Matthew

Author’s Note: Love you guys. ;D Your reviews make my day brighter. Like sunshine. On a rainy day. Yes, I just went there.

 

The sun had already set by the time I dragged my ass to the industrial side of town, to the seemingly normal warehouse towards the end of the block. Most of the area was fenced off, with a rectangular parking lot in the center too large to be logically empty. I used nearby light posts to guide me, at times pausing beneath individual ovals of illumination to regain my bearings.  The loss of blood didn’t leave me untouched, no matter how many times I assured myself I was ‘okay’. I needed a nap, nutrients, but Leah kept screaming for me in the back of my head and I lacked access to pills strong enough to silence her.

There was no way I could scale the fence with my hand in its current condition, so instead of trying I began circling the compound. Though a hole in the wired barrier would have been delightfully convenient, I found none. So I settled down behind a hedge way nestled on the right side of the domain, positioning my body carefully to keep an eye on the street. If they came, I wanted to be ready. If Asher didn’t show up by the time Carter did, I was fully prepared to beg for Leah’s return.

So I waited.

Sleep felt so unimaginable that when I woke up, I didn’t realize what my body had automatically done on instinct until sunlight grazed my face. Having spent a substantial amount of time outdoors, wet from the rain, left not only my throat clogged but my head raging. I swallowed past the pain of swelled tonsils as my torso rocked forward, letting my tired eyes flutter over the open fence.

Past the outline of nearby bushels, I noticed a few men strolling casually into the premises of the warehouse. The idea of an opening elated me so completely that I didn’t notice the nearby approaching shadows until they were cast directly over me. Before I could croak, a man had grabbed me by the collar and jerked me to my feet.

I recognized the bearded face immediately, the eyes that seemed bored when they ran over my face and the lips that drooped. Carter’s henchman dragged me through the guarded fence, past a few confused faces and straight to an open tambour door.  Inside the warehouse, I found small huddles of people in scattered corners, some investigating boxes on the floor while others chattered softly amongst themselves. Mr. Beard led me past a few groups, approaching a smaller cluster towards the back of the warehouse.

“Found him outside,” the bearded man announced, yanking me to a sudden stop.

“Well,” Carter grinned, turning away from an open box to redirect his attention onto me. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Where’s Leah?” I coughed, my throat too scratchy to give me accurate control of my voice.

“More importantly, where is Asher?” he countered.

“He’s coming,” I lied. No, I hoped. “I made the call, just like you wanted. So where is she?”

“Relax, Sunshine. I told you I wouldn’t hurt her, didn’t I?” he paused, smirking with the emitted words as if we shared some sort of inside joke together. “I gave you my word.”

“That’s fine and dandy, but I’d still like to see her.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Give me a reason to,” I challenged.

Grinning at my bravado, Carter tilted his head back a bit and emitted a loud laugh. He looked to one of the men standing near him, as if to ask him if I was serious, but his laughing didn’t cease long enough for the question to come.  “Alright, Sunshine, alright,” he chuckled, “She’s over there.”

He gestured toward a door behind him, barely visible past the aisles filled with pallets on storage racks. I shifted forward, shaking off the bearded man that hardly made an effort to hold onto me. Uncaring of my presence, the criminals allowed it. I held no threat to them, no real meaning, so they barely spared me a glance as I dashed past a group of guards to approach the back room. In my haste to find the missing child, I threw the door open so quickly that the round knob slipped right through my fingers and loudly swung back on its hinges. The light from behind me streamed across the ground in a distorted shape, falling on the frightened princess that had managed to curl herself into a corner.

“Leah,” I gasped.

The kid jerked up in fear, her body shuddering with her surely anticipating the worst. She clutched at her whistle like it was a magical ward against evil, holding it tightly against her chest.

“Shit,” I hissed, running across the stuffy room to wrap my arms around the trembling form. “I’m so sorry, Leah. I’m so sorry.” My voice came and went in shifts, dipping into seas of empty sound where my swelled glands tightened. Ignoring the pang of pain that came with friction, my right hand looped across her back and the other hooked beneath her legs. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll get you out of here. You’re going to be okay,” I chanted, my tone sturdy enough to convince the rest of the world. Problem was I needed to convince myself.

A glance around the room showed no windows, no other doors, just a stifling office packed with boxes and filing cabinets that didn’t seem touched in months. The limited light in the room grew even more deformed when a shadow loomed inside, restricting the amount of detail available. Holding the frightened girl against my abdomen, I peered over my shoulder to the man that had followed me into the room.

“As you can see, she’s just fine. And she’ll remain that way if my dear cousin shows up.”

“You call this fine?” I barked rudely.

“Now, now. What did you expect? This isn’t exactly a suitable environment for children,” he grinned teasingly.

“So let her leave. I’ll stay here in her pl—“

“Nonsense. You two can keep each other company,” he proclaimed.

“And what happens after he shows up? You ki—“ I stopped short of finishing my sentence, giving a glance down to the child huddled against my stomach before deciding to reword myself. “You get rid of us all?”

“I suppose it depends on my mood,” he said. At least he was honest. “For now, let’s say no, but I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“But you’ll let Leah go,” I said firmly, stubbornly, refusing to make my sentence into a question. My throat closed in on me halfway through, forcing forth a cough, but I kept my expression tightly guarded.

Carter emitted a soft chuckle, one of disbelief, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he took a few steps toward me. “Do you have as many faces as you do names?” He stopped a foot away from my corner, where I had gathered Leah into my lap and protectively wrapped both arms around her. “What did Asher call you?” His weight tipped, his knees bent, bringing him down into a predatory crouch that somehow managed to block out more light. “Alex? Matthew? Muffin?”

I winced, turning my head away from him as my anxiety collided with my guilt. Leah squirmed in my lap, where I didn’t notice how tightly I was squeezing her until she released a mewled, “Goombaaa.”

“Ah, yes,” Carter gasped, gesturing to her with one hand. “And Goomba. That’s a new one. Though I rather like Sunshine myself.”

“Now look here—“ I growled, ready to chew his head off, but his interrupting question proved much more interesting than what I had to say.

“Do you think he’ll be angry?” He inquired, flashing me a grin as he leaned closer and dropped his tone. “Ever seen Asher angry?” Carter added secretively.

It wasn’t hard for me to picture, but something told me I had yet to see the man from my past truly enraged. Averting my eyes from the evil cousin, I reached up to carefully cup my hand against Leah’s ear, covering one while pushing the other harder into my chest. If I had the strength, I might have crushed her skull. I wanted to pull her into me, wrap her into my ribcage, to protect her so completely that she’d never know any bad guys existed. I wanted her to be rescued. I wanted magic to exist.

“He’s scary,” Carter suddenly laughed. His voice turned airy, light, holding an eerie sense of excitement that triggered a shudder in my bones.

I believed him.

Behind Carter, Mr. Beard moved into the doorway, casting a thick shadow over the three of us as he fiddled with a device in his hand. He murmured something I didn’t understand, but it seemed to catch Carter’s attention. As the demented cousin threw a subtle glance over one shoulder, his lips twisted into a wickedly satisfied grin worthy of nightmares. “Already?” he gasped, his eyes lighting up when he looked back to me. “I knew you’d come in handy.”

“What?” I snapped. My voice cracked.

“Looks like the show is about to begin. I’ll bring you out for the Second Act,” he snickered. With that, he slipped out of the office and closed the door behind him.

Bile bubbled in my throat, surging up from my stomach with fresh bitterness unknown to me. My joints locked up, beginning a painful tremble in my fingers that drew my limbs closer. The reflexive action brought a yelp out of the body still trapped in my arms, where unbeknownst to me I was once again hugging Leah way too tightly.

“Stop it. That hurts! And you’re too hot!” she shrieked, pushing in resistance at my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, completely unwrapping my arms. My hands arched in, shoved beneath my armpits and smashed against my torso in hopes of gaining some sort of control. It didn’t work. I continued to shake.

Understandably traumatized by her environment, and with me as no help in such a crazy predicament, the little princess began to cry. She slid off my lap, plopping down onto the floor in the frilly dress she had picked out especially for the fair. The fabric was no longer clean, the boots didn’t seem cheery enough, and as fresh rivers of tears ran down the arc of her cheeks I couldn’t find the happy, excited child from the previous morning.

“Leah,” I whispered, unwinding my hands only to thrust them forward. I cupped her face into my palms, once again ignoring how my right hand stung so I could focus on her sanity. Somehow my fear and discomfort didn’t seem as important as her mental stability. “Shh, shh. Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” I pleaded, using my thumbs to wipe moisture off her cheeks. “I told you I’d get you out of here, didn’t I? You’re going to be okay. You’ll see your Daddy again, and Elena, and Uncle Vinny. You’re going to be okay, you hear me? Don’t cry.”

“Liar! Liar! Your stupid whistle didn’t even work!” she wailed accusingly.

“Ah,” I winced, hating how my lie was thrown back into my face in such a hazardous occasion. If only I could try to salvage the situation somehow, to put some light at the end of the tunnel, maybe give her hope, or—oh, wait. “But it did,” I lied, reaching out to grab the toy and lift it. “You blew it, and it brought me to you. I’m here, aren’t I? I heard your whistle, and I found you. Now we just have to blow it again. If we just blow it again, then Uncle—“ Fuck, was Asher her uncle? Did she call him that? Did she even like him? “Then someone will find us.”

“They will?” she squeaked, slowing her tears while her lower lip continued to tremble.

“Yes. Yes, they will. All we have to do is…” I let my voice trail off, instead raising the toy up to my lips and exhaling into it. My sore throat instantly caused my tonsils to itch with the exerted breath, beginning a sequence of coughs that rendered the whistle useless. “Shit,” I gasped.

“I’ll do it,” my brave little German volunteered. She jerked the object out of my grip, placing it on her own little lips before taking an exaggerated, deep breath. What followed was loud enough to make me sway away from her, holding one hand against my ear as the other tried to muffle my coughs. The sharp sound echoed over and over again, bouncing off the walls, the floor, growing louder each time her chest pumped.

Leah blew on the whistle for quite some time before the sound irritated a reaction out of someone inside the warehouse. The office door flew open, instantly causing the two of us to grow tense as we searched for familiarity in the shadow. No such luck. An angry, unknown face glared back at us, panting from what I assumed to be a run for the back room. “You—“ he began in an angry voice, presumably to yell at us for the ruckus, but a sound louder than anything Leah could have produced cut him off. This sound in no way resembled a whistle; it was loud, deafening, and with its vibrations it brought a tremor to the walls.

The man suddenly turned, glancing behind him as a flash of desaturated color filled his aisle. He shouted to someone nearby, dashed out of sight, and another sound came. This sound I recognized.

It was a gun.

“Leah, close your eyes,” I hissed. My arms moved out again, scooping the smaller form into the unfit cradle as I held her against my core. “Don’t look. No matter what, don’t look, okay? Hold onto the whistle and concentrate all your energy onto it. If you open your eyes, the magic spell will be broken. So you can’t open them, no matter what you hear, understand?” She nodded. “Good girl. Now hold on tight.”

As my princess closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around my midsection, I pushed myself off the floor. To my horror, my legs immediately felt too wobbly to support both of us. I was letting my emotions get to me, to cripple me where my common sense should have driven me forward. We needed to get out, to escape the massacre I knew would come. But how could I? It felt so damning to step past the threshold of the office when I knew both opposing parties wouldn’t mind seeing my lifeless corpse.

If it only concerned my own well being, I would have huddled in a dark corner until the roof either collapsed or someone came to fetch me, so I focused on Leah instead. I needed to get her out. To save her. I had to save her. After a moment spared to reaffirm my own footing, I braved venturing to the open office door. The moment I stepped out of the room, into the warehouse, regret smacked me in the chest: along with a wave of heat that seemed tangible enough to make me stumble. I fell into a wall to my right, where I slanted my weight to shield the prized possession in my arms.

Buzzing filled large segments of my brain, bleeding in through my ears and branching out to my frontal cortex. It hurt. The sound hurt. From the right side of the warehouse, my peripherals warned that two guards were running straight at us. Crap, I needed to move, to run, to—wait, where were they going? The men didn’t even glance at me as they darted straight past my huddled, defenseless stance. It wasn’t like I was hiding, my position was rather clear, so then why…? Curious, my eyes followed them, past my corner to the other side of the building.

I stopped seeing things as a whole.

There was a burning box, a broken shelf, and a bent door. A storage rack teetered and toppled over. Fire swept up the inner walls of the warehouse, eating up everything in its way without rhyme or reason. A hand flew past my vision. Another grabbed at my chest. My eyes finally blinked, and this time I followed the tug on my clothes to find Leah screaming, crying, wailing something I couldn’t hear as she shivered against me. The ringing in my ears hadn’t subsided, but slowly the rest of the ambiance joined the shrill wavelength.

Get out, my logic commanded.

Pushing myself forward, I tucked Leah against my side as my legs bolted for the exit. Another explosion rocked the side of the building, momentarily shaking the ground beneath my feet. When I stumbled to regain my footing, one of Carter’s men dove for me. Knowing I wouldn’t have enough time to dodge, I braced myself for the impact, ready to use his momentum to my advantage—but instead of taking me down, the stranger shoved me out of the way of a swaying frame before the heavy object collapsed.

His scream filled the empty space in my head.

Another loud blast shuddered through the warehouse, leading me backward to an unsteady metal shelf as I blindly searched for balance. Smoke thickened the air, devouring oxygen necessary for my brain to proceed with sane decisions. All the fallen racks created a maze I wasn’t sure I could navigate, especially when I felt so turned around. Where was the exit? Leah was beyond mortified, no longer holding onto her whistle but actively blowing on it.  The more chaos burst to life around us, the less confident I became in protecting her.

Alrick would never forgive me.

When the metal pressed against my shoulder blades trembled, I took three hesitant steps forward and nestled myself against a wall. My arms were growing strained, tired from the mass they tried to support. The clutching tension wrapped against my chest made it hard for my desperate lungs to pump. My body released a burst of adrenaline that shot my pulse through the roof, trying to get me motivated enough to move again, but the hopelessness that came with the polluted vapor turned my brain sluggish. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know what to do.

From beyond the smoke and devastating heat filling our perpetual tomb, a shadow loomed into my line of sight. Before I could distinguish between friend or foe, it closed the distance between us, allowing two hands to outstretch and remove the extra weight on my chest. I breathed a sigh of relief, a sensation that lasted about a second before it hit me that the previously mentioned extra weight was Leah.

“No!” I was sure I screamed it, but my own voice didn’t reach my ears. It was strange, then, when the shadow turned back to face me. It paused, almost as if it were waiting, only to shift back into gear once I forced both legs to cooperate with me. “WAIT!”

But the shadow didn’t wait, at least not in the way I intended; Leah continued to drift in the silhouette’s arms, but as I stumbled my way through the labyrinth of fire and hypothetical brimstone, the darkened figure continuously paused. Like it was waiting for me to catch up. Like it was leading me. But to where? I didn’t know. The smoke was getting too hard to weed through, already clouding my lungs as well as my judgments.

Ever the desperate dog, I followed the kidnapper through hell—and straight to a refreshing burst of clean air. I gasped as soon as untainted light came into view, not so much because of any preservation instinct but because of an internal fear that I’d lost track of my little charge. Leah. Where was Leah?

“Help…” a distant voice reached me, slowing my steps.

I lingered on the border of deliverance and damnation, beneath the coiled tambour door, fire at my back while my eyes strained to adjust to outside light. Just a few steps away, a sleek black car pulled up along the parking lot, where the shadow from before confidently approached it. But that shadow wasn’t really a shadow, it was a man. And I knew who that man was, even with the oxygen mask on his face.

“Ash—“

“Help!” the same voice from before came, drawing me back. I tore my eyes off Asher and Leah, choosing to peer towards the carnage inside the warehouse. Not ten steps away from me, Carter lay trapped beneath a fallen metal rack, his hand outstretched toward me. “Fuck, someone get this thing off of me!”

My head rotated towards the car, where I watched Asher gingerly set Leah down on the back seat before slipping in after her. He didn’t even spare me a glance. Not one. The door shut and the vehicle drove off before I could blink. Time caught up with me. The echo of blasts I’d missed came in quick succession, a boom-boom-boom that closely resembled activity at a demolition site. The camera of my vision panned to the right, where a man caked in flames ran screeching out of the fiery remains.

He was screaming for help too.

“SHIT!” Carter yelled again. I latched onto the familiarity of his voice, using it as an anchor to lead both my eyes and mind to safety. He was still stuck beneath the vice of the fallen structure, so close to salvation but restrained from exiting the boiler that continued to burn. “HELP!” he reiterated, but when I locked eyes with him I knew instantly that he wasn’t asking me. The blue gaze fluttered over me, past me, searching for his men in hopes of finding assistance. He already knew I wouldn’t help him. And why would I? After what he did to me? To Leah?

But the anguish on his face tugged on my heartstrings, playing with my humanity. My head swam with an inflow of emotion, rearing me to points of indecision that skewed my sense of right and wrong. With Leah out of danger, my savior complex switched targets. I rushed back to the opening of the warehouse, reaching out to grab the fallen rack; and as soon as I touched it, I regretted the action. Pain shot up from the palm of my damaged hand when it grazed against a pointed edge, prompting me to abandon the metal with a stagger backward. Harsh coughs overtook my throat as smoke continued to poison my lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except removing myself from the scene. Fuck Carter. He didn’t even want my help. What was I—

“OH FUCK!” he yelled, causing a jolt in my body. I glanced down to find flames licking the bottom of his pants, latching onto the cloth in a hungry drive for the body below. Images of Hannah’s bloody remains and Michael’s dead complexion popped into my brain, overwhelming my senses. Would Carter look like them? Would he suffer as they did? I already knew he was a bastard. A criminal. He deserved to die. To suffer. To hurt. Only a crazy person would help him.

Lucky for him, I was clinically insane.

With no more thought of consequences, I tore off my jacket, wrapped it around my hands, and moved forward to retry the action with a new buffer zone. I didn’t count in the damaged condition of my right palm, nor did I thoroughly think through my actions; I merely wedged my shoulder against the metal frame, bent my knees, and hefted my weight to lift the object with me. The adrenaline helped, though my strength left much to be desired, permitting just enough room for Carter to crawl out from under the structure. He propelled himself out into the parking lot, and I hurried to join him.

He immediately disrobed, jerking off the pants still holding flames as ornaments. I cupped one hand against my mouth, continuing to struggle with air as my lungs twitched with spasms. “Why did you…!” Carter practically yelled at me, sounding somewhat outraged. When I tilted my head up to look at him, his voice faded out, replaced by a shocked expression that could do nothing but stare. That was a good question. Why did I?

Ignoring his curiosity, I turned to glance in the direction Asher’s car had disappeared. Leah was safe now. She was in good company. That should have made me happy, so why did I feel so much dread? Why did it feel like the nightmare was just beginning?

Without a word to Asher’s rival, I walked away from the fire burning within the warehouse. Bizarrely, I found myself wondering if it would rain again. I didn’t have money for the bus, so I’d need to walk home. And I was feeling a little hungry. Did I have groceries at my apartment? Never mind the people actively dying behind me, in a pit of fire and falling debris, I was pondering lunch.

In all honesty I don’t know how I found my way out of there. I started hallucinating when I hit streets holding large populations of people—some were on fire, some bleeding from every crevice of their face, some merely growing horns and scales. None of it really deterred me from continuing, blindly walking down familiar routes. I didn’t even know the time of day anymore. When was I? Curious, my eyes rolled up in search of an answer, but I found none. Was the sky always so red?

With my head slanted back, I didn’t see which sort of demons approached me, or for that matter, walked past me. A few knocked into me, though most avoided my body enough to let me continue my stargazing.  It wasn’t until a collision hard enough to rock my center of balance that I finally brought my eyes down.

“Je ne sai—Ah, excu—“

“Matt?!”

My legs trembled violently enough to send me crashing into a store’s display window. The familiar face rushed forward, abandoning his friends to grab me by my shoulder and pull me upright. I furrowed my eyebrows together, attempting in vain to peer past the blurriness to see the man supporting my weight.

“Dude. What happened to you? You disappear on Ash at the fair and then we can’t reach you for two days? Ashley’s worried sick. We’ve been looking all over town for you and calling you nonstop. Why didn’t—Matt? Hey, Matt, you okay, man?” Rick frowned, giving me a little shake when my eyes drifted away from him, over his shoulder, to the oval of the sun no longer hidden by clouds. Oh good, it wasn’t night yet. I still had time for lunch. Would Rick like some lunch? Still beside me, my friend reached out a hand to touch my face, only to recoil with a muffled gasp.

“Jesus, Matt. You’re burning up.”

A glance down at my hands proved him right. I was on fire.

I immediately closed my eyes, too tired to figure out why my skin hadn’t burnt off or why the flames seemed so blue. Beside me, Rick switched his speech back to French, excusing himself with me as valid justification. He said something about temperatures, hospitals, and the others spoke of liquids. I felt my consciousness slip through my fingers, leaving me with yet another stamp of empty darkness where time escaped me.

 

 

 

I woke up once in the back of a taxicab, once in my living room, once in the front seat of a car, once in the bathroom, and once in the bedroom. Each time, one of my friends was beside me, patting my back or shoulder in compassionate attempts to console me. The darkness drifted in like unpredictable tides, washing up the shore of my consciousness as my temperature fluctuated. The swelling of my tonsils ensued violent fits of coughing that managed to wake me up several times, but after Ashley forced some medicine down my gullet the itching eased enough to allow rest.

When I woke up a tenth time, with a killer headache but no longer heated, my eyes snapped immediately to a hunched figure beside my bed. Rick sat in a chair imported from my living room, propped to allow for adequate stretching of both legs. He closed the book in his lap when he noticed that I was awake, a visibly tired but relieved smile touching his lips. “You feel any better?”

“What happened?” I groaned, finding my throat still scratchy and sore.

“Good question. You go MIA at the fair and then I find you outside a FroYo store in the middle of the day, delusional with a fever.  I’d love to tell you, but you’re going to have to share first,” he grunted.

I picked up my right hand, immediately searching for proof of something I didn’t think myself manic enough to imagine: sure enough, a fresh bandage encased my palm, running from the base of my fingers to the curve of my wrist. No. It wasn’t a dream. Carter had—no, Asher had Leah. She was safe, in good hands… at least, for her. But was she okay? I couldn’t help wondering if she was still clutching at that stupid whistle.

“Matt?”

“Sorry,” I sighed, offering a shake of my head. “I don’t remember.”

“You didn’t get into an accident, did you? Your hand was all fucked up. And what about the kid? Ash said you were babysitting.”

“She’s fine,” I answered perhaps a bit too quickly. “Her… guardian picked her up. That’s why I… left the fair early.. because… her guardian called me. So I returned her, and, after that… After that, I don’t remember.”

Though I fumbled and struggled with my lie-on-the-spot tactics, Rick didn’t seem to find my disorientation too strange once my supposed memory loss was added into the equation. He nodded, putting on one of his more thoughtful looks as he tapped a finger against his chin.

“We should get you to a hospital—“

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? Jesus fucking Christ! Vincent tried to take you earlier but he said you threw a fit in the car, screaming about how you didn’t want to go. What if you got into an accident and broke something? What about internal bleeding? We need to get you checked out!”

“No. I’m fine.”

“How would you know? You just said you don’t remember.”

“I remember enough to know I’m fine. I don’t need the hospital.”

“Matt—“

“No.”

I immediately moved to shove off the blanket draped over my form, about to get up when Rick’s hand dashed out to stop me. “Alright, alright. At least let me take your temperature first.”

It was tempting to refuse him again, but since he’d made the effort to take care of me all night I felt like I owed him enough to ease his mind. “Fine,” I sighed, plopping back to the edge of the bed. He pushed his book off his lap, leaning forward to fish out a thermometer from a nearby first aid kit. I opened my mouth expectantly for the little glass tube I thought would come, but instead Rick grabbed a hold of my ear and gently tugged before shoving something inside. “Ow!”

“That’s what you get for worrying us,” he grumbled. The ear thermometer beeped softly against my ear, prompting Rick to remove it so he could read the numbers on the mini screen. “Good, your temperature’s down.”

“Sorry,” I sighed, raising one hand to rub at my ear. “…And thanks. For taking care of me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I need to go get some more soup, but you stay in bed.” Rick stood, moving over to my bedroom door before pausing to throw me a glance. “Hey Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really not remember, or is it something you don’t want to talk about?”

I frowned, furrowing my eyebrows a bit as my stomach tightened. The concern on his face sucked all ability to lie out of me. “I remember,” I whispered.

He immediately sighed a breath of relief, a small smile touching his face as he nodded. “Good. Then I won’t have to drag you kicking and screaming to the hospital. Saves us both a lot of embarrassment.”

I mirrored his smile, but maintained my silence where I should have offered words of consolation. He left after that, taking my keys with him in his outing for groceries. Taking advantage of the silence he left behind, I was about to go in search of my cell phone when I realized it was no longer under my ownership. Damn. I really should have memorized Vincenzo’s number. I couldn’t even imagine what I was supposed to tell the guy. Not only had I technically lost Leah, but I called he-who-must-not-be-named for help. No doubt the Italian would be furious with me.

Left alone with my own thoughts wasn’t as endearing as I hoped; habitual instinct drove me to my medicine cabinet, but not wanting to risk disorientation when Rick returned, I resisted the urge to down any prescribed drugs. Instead, I busied myself with a much-needed shower, a less-needed shave, and was going to start ridding my home of the virus of Christmas when a knock came to the door.

Thank god Rick was back. I really needed some companionship and the fact that Vincenzo hadn’t returned with Alrick in tow was beginning to worry me. If he had called to check in on Leah, with no response from me during the last few days, wouldn’t he be worried? Surely, it meant trouble. Wouldn’t he be running back? For Leah, at least? What if he couldn’t come? Fuck, I didn’t want to think about what trouble might have held them up. So I threw the door open, happy for any sort of distraction.

Except this one.

The cold grey eyes waiting for me on the other side were the last pair I wanted to see. They not only knocked me off my recovering pedestal, shoving me into a black hole, but they managed to boost my heartbeat to an unnatural rhythm. I immediately released the doorknob, taking a few unsteady steps back when the taller form advanced into my humble abode. I shrank against the side of the couch, my head tilted back, eyes unblinking, lips parted in expectation of the worst.

“So this is where he’s been hiding you?” the familiar, calm voice drifted into my ears. It hadn’t changed, not one syllable, not one octave. It was still smooth and eerily steady.

I followed his exploration of my apartment, where one hand migrated from his pocket to touch every surface; soaking up the environment I had imprisoned myself in for the past four years. He carried himself like a prized stallion, shoulders back and head held high, with only the slightest hunch of his arm to account for the extension of his fingers. When he paused by the kitchen doorway to glance back at me, I felt compelled to drop my gaze. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I was deathly frightened of what they might hold.

His exploration eventually brought him back to square one, where he stopped short of colliding into me. The taut body leaned forward at the waist, scrunching the fabric of his shirt where my eyes intently stared in hopes of avoiding his gaze. “Did you think I’d forget you?” he asked, a sentence that might have otherwise sounded sweet, but with that tone and in this situation it came out as more of an insult. His breath brushed my cheek, close enough to beget contact if I so much as tilted my chin up.

Not that I’d dare.

“You have nothing to say to me?” His voice changed in inclination, momentarily losing its calm demeanor as a hint of annoyance entered the mix. I instinctively closed my eyes, pursing my lips together as a preemptive measure to muffle my own scream. While I anticipated my inevitable demise, I heard distinct chatter from afar, growing louder in a beeline towards my home. Rick had seriously bad timing. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t beg for your own life,” Asher hummed.

I flinched, furrowing my eyebrows a moment before I risked a peek upward. He remained dangerously close to me, his face still clad in that robotic expression I knew to be his defensive mask. His words hung in the air, another threat I had yet to decipher, another doomsday warning that didn’t immediately click for me. He wasn’t stating a fact, he was hinting at an event to come. But I didn’t know what it was yet.

I just hoped he wouldn’t kill me in front of my friend.

Outside, Rick’s voice hovered closer and closer, turning from a soft buzz in the background to distinguishable words. “His temperature was 104 yesterday but when I checked in on him earlier he—Oh,” my friend stopped short of the open doorway, phone propped against one ear, mouth open, a perplexed look on his face. I didn’t blame him, from his perspective the scene probably seemed baffling; what with a stranger looming dangerously close to his friend.

Not that I was any less confused from my position. The moment Rick’s voice became clear Asher’s hand had darted out to my forehead, which I didn’t immediately understand. He forced back the curve of my hair, pushing strands off my forehead as he flattened his cooler palm against the skin. I blinked up in surprise, having expected more of a choking gesture than any sort of docile contact. Sure, his hand eventually wandered down to my neck, but instead of settling in a chokehold it only grazed the surface before moving down to my abdomen.

“His fever is gone now,” Rick piped up, his voice causing a jolt in my body. Asher’s hand slowly retracted, his shoulders turning subtly toward the new presence inside my home. Taking that as an invitation, my friend innocently outstretched one hand to introduce himself. “Are you a friend of Matt’s? I’m Rick, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Asher ignored the offered palm, merely giving me one more look over before he turned toward the exit. It took several long seconds for my groggy brain to realize what he’d done, and when it did, my body acted on its own accord. My fingers flew out, grabbing onto the fabric of his sleeve, hooking my touch against the inside of his elbow in a futile attempt to prevent him from leaving. “Wait,” I gasped.

He stopped almost immediately, but his eyes didn’t return to me. They went down to my hand, where his expression tightened the slightest bit out of its neutral phase in disapproving acknowledgment of my action. I opened my mouth to speak, to question him, but before I had the chance he harshly jerked away from me. The sudden movement tipped my equilibrium, swaying me back against the couch as my fingers retracted.

“Whoa, dude! What the hell!” Rick protested immediately, ready to run to my defense. Luckily, he was overlooked as the angry mob boss shoved both hands back into his pockets and strolled into the street. “Who the fuck—”

“He was checking my temperature, wasn’t he?” I interrupted him, propelling myself from the couch arm to wander towards the open door. “What he did just now, he was checking my temperature…” I paused, throwing Rick a glance. “Right?”

“Yeah… Not that it’s a very accurate way of doing it. But like I said, your fever is gone. Who the hell was he, anyway? Does he not understand English, or something? Talk about an asshole.”

I stared after Asher, watching him walk down to the end of the dirt road where the same black car from before waited for him. He popped open the back door, and from my position I caught a flash of dirty blonde in the driver seat before the tinted windows blocked my vision again. The vehicle’s engine roared to life, the lights turned on, and it slowly pulled into drive. He took his leave, once again instilling a sense of dread into the air. But had he threatened and worried about me all in the same minute? For once, I knew I wasn’t delusional. I knew I hadn’t seen wrong. He couldn’t have possibly wanted me dead, or else I’d already be lying in a pool of my own blood—but if that wasn’t it, then what? What did he want?

“Matt? You okay, dude? Come on… get away from the door. The cold air isn’t good for you.”

“Yeah…” I whispered, reaching out to close the door. But I wasn’t afraid of getting another fever.

I was afraid of Asher’s revenge.

 

 

Author’s Note: … So…. MattXCarter, anyone? ANYONE? OH COME ON!

Thanks to everyone for your get-well-soon (and even the don't-get-well-ever) wishes. xD I didn't get sick again, but I did get some downtime when I finished one of my midterms early. Now I need to get back to working on the other two... 'cause they're due next week. D: OH SCHOOL. WHAT YOU DO TO ME.

Also, didn't really get a chance to proofread this chapter. Let me know if something makes you go 'Wtf?' and I'll fix it. See you guys next time!