Wrecked (19 page)

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

*******

I arrived at Pointe Hope Police Department where I was escorted to an interview room. I stared at my reflection in the mirrored glass window and realized that I looked exhausted. I hadn’t slept more than a few hours since my last moments with Mylie in my office. I deserved this hell. The door opened, and Detective Bowers came in with a familiar man, but sans the leather, spikes, and bad boy persona.

“Professor James. This is my partner Detective Kyan Cavanaugh.” He held out his hand, but I just nodded.

“Isn’t it against the rules to do a case when you’re dating the potential victim?” I asked to Detective Bowers.

“Excuse me? I –”

“First off, I’m not dating Mylie. Second, she has been my friend since we were kids. Lastly, my relationship with her is purely platonic,” Detective Cavanaugh said, but I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“If you have something to say, just say it.” His nose flared as he openly glared.

“It’s funny how things started to happen when you showed up in her life.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“I was undercover at P.H.U. but was removed once my cover was blown when Mylie saw me.”

“Fine. Can we get this over with?”

Maybe I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help that the guy unnerved me. Was it jealously? Probably, but I’d would never admit it out loud. Detective Bowers put a tape recorder on the table, while Detective Cavanaugh had his arms crossed over his chest and waited. I heard the faint click as he pressed the dual red and black buttons, and I took a deep breath.

“Start from the beginning,” Detective Bowers said calmly and so I did.

“What did Mercy look like?” Detective Cavanaugh asked while Detective Bowers gave him a pinched stare.

“She had startling blue eyes with short black hair. She wore dark clothes and makeup. She had the whole emo look going.”

There was a knock on the door. Detective Cavanaugh opened the door and spoke to the officer. He nodded and signaled for Bowers to follow him outside the room. I just stared at my reflection and wondered what I could do to remove the unease I had been feeling for far too long.

Silently they came into the room with grim expressions on their faces, which only indicated that my fears were true, she was dead. I looked to Mylie’s friend and hoped that he could stop this before it happened to her.

“They found her.” Detective Bowers slid a notepad my direction with a pen. “Tell me everything you remember and anything you think is relevant.”

“You need to find Xavier Bane.” They furrowed their brows and looked at me in confusion.

“Why would we do that?” Detective Bowers asked cautiously.

“Because he is Mylie’s boyfriend, and he should know that Mylie is in danger. He should be here.”

“Are you sure? Xavier Bane?” Detective Cavanaugh asked hesitantly, and I wondered if it was caution or jealously in the tone of his voice.

“Yes. I am positive.”

I grabbed the pen and paper and began retelling everything since meeting Mylie. It only made the hole in my heart that much deeper because I knew I tore her soul when I denied my feelings, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. I squeezed my eyes shut because I never thought I would be the one to cause this pain to anyone, let alone Mylie. I loved her so much, but who would actually believe me since I easily destroyed anything we could’ve had.

Mylie

“What’s going on?” My throat was still sore, but I was able to speak in a very raspy voice. Kyan walked in, but he looked nothing like the man I saw before. He was dressed in a suit, but my mind only focused on the fact that his snakebites were gone, just like the bad boy. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“My’, when was the last time you spoke with Mercy.” He sat next to me.

“Mercy? How do you know Mercy? What’s going on, Kyan?

“What’s wrong with your voice? Never mind. Listen Mylie, this really important. What is your boyfriend’s name?”

“My boyfriend? Why do you want to know about Xavier? You’re scaring me Kyan. What’s wrong?”

“So Xavier Bane is your boyfriend?”

“Yes, he is my boyfriend. Why?”

“What about Mercy? When was the last time you saw her?”

“She is my physical therapist, and I saw her yesterday. Kyan, please answer me, what happened?”

“My’--, there is no easy way to say this, but we found Mercy.”

“Found her? What do you mean?”

“We found her body in the trunk of her car. She was killed.”

“Oh my God!” Tears filled my eyes, and I covered my face with my hands. I sobbed uncontrollably. She warned me, and now she was dead. “This is my fault,” I cried even harder.

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” There was a knock on the door, and I saw Mr. Bowers poke his head inside the room; I waved him in. He walked briskly and stood beside Kyan and gave me a tight smile.

“Mr. Bowers.” I nodded my head, but my voice cracked.

“My’. How are you feeling dear?” He grabbed my hand and gave me a squeeze.

“Not good sir, but I am alive, so, I shouldn’t complain.” I started to cry again. Mercy was dead. I was next. “He is going to kill me.”

“Who is going to kill you Mylie?”

“The man who killed Mercy. He is trying to kill me.”

“Why?” They asked in unison.

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. It didn’t make sense, but someone clearly wanted me dead. “Mercy saved my life. She said that she had been poisoned liked me, and she knew everything I was going through because she went through it, too. She was in a coma, but for her it was a lot longer because they didn’t know that a blood transfusion was the only cure.”

“Wait. That was Mercy Whitehead?” Kyan’s eyes were wide with shock.

“Yes.” I nodded my head

“My Lord.” Mr. Bowers looked pale. “But her family said she died! Now she really did.” He shook his head.

“They left her in hospice.” I sniffed, but the story made me very angry. “They moved after two years, when they gave up hope. Every night she would talk to me when I was under, and she knew that I could hear and remember what everyone was saying.”

“That’s incredible. It’s like a neurotoxin--”

“Tetrodotoxin.” We all turned and saw Dr. Trotter come into the room.

“What exactly does that mean?” Mr. Bowers asked.

“It’s very rare, but in short, Mylie shouldn’t have ever woken up from that coma.”

“So how did she?” Kyan asked.

“Mercy.” They all looked at me. “She is the one who broke into my room and made me lose blood.”

“Mylie! How could you have kept that to yourself?” Kyan was clearly upset.

“Mercy? Are you sure? I could call her in.”

“No, you can’t. Dr. Trotter may I speak with you?” Mr. Bowers asked.

“Of course. Let’s go to my office. Mylie, I will be back to do a check up on you.”

“Okay.” They left the room, and I waited with Kyan. I felt so alone. Xavier had yet to come to see me since I woke up, and--, no I won’t think of him. It was over. I felt around my bed and looked for the brass knuckles, but they were gone. Where was it? “Someone’s been in my room.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, they took Damien’s brass knuckles that he left me.”

“Mylie, those are illegal.”

“Cut the shit Kyan. I wouldn’t use it. It’s something symbolic for him and for me now. Someone took it.”

“Who has been in here?”

“My brother, Dr. Trotter, Mercy, and you guys. That’s it.”

“Was there a time you have been away from the room or the bed for that matter?”

“They took me to get some CAT scans, so it could have been then.”

“Mylie. Whoever it is, this is personal. Have you done anything that could provoke someone to act this way?” Kyan asked cautiously, but I knew he had his suspicions.

“Just ask what you want to ask Kyan,” I snapped.

“What aren’t you telling me Mylie?” He crossed his strong arms over his broad chest.

“Nothing,” I whispered. Tears filled my eyes again, and the shame I felt was suffocating. I knew this was just the beginning, and that thought brought a sense of dread to my very core.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Damien

It had been weeks since Mercy’s death, and I admit that the funeral was truly even more devastating than Mercy’s death. Only Mylie, Kyan, and I attended. Knowing that this poor woman’s life was stolen far too soon by a crazy man made me sick. The thought that this could have been Mylie’s funeral brought a rage so deep that I needed to know what was being done to prevent this from happening to her.

I caught her stare as she sat in her wheel chair, not fully recovered. Yet something in me stirred, when I saw that her usual twinkling blue eyes were lifeless. I did this to her. No, he did this to her-- the man who was making Mylie’s life hell. The circles under eyes looked prominent on her pale skin. Her natural glow was dull, and her bouncy caramel hair was stringy and brittle. What was happening to her? Mylie was dying before me.

I called a meeting with Kyan a week later, and he told me that Nik had been with Mylie every night, and she always had an officer on surveillance, and only people Mylie had approved of came into the house.

“She is dying. I can see it.”

“She is still sick from the poison--,” he rationalized, but I shook my head and protested.

“Mylie is being poisoned, still… right under everyone’s noses. Have her see Dr. Trotter.” I begged. After a brief silence he asked the question that I had been fighting since meeting Mylie.

“You love her?” I closed my eyes and simply nodded. “Then why are you not with her and her douche of boyfriend is?” It was obvious he didn't like Xavier either.

“Not a Xavier Bane fan, I see?” I smirked.

“We never got along during high school. I hated his brother even more. What she sees in him, I will never know. Yet you know women will always go for the all American hero type.” This had been the second time someone called Xavier an American hero, and it didn’t make sense.

“I am sure he is taking care of Mylie.” Kyan only snorted. “What?”

“He hasn’t even come to see her. If my girlfriend was being stalked and clearly someone was out to kill her, I would work something out to make time to see her.”

“That doesn’t make sense?” Why wouldn’t he go to see her?

“Exactly. It doesn’t. I have to go and check out your suspicions. Thank you for caring about Mylie.”

He left the office without another word. This whole situation just confused me. Something wasn’t right. I left my office, and I saw a man who looked very similar to Xavier walk through campus, but he had a shaved head. I followed closely but hid in the shadows. In that moment, Mylie, who was no longer in a wheel chair and bed ridden, walked up behind him and covered his eyes. It was Xavier. His body was rigid. Mylie had lost more weight. He turned around to stare at Mylie, but there was no gentleness or familiarity in his face. She grabbed his face and kissed him, his eyes widening.
What the hell was going on?
I crept closer within listening distance hidden behind the shade of a large tree.

She pulled away, smiling warmly, and rubbed his shaved head tenderly, but Xavier just stared at her.

“You shaved your head. I love it, but I’ll miss your hair,” she said, but he furrowed his brows.

Something wasn’t right. I needed to find out what was going on, but I didn’t want to leave her alone with him. She put her frail hands in her back pocket and just waited for him to say something but he didn’t. He was stoic.

“Xavier what’s wrong?” she asked, but she didn’t get an answer because he simply walked away. “What the hell?”

She shook her head and walked towards registration office. I went after Xavier, but I lost him when he got into a 4x4 lifted truck. I was going to figure out what was happening even if it killed me.

Mylie

He looked amazing and I missed him so much. Had he noticed how sick I still felt or that I lost so much weight? He looked at me like he didn’t even know me. I pressed my lips to his, but he didn’t even kiss me back. Did he know? No… impossible. I watched his retreating form, and it felt like I was broken even more. Damien didn’t want me, and Xavier didn’t want me either.

I ran to the registration office for the meeting with the dean of academics. The fall semester had literally taken a nosedive, and it would be safer just to withdraw from classes than to fail them. The office had old furniture from when the building was first built. Everything had been restored and the building’s charm didn’t change. The secretary, an elderly woman with faint purple-hued graying hair, wore a floral suit that resembled an old sofa. Her bright bubble- gum- pink pursed lips told me she found my presence irritating.