Blind Date(46)

"No, no you can't. Hey, listen, I need to talk with you about something else while I'm at it. I'm not really supposed to, but I need someone to talk this through with."

Her eyes widen, and she holds up a finger. "Okay, just let me get this out for us, then I'm sitting down, because I have a feeling I need to sit down by the look on your face."

I smile at her, and she nods. "Yep. Sit-down conversation."

She pulls two big double chocolate muffins from the bag and hands me one, then thrusts a coffee at me. I take both and we move to the chair and sit down, cross-legged, facing each other.

"Okay." She takes a sip of her coffee and a bite of her muffin. "Is this the kind of story that's going to make me cry, or scream, or do something violent?"

I give her a weak smile, because the idea of freaking her out bothers me, but I know if I don't tell her and she finds out from someone else, she'll flip out. She and I have always shared everything. Even the bad. Especially the bad. So, I take a deep breath, and just dive right in.

"Ace thinks he knows what's been happening with all these things going on, all Ray's stuff popping up … "

Her face goes slightly pale, because she knows me well enough by now to know that I'm not about to tell her everything is okay and we can stop worrying. No, she knows me well enough to know that I've sat her down for a reason.

"Hartley," she whispers. She hasn't used my full name in a long time. "What's going on?" 

I take a deep breath and meet her eyes. "Ace thinks … " Just say it, Hartley. "Ace thinks it could be that serial killer who's been around recently."

The blood rushes from her face, and my heart aches. Is that how I looked when Ace told me? I place my muffin down, and my coffee, and reach over, taking her hand. "Breathe, Taylor."

"You're joking," she whispers. "This is a joke, right? It has to be. Tell me you're joking, please … "

I shake my head softly. "I'm not joking. We're going to figure it out, and I'll be fine."

She doesn't look convinced, and I don't blame her. I know exactly what she's thinking, what she's feeling, I went through the exact same emotions. Soon, even long after she's left my house, she'll go over every possible scenario in her head. She'll analyze, she'll pull it to pieces, she'll think of every single thing that could go wrong, and it'll lodge itself firmly in her heart, too. Where it won't leave.

Just like it did to me.

"Greg just came to your apartment, and the people who were supposed to be watching you didn't notice, and you're trying to tell me it's fine … "

She makes a point, and I make a note to mention to Ace that Greg seemed to get into the building without any problems. Ace said he was monitoring who was coming in and out, so someone must have missed something. That doesn't make me feel safe, in fact it makes me worry even more. I am relying on these people to keep danger away-if they don't do their job  …  danger can get in, and that thought terrifies me.

"It's okay, it'll be okay," I say, not sure I actually believe that.

"Hart," she whispers, reaching over and catching both my hands in hers. "I'm scared."

My bottom lip trembles, as I hold her eyes. "Me too, honey."

"If something happened to you … "

I squeeze her hands. "Ace isn't going to let that happen."

She nods, but her eyes are glassy.

I scoot closer, and she throws her arms around me, and together we sit like that for what seems like eternity, hanging onto each other. I'm scared. Scared out of my mind. I can be strong. I can keep it together. But the looming threat over my head, the possibility that I might not make it out of this unscathed, has every fear and insecurity I've ever had in my life rising to the surface.

It's getting into my head.

Which is exactly what he wants.

I can't let him win. I can't let him get into the deepest depths of my soul. I can't let him break me. I know what he wants. I know the satisfaction he's going to gain, and I have to make sure he doesn't ever gain that power. I have to make sure that I never, ever let him win. I need to find my strength, wrap both hands around it, and fight this.

"It's going to be okay," I tell Taylor. "I'm not going to let this person get to me."

"I won't let him get to you either," she sniffles, pulling back. "I'll become a serial killer and get him back, if I have to. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. Only, my trademark will be, like, epic."

I laugh softly. Trust Taylor to be able to make light of even the darkest situation.

"I'm sure you'll do an amazing job." I smile at her. "Seriously, I wouldn't cross you."