Library

10. Oakley

10

OAKLEY

Two weeks go by and I don't see Jason again. I try not to feel too secure in this; people like Jason don't just disappear without a warning. Then again, my restraining order went through, so maybe that's it. Maybe he's taking it seriously.

He has to be, right? That's why he's not around.

Life feels peaceful again. I feel like everything is just… good. School is good—I enjoy my classes. I'm no closer to determining what I actually want to do with my future, but not looking over my shoulder between classes means I can concentrate on them again.

We moved to Arizona for a clean slate and once more, I feel like it's in front of me. I can build my life around this new start.

I sit in the side yard with Honey Bee and Briar as we covertly watch the new neighbors across the street. They always seem to be outside, though I'm struggling to determine how many actually live there. I swear I've seen like five men. They're all definitely adults and we're confident that they're all related. Cousins at the very least, but I'd be shocked if they weren't brothers.

I'm also confident that one man is a parental figure—uncle or father or something. He's not old and there are days when I'm sure he's the hottest one there, which is truly saying something because I don't think I've ever seen such a gorgeous group of men.

I've determined they hang out in their front yard because they have something going on in the back. I've seen construction company vehicles coming and going, though I've yet to see or hear actual construction, which leads me to believe they're getting quotes.

We've been discussing the backyard every time we see one of these trucks outside their house. When we first heard the rumors that the house was haunted, we peeked into windows to see what was inside, but there was nothing. The house was an empty shell.

However, we never went out back. I'm regretting it now since we're all stupidly curious. From what we've seen on satellite views—yes, we were creeps and looked—it's just a luxurious backyard. Nothing to be surprised about given the house itself.

There are three guys out front right now. One of them reminds me of Brek in how he dresses. He's wearing an open knit vest that's open. Jeans, low on his hips and rolled at his ankles with a white belt. He has well-worn brogues or Oxfords on, probably no socks.

Around one wrist is a silver watch, and the other has a handful of leather, bead, and braided bracelets. His hair is kind of floppy, unstyled. I've seen him run his hand through it half a dozen times in ten minutes. He has black-rimmed glasses that are very reminiscent of Brek's too.

His physique isn't quite like Brek's, though, but not far off. He's not toned like Briar or Levis who work at their muscles. He's thin like me, but more defined than I am.

Then there's who is unmistakably the oldest of the younger guys. There's just something mature about him, more than anything else. His hair is dark like the other guy's. Actually, all their hair is dark. There's something very similar in the shapes of their faces. I'd be willing to bet their eyes are all similar too.

There are also a set of twins that are very nice to look at. They tend to laugh a lot and wrestle in the grass.

The father often sits on the front deck watching the kids as if they're young. I wonder if he imagines them that way. Remembering them as kids playing in the yard.

"Okay," Honey Bee interrupts, leaning forward a foot or so. It's not like closing that little bit of extra distance is going to make our neighbors clearer. "I think they're in the witness protection program."

Briar laughs. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, they're all related. I think we can at least agree on that."

Me and Briar nod.

"And I think we all agree that they're very much adults. Not even a teenager in sight. Right?"

"Yeah," I agree, having just been thinking about that.

"Now, I know this generation's been living with their family longer because it's far too fucking expensive to live, but I feel that at least half of them are at least late twenties. And that they're all living under one roof? It's not even a cheap little suburban house. That thing was stupidly expensive, so it's likely not a financial situation that keeps them together."

"You're not suggesting something taboo, are you?" I ask, raising a brow.

She laughs. "I mean, to each their own, but no."

"Except perhaps the twins," Briar says, tilting his head to the side. "They wrestle an awful lot."

Honey Bee rolls her eyes. "What's the excuse parents use to excuse every boy behavior—boys will be boys?"

Briar smirks. "I'm not saying I care, I'm just saying. Maybe it's something I've seen that I can't quite put my finger on."

The three of us undoubtedly turn our attention to the wrestling twins. I don't witness anything that could be considered… well, as Briar alluded to—taboo. Wrestling has always looked rather gay to me. You can't show me a single image or video and convince me otherwise. Haze and I always used to joke that it's the straight man's way of copping a feel and not having to defend what he's doing.

Like them slapping each other's asses in sports. Honestly, what kind of encouragement or praise is that? ‘Nice job' with an ass slap. I've seen porn with that exact thing and not even a sports script in sight.

"I don't know. I think they're a little too… rowdy to be in protection," I say. "Wouldn't you try to stay out of public sight?"

"Like that's going to help you blend in," she disagrees, shaking her head. "No. Appearing like a normal family is much better camouflage."

"I'll give you that," Briar says, "but they're very obviously adults. I'm still trying to figure out why they all live together. Have you seen any of them with a girlfriend?"

"Or boyfriend," Honey Bee adds.

Briar shrugs. "Gender isn't the point."

"No," I say, "but to be fair, if that's the case, we all probably look like Honey Bee's lovers."

Briar snorts and Honey Bee grins. It wouldn't be the first time we'd heard that accusation. One of the most common snide remarks in high school was that we shared Honey Bee. And in case we weren't smart enough to figure out what they were alluding to, some would even tack on— you know, sexually.

At first we tried to defend our friendship, but that was exhausting. Instead, we began to just agree. Their look of stupidity when we didn't argue was usually pretty comical.

"My girlfriend thinks so too," Briar says, shrugging.

"I'm impressed she's still hanging around then," Honey Bee teases, turning her attention to Briar.

He shrugs again. "Probably not for much longer. She's trying not to be jealous, but she can't help herself. Especially once I told her we don't allow other people into our space. Not even serious girlfriends."

"Is it serious?" I ask.

Briar grins. "No. I mean, she has potential. I might have given you a different answer a month ago, before I began seeing her jealousy. But if she can't accept that my friends are my own and they're not going anywhere, and I don't have to share them with her, blah, blah, blah—then she's just not it for me."

Honey Bee gripped his knee. "Sorry, honey."

Briar is the only one of us that has been all about having a family and kids and whatever since we were young. He's always been a family man wanting that perfect love story. There were times he and I would talk about it extensively. Just kind of share our dreams together since they were similar.

Growing up, we had a bet that Briar would be married and have his first kid by the end of his first year of college. Believe me, he tried. Three girlfriends later, we realized our friendship was seriously a sticking point that served as an obstacle for his dreams.

I'd have been heartbroken if he'd decided that he needed distance from us. I think we all got a little teary and giddy when he quoted the girl band saying that their lover needs to get with their friends or bye bye bye. We even shared some seriously mushy group hugs too.

"Yeah." Briar takes a sip of his lemonade. "I'll find my girl at some point. Maybe not in college, but she's out there."

"Way to keep your head up," Honey Bee says.

Briar snorts. "Thanks for the encouragement."

We turn our attention back to the guys across the street and our game of trying to guess why they suddenly moved in. If they were college kids like us and rooming together to save money, I think none of us would question it. That's pretty common. Maybe not all that common in richy rich neighborhoods like Rolling Green Estates, but it's entirely possible that they have connections like we do.

But the longer they're there, the less convinced we are of this. I'm not entirely convinced they even work. They don't appear to have a regular schedule that takes them from the house.

Maybe they all work remotely…?

"I'm going to look at my homework," I say as I get to my feet and stretch. "Report back on the hotness if something is revealed."

"Done," Briar promises.

I head upstairs and spread out my books on my desk. There's a paper I've been working on for the past week. While I'm vaguely interested in the topic, papers are a little challenging for me. I'm never sure how to organize my thoughts, never mind format it in such a way to make sense.

It doesn't matter how many times I read the resources available on how to write a paper, they only get marginally better. I write out my thoughts and bullet points, then let my friends tell me what kind of order to put it in. Then Honey Bee has a last read through to make sure it makes sense. There have been days when she's rearranged my entire paper. She never changes a word of it, just makes the order work with the words I've written.

I'm in the writing stage now, having all my bullet points put into a reasonable outline that made sense to my friends. It flows decently this way, though there's always something that gives me pause as I try to tie everything together with transitions that make sense.

"Dude," Briar says as he shoves my door open. His sudden appearance makes me jump. I'm about to tease him that I could have been jerking off, but the look on his face stops me short. "You need to see this."

I follow him downstairs, unsure what to expect. It's definitely not a news story about a homicide. At first, I'm still not sure what's so interesting about it except that it's relatively close. Eighty miles from here.

It isn't until Jason's face pops up on the screen that my jaw drops and chills run through my body.

"Oh, my god," I whisper, feeling slightly guilty that I was so happy he'd finally disappeared from my life. I was giddy that the cops had managed to keep him away when, in reality, he hadn't been following me because he'd been murdered!

"Wait, what did they call him?" I ask as I fall onto the edge of the couch, eyes riveted on the screen.

I don't need to wait for an answer since his name is right below his picture. Based on what he's wearing, it's a mugshot from the day he was here two weeks ago. My stomach churns.

But what catches my attention more than what he's wearing is the name. Daniel Rollins-Alabaster. "That's not the name he told me," I whisper.

"They've already mentioned that," Honey Bee says as she scooches closer to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. "They mentioned you without actually naming you. Said that he was arrested for harassment that led to a restraining order earlier the day he was killed."

My eyes go wide. "He was… that day?"

"Well, that night," Haze says. "They're saying if they had to guess, he was killed directly following being released from custody. They're asking for anyone who has information to step forward."

"They're also calling the brutal murder a crime of passion," Briar says. "Someone wanted him to feel the pain."

I shudder.

"But they did say that he had been giving false names to those he's interacted with," Honey Bee adds. "After his body was found and identified, they searched his apartment and found half a dozen fake identifications—including Jason Adams, the name he gave you."

My stomach churns and I press my hand to it. "What does this mean?"

She shakes her head as the news changes stories. "Don't know. Except that he wasn't who he said he was and although we already knew this, he was likely a bad man."

"Whatever he was up to, you were his next victim," Levis says. "I'm not sorry he's dead."

I'm not entirely sure how I feel. Very clearly, the little pieces of the truth that we know point in the direction that this wasn't a good man. Not even just a man with a possessive streak. He was up to something.

It's sickening that nearly the first words to me out of his mouth were a lie—his name. Tears prickle my eyes because maybe everything was a lie. Everything he's ever said. Including all the nice things.

I'm not beautiful.

Everything he said was a means to manipulate me into… what? Dating him? But why?

Once again, I wasn't actually wanted. Even worse, my insecurities and desperate longing made me stupid enough to fall for his lies. Anyone who calls me beautiful is full of shit.

If I've learned anything from this, it's that. Compliments are red flags. Especially when they're said to me.

The knock on our front door pulls me from my thoughts and we all spin around to stare at it. Levis answers and I'm slightly shocked to see the police there, inquiring if they can come in to ask us some questions about Jason—uh… Daniel.

I get to my feet, feeling slightly numb. As they step inside, I see our neighbors outside watching. Only this time, I see a man I've never seen before. There's something about the way he's looking over here that makes me shiver.

Then the door is closed and I'm looking at two policemen.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.