11. Chase You. Taste You.

September

I feel a shiver come over me as I run the pads of my two fingers over the scar on my stomach. I lose myself in the kaleidoscope of colors as the wind swirls the leaves around outside the window as I zone out. Even though I should be paying attention to Hunter, I can't seem to focus on anything other than what's outside my window, even though there's nothing there. It's my first day back to work since River's death. I needed more time after I was shot, the extent of which I still don't recall. I recall being in a dark room with the men in masks, but nothing else comes to mind. Hunter clears his throat, attempting to get my attention. Reluctantly, I rip my eyes away from the window and force a smile, hoping it meets my eyes.

"Is everything okay, Dr. Stone?" Hunter asks, his bright blue eyes shining brightly.

"I'm fine, Hunter, and please, it's just Miss Stone, no doctor." For some reason, I never wanted to be announced as a doctor. The title just never felt right to me.

"Sorry, I kind of like "doctor"."

"We are not doing this today, Hunter. We"re here to discuss what"s going on with you." Trying to keep the conversation professional, I ignore his flirting and flip through his chart, skimming my notes. When I realize that his release date is near Halloween, another unfavorable emotion comes over me, but I try to push it away as I turn to face him and put on another fake smile.

"So, let"s talk about how you feel about getting released."

Instead of going straight home after work, I go to the bar down the street from my apartment. Since River was killed, I've been mired in thought, and I haven't discovered a way to dig myself out of the hole. I take the seat at the far end of the bar, closest to the door, in case I need to leave quickly. I"ve always been like that when I go places. The bartender spots me the second I sit down and brings me a beer and a shot, walking away with a smile, knowing it"s what I"ve been ordering every time I come in. I was never a big drinker. I liked to trip more, but alcohol seemed to numb the pain more than ecstasy or acid. I down the shot in one gulp and then take a sip of my beer, barely registering the burn. There"s another one slid over to me, and I toss it down my throat. I scan the bar, noticing the regulars I"ve been seeing the past month, but one stands out, and I"ve seen him before. Where, though? I return my gaze to the shot in my hand, chasing number three with my last sip of beer.

"Did you want another?" I recognize the man I am staring at as he slides onto the empty stool beside me, propping his elbows on the bar.

"Sure." I shrug, accepting the drink and nodding to the bartender for another beer too.

"Rough day or something?" He asked when I finally turned my head, taking in all the tattoos covering his body. I've seen him at the beach... and the lake. He grins, noticing my expression as if he realizes I know who he is.

"I suppose you could say that. Hey, you were at the lake that night, weren"t you?"

"Yeah, we all were." Bits and pieces of what happened start to rush back to me as he gives me the same smirk he gave me that night. Nothing makes sense, though. Everything is still a huge fucking blur.

"Scarlett, right?"

"Yeah, that"s right. I"m not even going to try to guess your name because I have no idea."

"Nixon, but some call me white." As he runs his fingertips across my forearm, my hair stands on end, and goosebumps prickle my skin, sending a chill down my spine.

I want to remove my arm, but something in his eyes prevents me from doing so. My eyes fix on him as my body freezes to the stool, and I notice that his grin is growing progressively more menacing.

"Where"s your friends you were with that night?" He asks, his gaze never leaving mine as he takes his shot.

"Melanie is doing her own thing, and River... well, River is no longer with us." His brows knit together with curiosity.

"Meaning what?" He prods, trying to decipher the message hidden behind my cryptic response.

"He was murdered that night." He doesn"t even flinch as I say it, which gives me a rather uncomfortable chill, but I ignore it and look away from him, refusing to let him see the tears forming behind my eyes. He places his hand on my arm, putting an end to the tickling his fingers were doing. The simple gesture causes me to turn my head and smile, meeting kind eyes rather than evil ones. I return his smile, forgetting about the gut feeling I had when he first came over, as the alcohol does its job of loosening me up.

"I"m sorry about your friend, Scarlett. Did they find out who did it?" I can hear genuine sympathy in his voice, which calms my frayed nerves.

"Thank you, but no, not yet." Helicoptering my finger around, I signal to the bartender for another round, just wanting to forget about the hell that River went through for one night.

"Did you want another drink?" I ask Nixon, a smile on my lips as we lock eyes once more.

"My treat this time," I add, offering him another flirty smile.

"Sure, I"d love to drink with you." When our drinks are placed in front of us, neither of us hesitates to finish them. My cheeks quickly become hot and rosy. I"ve been laughing for a while at something he said that wasn"t that funny, and I feel more relaxed than I have in the past month. Other than just that night at the lake, which I can't even completely recall, something about Nixon seems familiar. Two hours after entering the bar, Nixon stands up and approaches me from behind, placing his hand on my lower back and setting off small internal fireworks. No one has touched me like that since River… and the men in the masks.

"I"m going out to smoke a cigarette. Do you want to join me?" He smiles and whispers into my ear, tickling the skin on my neck with the warmth of his breath, which causes me to shiver.

"Yeah, sure." I agree, throw a few bills on the bar to pay for my drinks, and eventually leave the bar voluntarily with Nixon, not knowing what tonight will bring.

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