Chapter Twenty Three - Part One

Everyone in the room is speechless. Juliet’s eyes move from me to Maxwell just as my eyes move from Maxwell to her.

The sound of Juliet’s dry throat clearing fills the room. “You brought your secret boyfriend.” Obviously no one can beat the sarcasm out of her.

“Yes. No.” I can feel a blush creeping up my neck to pool in my cheeks.

I look over her scrapes and bruises, her cast and IVs. This was a message and message has been received. The tension in the room is thick, too thick for my liking. “You know what, I’m going to get some coffee and a snack from the vending machines downstairs. Do you want anything?” I look at both of them only to be polite as I take a few steps toward the door. Maxwell follows my lead. “You can stay here and get some juicy dirt on me from my bestie,” I say to him, holding up my hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I know she wants the dish on you.”

“Twizzlers,” Juliet demands before I finally depart the room.

I look one last time at Maxwell; his expression is a mix of worry and dread. I’m forcing space between us and he isn’t happy about it. But I am in a heavily occupied building, a hospital no less.

At a steady pace, I pass doctors and nurses until I reach the corridor that the vending machines are down. Seeing it’s somewhat late in the evening, most visitors are gone, leaving these halls vacant. My footsteps echo, playing tricks on my ears. It sounds as though I’m not the only one in these deserted halls. The lights flicker above my head, causing me to catch my breath.

With the little nook that holds the variety of machines full of choices within sight, I make a run for it. My shoes squeak against the tiled floor as I screech to a stop. A nurse, who seems to be just as petrified as I am, swings around at my surprising arrival. Unlike her fear, which is caused by me scaring her, my own fear is brought on by these creepy halls. “Sorry, so sorry,” I apologize.

“These halls can be spooky late at night, believe me. I’ve asked the maintenance crew to fix that light for weeks now and they continue to ignore me,” the nurse says in a comforting tone. “It’s like they’re waiting for someone to get murdered before they do their job,” she jokes, although I don’t find it funny. Watching her leave, I can’t help but to be relieved.

“Waiting for someone to be murdered? Who says that to a stranger?” I whisper to myself when I know she’s long gone, leaving me alone in the dank nook.

I can’t believe I scared that poor woman due to my own paranoia. It does make me less regretful that she scared me in return. However, all I can think about is Maxwell’s words of staying in well populated areas. These halls are anything but well populated.

I start my coffee while I search the various machines for the lucky one that holds Twizzlers. The reflection of the hall behind me shows on the glass locking away all the food. I try not to pay attention to it, because I haven’t had the best of luck with reflections. Tonight proves to be like all the others. A man strides behind me. A flash of green eyes is the only defining attribute I see.

Instantly, my palms rub harshly at my eyes as my brain tries to tell my pounding heart to relax, that what I just saw was my mind playing tricks on me. Although, it isn’t that easy…it never is. With shaking hands that barely contain the coffee in its cup and crush the licorice, I race away from what is starting to feel like a death trap. My eyes watch the brown liquid swish in the cup as I make my way back to Juliet’s room or at least a hall that has more people. My friend’s words of ‘green eyes’ repeat in my head.

“Jesus.” Coffee spills out of the cup and onto the floor. Some of the hot fluid drips onto my forearm. My nose and forehead ache from making impact with something hard, but with my hands occupied, I can’t rub at my face to ease the pain.

“Charlie, are you okay? I felt your fear and I got worried. I didn’t mean for you to spill your coffee.” He lifts my hand to observe the burn that disguises itself as a faint red mark on my arm. “We can put some ice on it when we get back to Juliet’s room.”

“He’s here…I saw him, the man with the green eyes…I saw him, Maxwell, I swear. Green eyes. Juliet can only remember green eyes and I saw green eyes behind me in the reflection of the glass.” Tears are on the verge of spilling over the brim of my eyes.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I never cry or show weakness, but knowing that someone put your friend in the hospital for no reason at all other than to prove some sick point only makes being brave that much harder.

Maxwell takes my coffee out of my hand and wraps his free arm around me. “It could be anyone. If it is him, he won’t do anything, not here…not in a hospital. Not when he knows I’m nearby.”

“Yea, heaven forbid that I get stitched back up before I have a chance to die.” My words are muffled due to the fact that he’s smothering me against his chest. I try to make a joke out of the situation, but it doesn’t work.

Gradually, we make our way into Juliet’s room. Maxwell looks over his shoulder the whole way there, but Mr. Green-Eyed Stranger doesn’t show his face again. I put an apologetic smile on my face as I hand Juliet the crushed package of Twizzlers. All she does is raise her eyebrows in amusement before she tries to rip the package open.

“Here.” I take the package back, tear it open and give it back to her. “Are you sure I’m not going to get into trouble giving you these?”

She shugs her shoulders as much as she can before placing a red rope in her mouth, audibly snapping a bite off with her teeth.

With a glance behind me I see Maxwell’s back to me. He stands in front of the sink in the room. Just as fast as the water turns on, it turns off. Maxwell moves my coffee to my unburned arm and proceeds to place the ice-cold paper towel on the burn mark. Instantly, the cold soothes the fiery burn.

“What the hell happened to you? The machines downstairs attack you or something?” Juliet questions me. “Are you trying to steal my glory? I mean I nearly die and still don’t get eye candy to take care of me.” She whispers through her dry mouth.

“Ha. Ha. I spilled my coffee on myself. It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I say, trying to take my arm out of Maxwell’s grasp, but he refuses to let go.

The three of us are lost in our own little worlds. Maxwell stares at my arm, Juliet chews her licorice, and I silently sip my coffee.

After four pieces ate and questioning eyes staring at me, Juliet speaks with her still raspy voice. “I get to leave on Wednesday.” She shakes her arms in the air…well, one arm in the air with excitement. “I want you to come over and help me settle in.” It’ll be three days that she’s been in here by the time she gets discharged.

“Settle in? It’s not like you’re moving into a new house. Are you?” I’m confused at her words. Does she mean keep her company?

“I should after what happened. I only have one arm, Charlie, one arm for six weeks. You need to feel sorry for me…I feel sorry for me, if that helps.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. You don’t know how awful I feel about you only having one arm and a purple face. I’ll vacuum your floors, do your dishes and whatever else you need help with. Almost whatever else you could possibly need help with,” I correct myself. Who knows what she’s going to ask me to do.

“You’re going to do my dishes? How sweet, I wasn’t going to ask you to do my dishes, but since you offered.” Her hand goes to her chest, covering her heart as if she’s touched by my offer. The cocky smile on her face counteracts her genuineness.

“What were you going to ask me to do? I can see it, it’s written all over your face. Come on, what is it?” Preparing myself for the worst possible thing, I patiently wait.

“Nothing worse than dishes. There’re a lot of splinters of wood all over my foyer and living room, so I was going to ask you to sweep my hard wood floors and…”

“And what?” I say, getting slightly annoyed.

“Janessa says there’s dried blood on my kitchen floor.” She says it so fast I almost don’t catch it.

“What? Why can’t she clean it? She’s your sister, after all. I mean, you two have the same blood, don’t you?” Cleaning blood, her dried blood off the floor is not the worst thing I thought of, but it’s pretty high on the gross list.

“She almost passed out thinking about my broken arm earlier today. Why do you think she’s not here?” With her bottom lip puckered out, she resembles a begging child.

I thought I owed her; however, she now owes me...well not as much as I still owe her. “Fine, I’ll be there Wednesday. Call me when you get discharged. I’m going to go home to get some rest before I have to turn into a housemaid.” I give her a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay. See you later.”

As soon as we’re close to exiting the building, Maxwell breaks the silence that lingers between us. “It could have been much worse. She’s in quite well shape for having an encounter with a vengeful vampire, if I might say.”

“If you might say? Really?” I don’t know what else to say to that besides the fact that he’s right. She could be dead or in a coma or paralyzed. But a broken arm, a head injury, and being covered in bruises is bad, but not bad to its fullest extent.

Without warning, Maxwell’s arm jolts out, forcing me to a stop. He stands stiff as a board, staring into the nearly empty parking lot. There’s a mix of shock and anger on his face. I look into the parking lot, trying to spot what he sees, but give up soon after. It’s pitch black out here, and if the object or person isn’t in the glow of the lamp posts, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to see it.

“Give me your keys, Charlie,” he says, barley moving his lips with his eyes still staring out into the lot.

“What? Why?” He’s not telling me something and part of me thinks that if I demand an answer I’ll get one.

“I’m taking you home, Charlie, just give me your keys,” he says, facing me head-on. His voice is uneasy.

Dropping my keys in his open hand, I allow him to walk me to my car held tightly in his grasp. Almost at the passenger side door is when I see it, a silhouette leaning against one of the nearby cars. Involuntarily, my fingernails dig into Maxwell forearm as the person leisurely walks into the closest pool of light that one of the lamp posts creates. His green eyes stare at me from afar. A sly smile spreads across his lips as he nods our way.

Maxwell has his back to the man and before he can turn around, he’s gone.

“He...he…” I mumble.

“Yes, Charlie. Let’s just go.”

Once he slams the door shut, he stands there with his back up against the door and stares off in the direction of where the green-eyed stranger just was. I shuffle in my seat, trying to get a good look at the expression on Maxwell’s face. But before I can figure out which way I have to get a good look Maxwell makes his way to the driver’s side.

I can’t help but to stare at the lamp post the green-eyed man was under as we leave the parking lot. Seeing the lot get farther away eases some of the strain of my tensing muscles, but not all of it. It isn’t like he doesn’t know where I live.