The Space Between (The Book of Phoenix) (22 page)

Chapter 16

  So Micah had a girlfriend. And not just a girlfriend, but a
live-in
girlfriend. Awesome. Totally fucking awesome. So much for him being all alone. His entire sob story was probably a crock of dung.

“I don’t need this,” I muttered as I headed for the door. But the woman wouldn’t move.

“What? You think you’re gonna, like, mosey on outta here without an explanation?” she said. “Think again!”

“Geez, take a chill pill. I had no idea. Really.” I tried to shoulder my way past her so I could run far away from there before I either broke into sobs or busted my hand as I put it through something. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. Of course someone like Micah had a girlfriend. He was no different than any other jerkoff who had his looks, playing me like the dumb, naïve girl I was. And it didn’t help that she had a perfect body with bodacious curves and honey-colored, smooth-as-silk skin bared for all to admire. I wanted to put my hand through
her
.

When she shoved me back inside, I almost did.

“You think I’m, like, stupid or something?” she nearly yelled. “Nobody steals from me and walks away from it!”

My hands balled into fists at my sides, and I was about to take a swing.

“Who the hell are you?” Micah and the woman said at the same time.

Wearing only a towel around his waist and dog tags, he stood dripping wet in the bedroom doorway, and oh my god, was he a sight to see. But I was certainly glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of the glare he had for this woman.
Okay, I’ve misjudged things
. But if she wasn’t his live-in girlfriend, who was she?

“Did you just, like, take a shower in my house?” the woman screeched.

Micah strode several paces toward her. “You mean
my
house.”

“Excuse me? I’m so sure!” Her eyes traveled down Micah’s wet body and up again, and her voice went from salty to sweet. “I, like, think I know where I live, but if you’d, like, want to stay . . .”
Oh, gag me.
Then she looked over at me and back at him. “Just put the dog out first.”

I flew at the woman, but Micah’s arm darted out and wrapped around my waist. Oh, my god, I was up against his nearly naked body. The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she made a sound of disgust.

“I suggest you leave,” Micah said, his voice low and threatening. “You have no right coming into
my
place and treating my guest like this.”

The woman lifted an eyebrow. “Leave? Are you kidding? You both need to leave
my
place, or I’ll call the cops. Or better yet.” She turned and glanced out the still open door. “Here comes my Aunt Gracie. You, like, totally don’t want to mess with her.”

Micah’s arm around me loosened but didn’t let go. “Grace Jones? She’s your aunt?”

The woman recoiled with surprise. “You know her?”

“Of course. I’m watching her house for her. Taking care of the grounds.”

The woman chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I’m so sure. Are you high or something?”

“Martha? I heard all kinds of racket in here. What’s all the fuss about?” An older woman, about sixty years old and the kind of soft and plump you wanted to hug, appeared in the doorway. “Oh. Who’s this handsome young man? You didn’t tell me you met anyone.”

“I haven’t,” Martha said through clenched teeth as she folded her arms over her chest. “I, like, came home and found her in here and he was taking a shower in my bathroom.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” Micah said, “there must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

The older woman tilted her head as she peered at us. “Do I know you?”

Micah’s arm completely released me, and he took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Micah Humphrey. You hired me to take care of your place for the summer, remember? We met in March.”

Mrs. Jones smiled and shook Micah’s hand. “You’re right. There must be some misunderstanding.” Both Micah and I relaxed. “Martha’s my only house sitter. The only person I’d ever trust. I’ve never met you before in my life, young man. I think I would remember. You’re very handsome and charming.”

“Ma’am, I assure you we’ve met before. Angie introduced us, remember?”

“Angie?” Mrs. Jones’ eyes glassed over for a moment, then she shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know an Angie. I’m sorry for whatever misunderstanding there is here, but you must leave now, young man.”

“Mrs. Jones—” Micah began.

The sweet old lady pulled her glasses down her nose and peered over them, looking Micah squarely in the eyes. “Put some clothes on and get out of here now. If you do so quietly, I won’t call the police. I see you’re a soldier and not pressing charges for breaking and entering is my way of thanking you for your service. Do you understand?” She pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled sweetly again, though her eyes meant business.

Micah stared at her in disbelief for a long moment. Then his gaze went to Martha, and then came to me. He gave me an infinitesimal shake of his head before turning on his heel and heading for the bedroom.

“Excuse me,” I said softly. “I’m totally sorry for . . . this.”

I made a beeline out the door and for the truck, but then I wasn’t sure what to do. The old me would have kept on walking. My place was only about a mile away, and a walk on the beach sure sounded better than listening to excuses of a psycho who had been mooching off some poor old lady, living in her guesthouse without her even knowing it.

But things were different now. My life had become a Rubik’s cube, with new twists and turns every day creating a bigger, unsolvable mess. My own best friend and roommate had denied knowing me, so how hard was it to believe an old woman who’d met Micah only once would have forgotten him? Except she wasn’t
that
old and seemed to have her wits about her. And Micah was definitely unforgettable.

“
It starts with the people you know and love, and before long, your whole existence will be completely forgotten by this world.
” The shadow-man’s words echoed in my mind.

I had to give Micah the benefit of the doubt. After all, we were apparently in this together.

“Thank God you’re still here,” Micah said as he came jogging up to the truck, a huge army-green duffle bag in his hand. He swung it over the side of the bed and dropped it into the back. “I thought you would have booked by now.”

“Oh, I was tempted.”

He came around to my side of the truck and placed a hand on each of my cheeks. “I have no idea what just went down, but I’m going to find out. I need to make a phone call. Please believe me, Jace. I’m not some weirdo breaking into people’s houses and lying about it.”

His eyes told me his truth. “This is totally bogus, whatever’s going on, but, yeah, I believe you.”

He pulled me into his arms, and my heart went into overdrive.

“Thank you,” he said with a breath of relief. He kissed the top of my head, then let me go and opened my door for me. “We’ll go to the library first. I can use the pay phone there to call Angie. She was my last foster mother, the one who told me about Mrs. Jones. They’d been friends for years, according to Angie. Maybe she can explain what’s going on.”

When Micah tried to call her, though, her line had been disconnected. He called directory service for her state and all the ones surrounding it. Realizing he was grasping at straws, he slammed the phone into its cradle, making the bell ding. He braced his hands on the side of the phone booth, and his head hung as he glared at the ground. His jaw muscle twitched.

“Micah, don’t have a cow, but I have something to tell you,” I said from right outside the folding door, and he looked over his shoulder at me with anger sparking in his eyes.

The events from this morning might piss him off even more, which I didn’t exactly want to do, but he needed to know. What had happened to me was apparently happening to him. I told him all about my phone call with Bex and then what the Billy Idol dude’s voice had said afterward.

“What the hell does that mean?” he growled.

I could only shrug, because, like with everything else going on, I had no idea.

“Well, let’s see if we can find out.” He pushed out of the phone booth and strode for the library’s front doors.

As soon as we walked inside, I drew in a deep breath, loving the musty fragrance of old books and leather bindings. But this little place resembled a home library compared to the one at school. The university library had several floors of nothing but books, with a few computers in one section for students to write papers, although I never used them. The machines scared me, except for the one where I could look up books by author or subject and the screen would tell me what section the book was in, which was pretty convenient. Here, they only had the standard card catalog. And not much of a selection, especially non-fiction. So much for doing extensive research.

Not that we had time anyway. We still needed to return to the lumber store and buy me a new door, and Micah wouldn’t leave me alone and vulnerable. As everything became more bizarre by the hour, I really didn’t want to be alone anyway. So together we found a couple of promising books, and Micah checked them out using his card, since I didn’t even have a local driver’s license. I was pleasantly surprised he had a library card.

By the time we arrived home, the sun dangled low over the Gulf, my door hung open, and Sammy was gone.

“Anything missing?” Micah asked from behind me as I gaped at the mess from the doorway.

The nice, neat pile of suitcases and bags I’d brought in from the Jeep was now strewn throughout the main room, my stuff dumped out of them.

“Yeah. My dog. Who cares about the rest of this stuff?” I pushed past him and ran down the stairs, yelling Sammy’s name.

When I paused for a breath, a scurrying sound came from the overgrown bushes. My stomach flipped and my heart stuttered with the thought of the two men from last night diving into those same bushes.

“Sammy?” I said, my voice a little shaky with trepidation as I slowly moved toward the sound. A twig snapped and a puppy-like whine came from the bushes. I inched closer, worried he was hurt, but also afraid I was walking into a trap. “You okay, boy?”

Silence answered me. I moved closer then crouched down, trying to peer into the bushes. I reached a hand out to move a branch to the side. A large, dark shadow flew at me, a lot like the one this morning by the pay phone. I screamed, and tried to jump to my feet and run, but terror made me clumsy. The object plowed into me, knocking me on my back. The breath flew out of my lungs as stars wavered in my vision. Something wet dragged over my cheek.

My eyes focused on the square, yellow head, dark brown eyes and black nose hovering right over my face. A pink tongue darted out and covered my cheek again.

“Sammy!” I shrieked with joy this time and threw my arms around his neck.

My joy at finding him safe, though acting a little funny, quickly changed to disappointment when we entered the efficiency. Sammy had never misbehaved so badly, but it explained his strange, timid behavior right now.

“Sammy, did you do this?” I said accusingly. His head sunk and his tail drooped between his legs.

“Not unless he can work zippers,” Micah said as he squatted over one of my bags and a pile of clothes next to it.

My gaze slid over the mess. Every bag and suitcase remained intact, gaping at the zipped or snapped openings, and my stuff was in fairly neat piles, as if dumped, rather than each piece being pulled out one at a time and strewn around the room. The clothes weren’t folded—they’d definitely been rifled through—but this wasn’t the kind of mess a dog would make. My skin crawled, and I felt dirty and grimy. Violated.

Micah took my hand and dragged me across the street to the pay phone to call the police because he refused to leave me alone even for a few seconds. I staggered in a daze after him. All I really wanted was a shower. The police came, briefly investigated and took our reports.

“You didn’t notice anything missing?” the blond cop asked me.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t have anything of much value.”

“Anything they’d be searching for?”

“No.” I shook my head again. “And who? Nobody knows me here. What would they think I had?”

The cop chuckled. “Everybody—the locals anyway—knows you’re here. It’s a small town, ma’am. Unfortunately, we do have our riffraff. They were probably looking for jewelry or other valuables. I’m sorry this happened to you.” He nodded at my door. “I suggest you fix the door and put a good bolt lock on it. Doesn’t look like that mutt of yours is much of a guard dog.”