box that’s in there.  It’s not a panic room, but it’s better than nothing.  Stay together.  Don’t make a sound.  We’ll send someone as fast as we can.”

“What?!”  I looked at Malcolm, my eyes bugging out of my head.

“What’d they say?” he asked, stepping closer to me.

“Mrs. Butts, I don’t understand,” I said, gripping the phone so hard it made my hand hurt.

Her voice went serious, almost cold.  “You left the apartment.  You’ve been seen by someone who wants to get their hands on you.  We have to try and get to you first.  We didn’t know this before, but apparently they have a strong presence in Chicago.  Had we known that, we never would have sent you there.”

“But who is it?” I asked, confused and scared and angry at myself for leaving.  What a stupid thing to do for sushi and condoms of all things.

“We’re not sure. We’re working on finding out, though.  Just get in the closet and stay safe.  If they get to you first, do what you can to stay together, but if you have to … and I hate to say this … separate and use your influence to get away.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean,” she said, frustrated with me.  “Use your power over people to get away.”

I handed the phone to Malcolm, not wanting to hear any more of it.

“Hello, Mrs. Butts?” he said.

I wandered into the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Yeah, this is Malcolm.  What exactly is going on?”

I came back into the front hall, trying to listen in on what she was saying to him, but all I could hear were mumbles.

“And who are these people?”  He frowned while the answer came over the line.

“Why us, though?  And why the bomb?  What’s that got to do with anything?”  He shook his head slowly from side to side for the next minute or two, listening to whatever Mrs. Butts had to say.

“Okay, fine.  We’ll go in the closet for now.  But after this we want a full explanation.  I know you’re helping us, but it’s kind of not cool letting us run around only knowing half the story.”  He nodded a few times before hanging up.  “Okay.  Bye.”

He hit the red button and slid the phone into his front pocket.  “Come on. We have to get into the closet.”  He sounded resigned to our fate.

I took the other phone off the table and picked up the bag of stuff we bought at the store, following him into the bigger bedroom.  “What’d she say?”

“I’ll tell you in the closet.”

After taking a quick bathroom break, we went into the bigger room and fumbled around inside the closet until we found the button that would release the latch on the false back wall.  Swinging the small door in revealed a space just big enough for about three people sitting down, possibly four if they were standing.  They’d have to be dwarves, though, because the space was only about five feet high.  Malcolm had to practically bend in half to get inside.

I jerked a string hanging from the low ceiling and a lightbulb went on, the wattage so weak it only managed to put out a faint orange light.

Malcolm pulled the door shut and latched it from our side.  It didn’t look strong enough to stop anyone who was really determined to get in, but it was better than nothing at all.

“What’d she say?” I asked once we were settled with the candy bag and water bottle between us.

“She said that they picked up some transmissions and conversations about us and that bomb.”

“I don’t get how they’re related at all, except that we saw the guy do it.”  I flicked the bags of candy in front of me absently, trying to make the connection in my head.

“She didn’t give me all the info, there wasn’t time … but she said that apparently someone was supposed to do that bomb thing without anyone seeing, but that something we did screwed it all up.”

“All we did was see the guy.”

“I think that’s the point.  Like no one was supposed to see him.”

“That makes zero sense!” I said, immediately embarrassed that I’d yelled.  “Zero sense,” I whispered.

Malcolm nodded.  “Want to know what I think?”

“Of course.”  I reached over and took his hand, making him smile.

“When you saw that guy with the bomb, did you notice that he kept looking at us and getting mad?  Like we were giving him a hard time or something?”

“Yes.  That’s what it seemed like to me too.”

“Maybe we did something to mess up his plan,” said Malcolm.  “Maybe just us being here messed it up somehow.”

“What about those other two guys … do you think they were really with the police?” I asked.  Now that we knew there was some kind of behind-the-scenes chatter about us, everyone was looking suspicious to me.

“No, I don’t.”  Malcolm stopped and cocked his head, going silent for a few seconds.  “Did you hear anything?” he whispered.

“No,” I whispered back, straining to hear but getting nothing other than our breathing.

“Anyway,” he continued, speaking in very low tones, “I think that bomber guy knew we were there and that we weren’t like other people.  And it’s possible those two guys in the SUV were with him.”

Something the second man in the SUV said in the store sparked in my memory.  “Do you remember that guy in the store?” I asked.  “What he said about the clerk?”

Malcolm frowned in concentration.  Then he shook his head.  “No.  I was a little too freaked out at the time to really think about what they were saying.  Sorry.”

“He said something, I can’t remember the exact words, that made me think he was in the guy’s head.  Remember?  He said something like he wasn’t getting anything, that it was mush in there.”  I shook my head.  It sounded so crazy, I couldn’t believe I was actually saying it out loud.

“Okay, so if he was in that guy’s head, how come he wasn’t in ours?  I mean, how come he didn’t know we were there in the store if he can see in heads?”

“I don’t know.  I think …”

Malcolm grabbed my arm and squeezed it a little, putting his finger to his lips.  He shook his head and pointed at the door.

I reached up slowly and pulled on the string, clicking off the light and making the little space go black.  Listening carefully, I was able to pick up the sounds of something other than our breathing. 
They’re here!

Muffled voices came from somewhere out in the bedroom or the hallway possibly, there was no way to know for sure.  The louder they got, the more I squeezed Malcolm’s arm.  He pried my hand off when the nails started digging into his skin.