Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (29 page)

I was slogging back up the apartment stairs when I heard my cell phone playing “Unknown” by D.O.A. I’d left it on the table by the bills. Who had this number that I didn’t know?

I ran up the last few steps, slammed the keys into the locks, and flung myself across the main room, jumping over a barstool and slid into the seat at the kitchen table. I flipped the phone open and hit talk without even looking at who it was. Was probably sales call or something.

I was wrong.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice said from the other end. There was a trepidation in those two syllables. “Sarah?”

I stopped breathing. I knew that voice.

It was my kid sister.

“Megan?” I asked when I found my voice again. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer right away, and my heart pounded in my throat.

“Can you come meet me?” she asked. “Please?”

“Jesus, Megan …” My mind was spinning out of control. “It’ll take me forty minutes to get over to Crescent Ridge. Where are you?”

“I’m at a payphone outside the Barnes and Noble in Federal Way.”

Federal Way? That was pretty close. “Why Federal Way?”

“Sarah, please?” she begged. “Just come get me.”

I think she was crying. “Yeah, sure. Give me twenty minutes. Go inside the store. People won’t bother you in there.”

“Okay,” she said, and the phone went dead.

Christ on a crutch … I sat there with my head in my hands, trying to hold in my thoughts. All I had was the Ducati. Luckily I carried Katie’s helmet with me, just in case.

I grabbed all the bills and personal mail, shoved them into my saddlebags, grabbed Gram and glanced around the apartment once. Felt like I was missing something.

I locked the place up, making sure I’d turned off the lights first, and pounded down the stairs. My mind was racing with all kinds of possibilities. Was someone hurt? Were ma and da okay? Had Megan run away?

By the time the bike roared to life a thousand possibilities had flitted through my brain, none of them good. I kicked the bike into first and gunned the engine. I darted out from behind Elmer’s Gun and Knife Emporium fearing the worst.

I should’ve called Julie, let her know what was happening.

Too late, of course. I was already on the road. And besides, Megan was waiting.

Forty-four

I pulled the bike into a space in front of the bookstore and climbed off, leaving Gram and the saddlebags in place. I wasn’t going to be there long. My heart was in my throat as I unstrapped my helmet and peeled off my leather jacket. Seven years was a long damn time. I ran my hands through my hair, worrying the tangles loose and pushing it all back off my face.

Fear rode in my chest, fear and seven years of lousy excuses.

I pulled the doors open and stepped into the vestibule. It reminded me of an airlock lined with bargain books. Once through the second set of doors I noticed they had a coffee shop inside. Maybe I’d buy her a drink, talk to her a bit. The store was fairly busy. People milled through the book aisles chatting or grabbing books off the shelves. There were a lot of people here, and none of them looked like Megan.

I walked through the store three times, up and down every aisle, into the bathroom twice and once through the coffee shop. She wasn’t there.

I started to panic. I knew Megan’s voice. But had someone tricked me to get me here? Maybe I was getting too paranoid. I took a deep breath and decided to do the logical thing and ask.

The girl at the information desk was tall and slim with long black hair and a quick smile.

“May I help you?” she asked.

I looked down at her nameplate. Cassie. “Yeah, Cassie, I’m looking for my sister,” I said, pulling out my wallet. Inside I had that picture Ma had sent me last year, of Megan leaning against the truck with her purple streaked hair and an old beat up pair of Doc Martens.

Cassie looked at the picture and brightened. “She was in her a few minutes ago, but she left.”

“Left? When? Did you see which way she went?”

“She walked out with a young guy, early twenties maybe.”

Guy? Twenties? “Did she know him?” I asked. “Did he force her?”

Her face fell. “Force? No, I don’t think so. She was surprised to see him, actually. But I thought she went with him willingly. Let me check with Sally.”

She walked around the end of the counter and walked over to a young redhead who was working the cash register. I glanced around at the books, fretting. Why would she call me then leave with some guy? And how did she know twenty-year-old guys? Church maybe?

“Sally says they left together,” the information girl said. “She heard him ask her why she was in Federal Way and she told him she was supposed to meet someone, but they’d pulled a no show. He didn’t press it. Said he’d take her home.”

“Did she mention any names?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

I thanked the girl and went out of the store to stand by my bike. It took me twenty-seven minutes to get here from Kent. Was she that impatient?

I called Julie. The phone rang a few times and rolled over to voice mail. Speaking of patience. Not that I’m really paranoid or anything, but I immediately called Circle Q.

Mary told me that Julie was out working with some of the horses and that her phone was on the counter with her keys.

I left a message, saying I had to run out to Crescent Ridge and that I’d be back to Circle Q late.

Mary jotted down the message and said she needed to go fix dinner, but admonished me to be careful.

It was early, about four-thirty. I could totally make it out there, see what happened.

I pulled on my jacket and helmet and climbed on the bike.

Seven years between conversations and she leaves without waiting for me?

We’d exchanged two letters over the last five months. We used the Tae Kwon Do school as our safe place. Sa Bum Num Choi was amenable to our subterfuge since we asked politely. I sent my letters there, Megan picked them up when she taught. We were still at the pleasantries phase, not really getting into too much. I knew she was much happier at the high school than being home-schooled. I knew she liked boys, and I told her I didn’t.

That had been in my last letter to her. That was almost five months ago. I sent the first one just after Christmas and the second one in February. She had a lot of hurt. She felt abandoned and rightly so. I hadn’t even tried to justify myself. Not yet. Telling her about Katie was as far as I’d managed. Then things had gone dark.

Frustration and anger warred inside me as I started the bike and pulled through the parking lot. What was I going to do, ride up to the house and confront her there in front of ma and da? I hadn’t spoken to da in seven years either. I sure as hell didn’t want to start now.

I idled at the parking lot exit, waiting for an opening in the traffic, debating on turning back north for Black Briar or heading south to Crescent Ridge.

Fuck it. I turned south toward Crescent Ridge and merged in with traffic. She called me for a reason. I’d avoided her long enough. Time to pay the piper.

Traffic was pretty heavy, but I made good time.

I pulled off onto 410 in Sumner and hit a gas station. I needed petrol in the worst way. And it gave me a chance to avoid getting there by a few more minutes. I was going, no doubt about it. Didn’t mean I was looking forward to the confrontation.

To stall as long as possible, I hit the restroom before getting back on the road. I was walking back to my bike when a black and white Pontiac Fiero from like a million years ago pulled up to the pumps across the aisle from me.

I straddled the bike, helmet in hand and saw that the young woman in the passenger seat was Megan. She looked so much like ma my heart clinched. I was pissed.

The guy started pumping gas when I carefully stepped off the bike and placed the helmet on the seat, but I kept on my leather gloves. Megan looked like she’d been crying, and this guy looked like the kind of guy who made girls cry. I may need to punch him a bit.

“Hey,” I called, striding across the lot. “Megan?”

The guy looked over, surprised, and Megan did a double-take as I pulled the car door open.

“What the hell?” the boy called, but I ignored him.

I reached to pull her out, but she beat me to it. I had one hand on the open door and the other reaching in when she bolted from the car and into my arms.

The boy had the look of someone contemplating violence until he saw Megan’s reaction. I staggered back a step as she wrapped her arms around my chest, buried her face in my shoulder, and started to cry.

I looked at the boy while I stroked her hair and told her things were going to be okay.

He stared at me like I had a third head. I gave him my best stern look, then closed my eyes as Megan shook in my arms.

This was right. This, more than almost anything in my life.

How had I abandoned this girl?

This I could fix. I had to. She needed me, and that was something I needed.

Forty-five

The guy’s name was Dennis, and he was one of the instructors at the Tae Kwon Do school. It had been a total coincidence that he ran into Megan at that Barnes & Noble.

We moved our vehicles to the side of the gas station and he grabbed sodas while Megan and I sat on the curb and talked.

“Why’d you ditch me?” I asked when the crying was as dry as it was gonna get.

She looked at me sideways and shrugged. “I was scared. You took a long time.”

“Twenty-seven minutes,” I said, exasperated. “You couldn’t wait a few more minutes?”

She looked down at her hands and shrugged again. “Wasn’t sure you were really coming. When I saw Dennis, I thought that was a sign from God that I should take the gift presented and catch a ride with him instead of being ditched by my … by you.”

Harsh. I reached over and took one hand, squeezing it.

“I’m sorry I never came home.”

She started crying again. Quietly, but enough that she wiped her face with her free hand and continued to look down. Her hair was well below her shoulders now, longer than in the last picture I’d seen.

I reached over with my other hand and pushed her hair up over her ear. “Da let you cut your hair last year?”

“Ha!” she barked. “Him? No way. He freaked.” She glanced up at me “We saw your picture in the paper last year, when you saved those people from that fire. The parental units were apoplectic. They were very proud of you,” she looked up fully, earnestly. “You have to know that. Da beamed, showed the article to everyone at church.”

I found that hard to believe. “I must’ve looked like a disgrace.” The picture the paper used was one of me working at some Ren Faire event from a couple of years before. I’d been maybe twenty-three, twenty-four with the sides of my head shaved. “I bet the deacons had a thing or two to say about my picture.”

She grinned at me. “Oh, no. He didn’t show them your picture. He cut that out, just took the article. I have that picture in my memory book.” She looked down again, the smile fading. “Thanks for sending me those pictures of you and Katie. She’s really pretty.”

I must’ve stiffened because she squeezed my hand really hard until I relaxed. “Yeah, she’s awesome.”

Megan smiled at that, the grin creeping up over her face, but she didn’t look around. “Ma thinks she’s pretty, too.”

I thought back to ma visiting my apartment last fall, mistaking Julie for Katie. “She’s not freaked I’m a lesbian?”

“Not freaked exactly …” She looked up and over to her other side as Dennis reappeared carrying sodas. He handed around three tall bottles of orange Crush. They were in glass bottles, from Mexico with real cane sugar. I twisted off the cap and took a long pull. It was definitely sweet.

Megan introduced Dennis, explaining he was a third degree black belt and taught a lot of mixed martial arts in the adult class. “Good guy to have in a fight,” she said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, giving him the once over. His hair was cropped very short, and he had wide shoulders and a broad chest. Not the tallest of the bunch, I was sure. He was maybe five-ten, five-eleven. He was cute enough, and his eyes were full of light. Excited about the world, and protective of Megan. No crush there or anything, not that kind of protective. But clan tight, like Black Briar. Different from how I assumed he was at first. It’s all about perspective.

Dennis was going to Pacific Lutheran University, getting a degree in business and finance, so he made the drive north several days a week. He’d stopped at the bookstore to get his mother a birthday present.

After a couple more minutes of introductions and examinations, he excused himself and went to sit in his car and study while we continued our chat.

“Nice guy,” I said once he’d closed his door.

“Yeah. Da actually likes him, even though he doesn’t go to our church. Says Lutherans are okay by him as long as they’re God-fearing.”

“How is he?” I asked, taking a drink of my soda so I didn’t have to look at her when she answered.

“This last year hasn’t been too good,” she said, quietly. “He’s scared, Sarah. He tries to cover it up, but I can see it.”

I glanced over at her and she was wiping the condensation off her soda bottle with both thumbs. She was staring into the distance, deep inside her own head.

“It was early last year, before the whole ‘you becoming a hero thing,’” she glanced over quick, then back down.

She was nervous.

I placed a hand on her arm and she seemed to calm down.

“I’ve heard him and ma arguing a few times. He wants us to move. Says it isn’t safe here any longer.”

“Ma mentioned that in a letter,” I said, quietly. I watched her face. She was such a beautiful girl. Strong and determined. But scared, too.

“Ma won’t go, though. I heard her tell him that if we ran, we’d never see you again.”

That was a nice surprise.

“It put him off for a few months, but last year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, some guys started asking around town, looking to see if anyone knew you.”

I stiffened. “Who?” I asked. “Did they say why they were looking for me?”

She shivered. “No, but they were ugly people, Sarah. Two men. One was gorgeous, but he had funny features, maybe Asian, but different. The other guy was a brute. Looked like he’d been hit in the face with a shovel a few times. They came by the Tae Kwon Do school and Sa Bum Nim talked with them. She’s tough as nails.”