The professor dismisses us from his lecture not a moment too soon. After droning on for an hour and a half, he takes a drink of water and I silently thank myself for not falling asleep. I'm a good student, but when it comes to boring lectures, I have a bad habit of dozing off while sitting up. I have yet to be caught.
With that jinx out of the way, I gather my things and leave the classroom. Since that was my last class of the day, I walked to the parking lot where Damon is waiting for me. Ever since the first day he dropped me off, this has been our routine and I hope it continues even after this week ends.
I hear him before I see him, even with the windows rolled up, the volume of the music penetrates through the metal exterior of the car and out into the otherwise quiet day. Making sure he can't see me, I crouch down and creep towards the passenger side of the car. Screaming, I jump up from my crouching position and lightly hit his window. His whole body flinches and he whips his head around, a scowl underneath his widened eyes. For a guy who calmly handled someone following him, a little pop-scare surely scared the hell out of him.
Rolling down the window, and lowering the radio, he sternly commands me to "get in the car."
Obediently, I open the door slightly frightened of what would happen when it shuts behind me. Taking a deep breath, I hop into the car, a cheerful smile on my face.
"Hey, handsome. How was your day?" I ask in the most upbeat voice I could muster.
"I hope you don't think that a smile and nice greeting will get you off the hook. I don't like being scared. When we told each other that we would keep each other on our toes, I meant I would keep you on your toes, not the other way around."
Zoning out, I remember Monday, only three days ago. After my classes ended, I was paranoid and, once again, ran into his arms since he was already waiting outside of the car. The car ride was quiet and even though he told me that the guy was dangerous, I was still curious and wanted to know more. Why was he after Damon? Was he really after me or was it a scare tactic? What was Damon's job? Why was he forced into it? Was the job dangerous? How was he able to afford his car? I wasn't stupid, I watched movies. I knew only drug dealers or gang leaders, and multi-millionaire company CEOs, could afford this kind of car. Out of all the options, for some reason, I cannot picture Damon as a CEO. If he was, why would he be hiding? Wouldn't he be more reasonable and mature than falling asleep on a stairwell? On the other hand, Damon being a gang leader or a drug dealer? Highly unlikely. Yes, he was a jerk when we first met and acted like he owned the world, but, these past few days have shown me another side of him. One that is sweet, caring, and nothing like the front he first showed me.
The radio blasting breaks me out of my thoughts. With a small squeak, I look at Damon.
"Where did you go?"
"I was thinking about what happened on Monday. What do you do for a living? Why is that man after you?"
"I told you. I'm in the family business. I'm taking over for my father in a year. He's after me because he doesn't think I'm capable of taking over. He wants to take over after my father leaves, but I'm the heir. After everything I have done, I may be younger than him, but I deserve that spot."
"What's the family business? Why doesn't he think you're capable of taking over?"
"Damnit, Rose! Enough with the questions. You haven't stopped since Monday!"
The next question I had died on my tongue and I shut my mouth. I'm not trying to be nosy, I just don't understand why someone would follow Damon. None of this makes sense. When Damon asked me if I knew who he was and I didn't, Brandon said it was good that no one knew who he was. Why would he say that? With every question, another arises and I can feel a headache brewing. I just want to get out of the tense atmosphere of this car that's suffocating me and take a long shower with music to drown out any other thoughts.
Pulling into the parking lot, I continue to look out the window until the car shuts off. Leaping out of the car, I tumble as the rest of my body stays in the car. In my haste, I forget my school bag but leave it as a casualty of awkwardness, and make a break for the entrance doors.
"Rose!" Damon calls from behind me.
Quickening my pace, I race to the stairwell and all three fights before bursting through the doors. Sprinting down the hallway, I fumble with my keys until the right one makes it into the lock and I get through my door with a slam.
Only moments later, Damon pound-knocks at my door, repeatedly calling my name. I take a second and think "why am I acting like this?"
The response comes only seconds later. When I was a child, my parents would spend all of their time fighting. The screaming was more often than talking in normal conversations. After the accident, there was no more screaming and I was hopelessly alone. The year I was supposed to be the most excited for, my freshman year of college, was one that was filled with "what if's." What if I went with them that night? What if I tried to make them sit down and talk before that night? What if it wasn't raining and they weren't fighting on the road? What if that guardrail wasn't there?
Since they both passed and left me here, I haven't heard the screaming and today, him screaming at me, reminded me of them. Don't get me wrong, I loved- love- my parents and I will for the rest of my life, but their relationship with each other was toxic and I was always in the middle. I couldn't help them. I was useless. I don't want to be useless anymore and watch someone else I care about die.
"Rose, I'm sorry. Can you please open the door? I didn't mean to yell at you."
My hand reaches for the door. Do I let him in? What if I don't let him in now and he suffers the same fate as my parents except instead of the guardrail it will be that guy in the black truck?
The door knob turns and I brace myself to see him.
He's not your parents. He won't leave you.
Even with that thought, I'm still unassured. Maybe he will leave. I mean, everyone eventually does. What's to stop him from leaving right now and never knocking on my door again?
I pull the door open and there he stands, my bag in his left hand, dangling close to the ground.
"Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, but I care for you. The closer you get to me, the more danger you will be in. Knowledge is a weapon where I come from, and I don't want you to ever have to yield it."
"I'm just trying-" as someone passes by my door I stop. "Come inside."
Closing the door behind him, I continue. "I'm just trying to help. I couldn't help my parents, but I can help you."
Even though he doesn't know anything about what happened to my parents, empathy dawns in his eyes. Pulling me into his arms, he hugs me as if he never wants to let me go. I nuzzle into his chest, the feeling of being safe and protected flooding back despite what happened no more than twenty minutes ago.
"I understand how you feel. I watched my uncle die right in front of me. I was only a kid, but if only I listened to what he said the first time, he would still be alive. I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know."
His arms wrap tighter around me and his breathing increases.
"It wasn't your fault. You were only a child," I say, attempting to soothe him on something I know would never be fully soothed.
"I know. It took me years to get over it, but every now and again it comes back and I feel a pang of guilt."
Squeezing me one more time, he lets go and steps away.
"Enough of this sappy stuff. We will call Brandon over and end the night with a movie. What do you say?"
"I think that is a great idea. I'll get the blanket and the popcorn. Meet me back in the living room in 15 minutes."