“What?” he snaps, looking back toward me with a stare I have never seen from him before. Devon has been mad at me before, sure, what best friends don’t have disagreements and all that, but this stare was something else. It was as if he hated me.
“I said now that you know, you can leave me alone about the subject?”
“Oh.” Devon collects himself, smiling weakly. “Yeah, okay. I guess it makes more sense and all that.”
“Good.” I straighten my shoulders, surprised at how easy he was to convince. Even though I’m surprised, a huge relief has been lifted off my shoulders. “Now that that’s settled, I’m leaving tonight.”
There’s a long pause. “Isa?” Devon groans, dropping his head to his hands and leaning over his elbows which are resting on his knees. “Please just tell me you will be careful.”
I tilt my head. “Devon? What’s wrong?”
He stands to his feet while shaking his head. “Nothing.” Then he comes toward me, gripping the back of my neck and pulling my forehead to his lips. “Nothing at all,”
he whispers against my skin. Stepping back, he smiles weakly and I see a sad glint flash through his eyes. “I better go. I have a photoshoot thing at twelve, and the photographer hates when I’m late.”
“Yeah.” I walk toward my half-packed suitcase. “I’ll see you a little later, or if I don’t, I’ll text you and we can grab some dinner or something?” I can’t imagine my life without Devon in it. The thought not only cripples me but it—nope. I’m not going there.
He smiles again, stepping backward slowly. “Yeah, Just… text me.” Then he’s gone in a flash. Pausing for a split second, I think over at what point exactly, did that conversation go weird. I come up with nothing. Devon and I have always been close, so I can usually read him. The second we met each other we hit it off, and I knew instantly that we were going to be best friends, so him acting this way obviously is him being jealous about Bryant suddenly railroading my life. He’s just being territorial.
Gathering up the last of my clothes, I head into the bathroom for all my toiletries and phone charger before slinging my backpack over my shoulder and wheeling my suitcase behind myself. I pause at the threshold of my room, turning around one last time. Last time? Maybe not. I don’t plan to stay with Bryant for long. The second he’s finished with whatever game he’s playing, I’ll be back. Switching off the light, I let that promise sink into an echo inside my brain…
Fallen leaves crunch under my feet as I zip through the tree trunks and jump over old fallen branches. The air zips into my lungs like icicles from a cool winter day and the fog mists out of my mouth like smooth smoke from a cigar. Why am I running? Who am I running from? All I know is that I need to run. Jumping over a moss-covered log, I stop running, breathing in and out heavily. A wall of glass drops down in front of me, displaying my own reflection. It’s peering back at me like an empty lost part of who I am. Cocking my head, I stare deep into my eyes, sinking into my own thoughts. My reflection stills and I step back, but my reflection remains the same, unmoving, frozen in time. Chills break out over my body as my eyes in the mirror begin to turn a light grey, dead, lifeless. Seconds pass before dark black lines begin to crack over my flesh in the mirror.
“Holy shit!” I gasp, stepping backward and covering my mouth with my hand. My chest starts to feel thick when suddenly I’m robbed of air. My throat feels as though a brick has been shoved inside of it, so I squeeze, hoping to rip out whatever it is that’s stopping me from breathing. My face swells and veins pop out of my head.
As I’m about to collapse to the ground, bats fly out of my mouth in a loud squeak just as the mirror bursts and shards of the broken glass go flying over my skin, slicing me into pieces.
Sweat drips off my skin as I shoot up from the floor in a panic. What the fuck was that? Looking around the room, I notice I’m still in my apartment, my bedroom door slightly ajar. Rubbing my hands over my sweat-soaked flesh, a range of goosebumps break out all over me. I bend down, picking up my fallen handbag and suitcase. Whatever that was sent chills down my spine. Speeding up to a slight jog, I head toward the front door, pull it open and rush out the foyer until the cool breeze washes over my face. I don’t know what the fuck that was. Too many weird things are going on in my life right now that I don’t know how to comprehend them all at once. Devon going cold on me, Bryant being Wolf, and then whatever that dream was. Nothing’s adding up and everything is starting to feel too
overwhelming. “Isa!” Jerry runs up behind me with three other MIB’s following closely.
“Sorry.” I pause. “I swear,” I look around nervously, my head still pounding, “I swear I wasn’t trying to run.”
Jerry looks at me closely, I see the way his eyes run over every inch of my body, checking to see that I’m not visibly hurt. Nope. Just a little fucking freaked out.
“All right.” Then he looks to another MIB. “Go and get the car.” Before he takes hold of my arm and ushers me outside.
We’re waiting for the car when my phone vibrates in my pocket, I quickly slip it out and answer.
“Hello?” I say breathlessly, moving my unruly dark hair out of my face and slipping into the backseat of the SUV.
“Isa? Have you been running, are you okay?” Step-mother dearest. I calm my breathing, closing my eyes. Of course she would think me running would be something totally out of the blue. I don’t run, and if I am running, you should probably run too because that means something is chasing me.
“Yes, I’m fine, what can I do for you, Lydia?” We pull away from the curve after Jerry gets in beside me, and I crank down the window, attempting to dry off the excess sweat I still have trickling down the side of my face.
“Well… your father wanted to know how your night with Bryant Royal went…”
I scoff. Scoff. Flat out could not help the ridiculous scoff that escapes my mouth.
“Oh, I’m sorry, so why didn’t he call me himself?” I rest the phone on my shoulder and lean forward toward the driver. “Bryant’s place, please.” Then I lean back in my seat. “Tell him it was fine. Bryant and I have known each other for some time so we’re picking up where we left off—why?” A terrible lie, but if my family isn’t going to believe that I’m about to marry Bryant, it will only work if they think we’ve known each other for a while.
“Well…”
“Lydia, stop saying well and cut to the point.”
“It’s just… your father would really appreciate your cooperation in what Bryant may or may not ask you.” I sigh, massaging my temples with my fingertips. Seems Bryant has already beaten me to it, though I should applaud him for his brilliant swerve in working my parents. Of course going this route would work better. This way it will make my father feel important.
Rolling my eyes, I tilt my head back into the headrest. “What exactly are you asking me?”
“Well, I think you know what it is that I’m asking you. Don’t fight this, Isa. You could have done worse off. This is Bryant Royal for goodness sake.” Having about enough of this conversation, I hang up my phone in a huff. Bryant has already interfered with so much in my life. I dial Devon’s number, because, well, he’s all I really have as far as friends go. Aside from Jen, but she’s married with kids and will be jumping up and down to have me get with Bryant, so I could really do with Devon’s insight in this situation. I know I can’t disclose too many details to him right now, but he’s always been good at talking me off the cliff. And I feel very close to falling off the cliff right now. Maybe he has cooled down enough to talk some sense into me.
After the fourth time of him not answering, I throw my phone onto the seat beside me and glance out the window to all the passing trees and runners jogging through the streets. The cute couple walking their fluffy Labrador and the mom who is pushing her stroller down the street as her child licks his half-melted ice cream.