Hunting Lila (11 page)

I was being jerked forcefully away from the noise, which was coming from the building. Alex’s grip was a steel tourniquet around my arm and he was holding me flush to his side. He was half running and I was stumbling and tripping into him as he yanked me towards his bike, the pain in my head making it all but impossible to put one foot in front of the other.

I felt myself lifted up into the air and then somehow I was on the back of the bike. My legs automatically gripped the leather seat to stop myself from sliding off, but then Alex was in front of me, his back a wall against my face. He kicked up the stand and fired it up. As I felt the thrum of the engine underneath us, Alex reached back with his arm and grabbed my hand, pulling it around him and pressing it hard against his waist.

‘Hold on,’ he said.

It wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind when I expressed a desire to get a ride on Alex’s bike. I was too terrified to take anything in, least of all his proximity. I closed my eyes and let the roar of the bike overtake the sound of the siren, which quickly faded into the distance. The wind was whipping my hair round my face but I couldn’t unlock my hands from around Alex’s body to push it back. The pain in my head receded with the decibel level, until it was just a faint vibration against my skull.

After what seemed like only a few minutes I felt the bike slow. It turned a few corners and then came to a gentle, rolling stop. I prised my eyes open. We were in front of Jack’s house already. I felt Alex’s warm hand on top of mine and realised that I had him in a vice-like grip. My fingers were clasped so tightly together it took the gentle pressure of his thumb to unhook them. He slowly shifted around so he could see me.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I think so.’

He climbed off the bike. I wasn’t sure how to get down, so tightly was I glued to the seat. Alex lifted me off as though I was an infant, which I now realised was exactly how he saw me. Rachel’s words still smarted in my ears.

‘What just happened?’ I asked.

‘I’m not sure. It was an alarm. But I have no idea what triggered it.’

‘So why the great escape?’

‘Because when an alarm sounds, it’s usually a good idea to run.’

I frowned at him, then remembered Jack. ‘Where’s Jack? Will he be all right?’

‘He’ll be fine.’

But he was already pulling out his phone. He hit the speed dial and then was speaking to the other person, Jack I presumed, as his first words were, ‘Yes, she’s with me. She’s fine. Yes . . . On the bike . . . Yeah. Definitely the last time.’

He looked up suddenly and scanned the street. I followed his gaze to the black SUV sitting on the kerb with its windows up. ‘Yes, they’re here. I’ll let them know. Call me when you have something. I’ll stay till you’re back.’

He hung up. ‘Stay here,’ he said.

So he really was babysitting me – Rachel had been right. And now he was ordering me around like a child. My nostrils flared but Alex didn’t notice, he was already striding towards the car. Maybe I was just a burden to them. Both he and Jack had made it clear that they didn’t really want me here. But I didn’t need this level of looking after. It made me want to scream.

The window of the car whirred down and I saw Alex bend his blond head to speak to the driver.

I looked around me and thought about it for one second. Then I stood up and walked to the front door, pulling out my key. I unlocked the door and went inside. As I tapped in the security code on the alarm, Alex ran up the steps and into the house.

‘I told you to wait for me.’

‘I know.’

‘So next time wait for me.’ His eyes were granite-hard.

I glared at him. ‘I’m not a child, Alex. You can’t tell me what to do.’

He ignored me, pushing past into the kitchen. He shoved the door, letting it fly into the wall, and then crossed quickly to the back door, checking it. I rolled my eyes at the dramatics and walked up the stairs towards the shower. I was hot, angry and tired – but most of all I was heartbroken. A shower wasn’t going to fix that.

The bathroom door slammed behind me and the shower started running before I realised what I was doing. I sank to my knees in disgust at myself. I couldn’t even manage to keep control of my ability. This day couldn’t get much worse. I stripped off my jogging gear and climbed into the shower, drenching myself and letting the grime run off me. Rachel’s perfect glistening smile and seductively half-closed eyes appeared in my head.
Enjoy your babysitting.
I was still fuming when I got out. I wiped the mirror with the back of my arm and looked at myself. I was no competition for Rachel. She was a perfect match for Alex. They had looked like a golden couple standing next to each other. And she had another major advantage that I lacked – he was allowed to date her.

A knock on the door interrupted my musings.

‘Are you OK in there?’ Alex sounded tense.

‘Fine.’

I could have sworn the doorknob turned a fraction of an inch.

I got up before he could come in to check and yanked open the door. Alex was leaning against the frame. He looked tired, stress etched around his mouth. Babysitting me must be such a chore.

‘How are your hands and knees?’

I had forgotten all about them when Rachel had appeared. Now I turned my palms over and saw the blanched skin flapping free in places.

‘OK,’ I said, walking straight past him to my room and closing the door behind me. He didn’t follow. I wondered if he would just hand over his duty to one of the ‘guards’ outside. I sank onto the bed, pulling the towel around me, and felt tears well up out of nowhere.

The hairbrush on top of the dresser began to move, pretty much of its own accord. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing it until it was hovering in mid-air by my head. By then it was too late. It hurtled through the window like a missile. The smash, when it came, threw me sideways off the bed, glass splintering at my feet.

I stood for one moment, frozen, waiting for Alex’s footsteps on the stairs and for him to burst angrily in on me – but nothing happened. I tiptoed to the door and eased it open. I could hear Alex’s voice but it was muffled. He was pacing the front veranda talking on his phone. Probably to Rachel. Organising a date no doubt, for when he was done with babysitting.

I turned back into the room. This was my chance. I threw on a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and with one backwards glance at the football-sized hole in the window, I was out of there.

I took the stairs as quickly as I could, jumping the step that squeaked the loudest. Then I snuck through to the kitchen, unlocked the back door, stepped out and closed it gently behind me. I put my flip-flops on as I went down the steps and ran to the bottom of the garden. I wasn’t sure what lay behind the house, probably another garden, but I planned to hop the fence and cut through to the road behind.

I didn’t know where I was headed but the ocean seemed as good a place as any. At the fence, I peered back towards the house but there was no movement, no yelling, just a great big hole in the upstairs window. I grabbed a tree branch and hoisted myself up until I was perched on top of the fence and then I jumped down, landing in a crouch in the garden of a house almost identical to Jack’s. I ran quickly to the side of the house and edged my way down the alley alongside it, lined with rubbish bins. I peered around the house’s veranda on the lookout for any black cars with tinted windows but there were none, so I began walking westwards fast, towards Harbour Beach.

By the time I made it to the main street, I was beginning to relax. There was no sign of Alex roaring around the bend on his bike to come and find me and bring me back. The bright green light of a Seven-Eleven over the way beckoned, so I crossed over and slipped inside the cool of the store, making my way down a skinny aisle towards the drinks.

I grabbed a can of Sprite and headed to the counter to pay. A grungy-looking old man was standing in the middle of the narrow aisle, checking out the dried noodle selection. I hovered awkwardly, hoping he would notice me and move out of the way, but he kept standing there muttering to himself.

I cleared my throat, hoping he’d take the hint, but he was engrossed in studying the ingredients list on the back of his noodle pack.

My hand was going numb holding the cold Sprite. I took a step forward.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, as I started to edge past the old guy, sucking in my stomach and flattening myself against the shelf as I inched by.

He suddenly looked up from his conversation with the noodle packet and fixed me with a dead stare. My earlier impression had been off; he wasn’t old, perhaps only in his early forties. He was dark-skinned with a dusty grey film about him. There were concrete shadows beneath his eyes and heavy creases around his mouth.

‘I need your help,’ he whispered, his voice scratchy as sandpaper.

My eyes flitted to the round mirror angled in the right-hand corner of the shop. The shopkeeper reflected back at me was oblivious, I could see the top of his bald head serving another customer. I really didn’t need to be helping out a crazy person conflicted over his choice of pot noodle.

‘Er . . . I’m not sure I’m the right person,’ I told him.

‘Yes, yes, you are,’ he said.

The man’s eyes were fevered and his breath in my face was smoke-hazed. I flinched slightly and edged further past him. I just wanted to pay for my can of Sprite and get out of here. The man twisted, blocking my path with his body, and I felt myself take a step backwards, the hairs rising on the nape of my neck. Something wasn’t right. He took a step towards me, his hand outstretched as though he was going to grab me, but then he paused, his head jerking up, looking at something over my shoulder. Before I could turn to follow his gaze he was off, shuffling towards the fire exit at the rear of the store, dropping his noodle packet on the floor as he went.

I turned to the front door, seeing a red shape through the stickered glass. Alex’s bike. My head fell back against the shelf. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even been able to make it to the beach. Busted in a Seven-Eleven. God they were well trained. I put the can back and then scuffed my way over to the door.

On the kerb directly in front of me was Alex, leaning against his motorbike, his legs stretched out across the pavement and his arms crossed against his chest. His eyebrows were raised. He didn’t say anything. Just handed me a helmet. I took it and, sighing, put it on. Alex took a step forward to help me with the strap under my chin.

‘Get on,’ he said and I clambered on behind him.

As Alex accelerated off down the street, I flattened my body against his, gripping tightly around his waist. Ouch. Something was pressing against my stomach It had the pressure and bulk of ridged metal and I reared back an inch as I realised it was a gun. I was sure Alex hadn’t been carrying a gun earlier – I would have felt it – so where had he got this one from? And, more worryingly, why had he felt it necessary to bring a gun when chasing after me? What was he planning to do – shoot me if I resisted?

We slowed up outside a modern apartment block that shone in the sunlight and took a sharp turn into an underground car park. Alex tapped in a code to open the barrier and then we were out of the glaring afternoon sun and into the dank gloom beneath the building. He curved the bike around a few pillars and pulled up by a lift. He got off first, but I jumped down before he could help me. He stood and watched for a few seconds while I battled with the helmet then stepped forward to help me, biting back a smile.

A question was forming on my lips and he anticipated it. ‘My place,’ he said simply.

I nodded. Of course, it was just the kind of place I’d imagined.

‘Come on,’ he said, getting into the lift and pressing the button for the sixth floor.

*    *    *

Sara had been right in her description. Alex’s apartment was minimalist to the extreme. The floors were stripped pale wood. The walls were white with nothing on them. It had the echoey, freshly painted feel of a brand new apartment, right before the owners move in.

Alex walked past me, beckoning me to follow him into the living room. This was a little bit better. There was a soft black sofa, a huge flat-screen television, a cream pile rug and a glass coffee table. But my eyes were drawn to the wall facing me.

It was made up entirely of glass, with floor-to-ceiling windows. There was an amazing view of Harbour Beach and the pier. I crossed over to look and gazed down at the little people scurrying on the street below, blading along the boardwalk and laid out on the beach like rows of boiled sweets. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a black SUV parked on the pavement opposite the main entrance. I wasn’t totally sure it was the same one that had been parked outside Jack’s house but it looked similar and I wondered what it was doing here, rather than keeping a lookout for Suki back at Jack’s.

‘I’m going to take a quick shower,’ Alex said.

I turned. He was watching me carefully. ‘Please don’t run off while I’m having it.’ The warning was implicit.

I nodded. ‘I won’t.’

He gave me a fleeting smile and then turned, a little wearily it seemed, towards the hallway again. I watched as he opened a door and disappeared from view. A minute later I heard the noise of a shower running. I tried not to let my imagination run off into the bathroom with him.

I hesitated for a minute and then tiptoed into the hallway, pausing in front of the open door. There was a double futon on the floor. Built-in mirrored wardrobes lined the wall opposite the bed. The only other items in the room were a stack of books skyscrapering the bed, and an alarm clock. The bathroom was en-suite and the door stood open, puffs of steam escaping. I guessed Alex was keeping both doors open so he could hear if I attempted another escape, so I tiptoed backwards into the living room and crossed over again to look out at the view.

The black car was still sitting against the kerb and, as I stood there trying to make out the number plate, the passenger door opened and a man in black combats and a black T-shirt got out. He was wearing sunglasses and he scanned the street back and forth, before throwing a glance up at the apartment. I stepped back quickly from the window, my leg banging into the glass table.