Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Memory: Book Two (Scars 2)
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On
impulse, I reached over and touched the back of his neck, gently rubbing
against his skin. He didn’t move, in fact, he seemed to stiffen under my touch.
Slowly, I removed my hand. It didn’t matter then, because he swung the car into
a parking lot outside a diner with a 1950s theme. It didn’t look familiar, but
I was used to that by now.

“Do
we come here often?” I asked as we exited the car and I followed him through
the doors.

“No.”
He slid into a booth and I sat on the opposite side from him. A bored looking
waitress came over with menus, passing one to me first without cracking any
kind of smile. Then she turned to Aaron, and a complete change came over her.
She mustn’t have spotted him as he came in, because a wide smile spread over
her face and her shoulders were pulled back to show off her cleavage in a more
spectacular fashion. She was pretty enough, I supposed, but she was aging and
even the thick make-up she had slathered on didn’t disguise that.

“Hi,
can I get you some coffee?” she asked Aaron, her voice sweet like she wanted to
be asking if he wanted something else. I wondered if I should be jealous. Was
that what I was like? I hoped not. I never wanted to be one of
those.
I
never wanted to be the kind of girl trapped by such insecurity over a guy that
she couldn’t help the insanity that spewed forth from her in response.

He
smiled back at her. It was a nice smile that showed even white teeth, and it
made him look even more handsome. “Yes, please…Mandy.” He read her name tag
that sat on a plump breast encased in the yellow polyester of her uniform. She
beamed that he used her name, and shifted so he had the opportunity to admire
her chest from another angle. I wondered what would happen if she removed her
bra — those breasts would probably plummet as two sagging, heavy bags; fit for
feeding but past their use by date for sex. I shivered at the thought. I had
never liked milk.

“I’ll
be back in a minute to take your order.” She showed her own teeth now, they
were crooked and nicotine stained. Any beauty I had thought she may have
possessed earlier now evaporated.

“I’ll
have a coffee as well,” I said pointedly before she walked away. Her eyes
darted to me quickly, as if only remembering that I were there.

“Sure.”

I
switched my gaze to Aaron, sure that he would be staring at her ass, but he
wasn’t. His eyes were on me. “Do you have that effect on all women?”

There
was the merest twitch of his lips, but not so much that it could be called a
smile. “Sometimes.”

I
began to play with the salt shaker, I didn’t know why I found it so hard to
look at him. “Did you have that effect on me when we first met?”

“No.”

I
shifted in my seat, and the vinyl squeaked. I was tempted to pour the salt out
onto the table and create a pile that would continually ebb away. Who turned to
salt in the bible as punishment? Lot’s wife? It was something to do with sodomy
anyway. My mouth twisted slightly as I thought of
him
and the pain, but
I managed to push that memory away.

“What
then? What did I think of you?” I still couldn’t lift my eyes to meet his, but
I knew that he was staring at me.

“You’ll
remember all of that soon enough, Rachel.”

I
sighed, gripping the salt shaker. “I hate mysteries. When I was a kid I used to
always read the last page of a book first because I couldn’t stand the
suspense. Did you do that?”

“I
was never much of a reader.”

“What
did you like doing when you were a kid?”

Moments
of silence passed, before he finally said, “Hunting.”

I
raised my eyes then. “You liked killing things?”

As
predicted, his hard stare was on me and it gave me that deer in headlights
feeling, but I did my best not to let it show.

He
was silent for a moment, as if he were thinking. “I like the tracking, the
finding and predicting what move they would make next.”

The
squeak of the waitress’s sneakers interrupted, she had more bounce in her step
now as she placed down our coffees. “Ready to order?” she asked Aaron, still
revealing those awful teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll
have the hotcakes,” I said loudly. I got given a slight nod of acknowledgement
before her attention was on Aaron again. He flashed her another beautiful
smile.

“I’ll
have the pancetta omelette. Thanks, Mandy.”

“You’re
welcome,” she giggled before bouncing off, sneakers squeaking across the vinyl.
It was my turn to stare at him.

“Why
are you so friendly to
her?

Amusement
crossed his face. “I didn’t want to be rude. She might spit in our food.”

“I
think you’ll be okay, but she’s probably out the back right now poisoning
mine…” I said grimly.

His
lips flicked up into a proper smile this time and he gave a slight laugh. “Nah.
I don’t think she’s the underhanded type. She’d probably come after you openly
with a kitchen knife, or scissors maybe.”

I
snorted. “You like reading people? What kind of killer would I be?”

A
serious look came over his face, as if he were giving it considerable thought.
“I think,” he began, “that you’d screw with someone. That you’d manipulate and
twist whoever the poor guy was until he didn’t know which way was up and he
felt his only choice was to take his own life. He would think that he loved
you, but that love wouldn’t be real. It would just be a game to you.” He leaned
back in his seat, casually like he hadn’t just delivered an insult.

I
blinked, stunned, while my heart beat harder because this guy had just hit on
the truth. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I muttered, sliding out of the
booth and careful not to meet his eyes again. As I walked past her, I saw the
waitress start again in Aaron’s direction. She was probably going to give him
her number. If so, she was welcome to him.

Once
in the bathroom, I locked myself in a cubicle and rested my head against the
wall, taking deep breaths to get myself under control. That guy didn’t know
anything, why was I getting so worked up? I moved my head from the wall and
pulled my shoulders back. The urge to cry was still in me, so I just
concentrated on reading the graffiti on the walls instead. Someone called Bella
declared her love for Vince in bold, black pen. Someone else thought Lizzie was
a slut who did anyone for money, and had made a crude drawing of poor Lizzie
down on her knees with a cock in her mouth and dollar signs dancing around her.
Life could be worse, I reasoned, I could be Lizzie. But then I thought about it
more and figured in some ways I
was
Lizzie. My head hurt all of a
sudden, and I didn’t think that it was because of my injury.

Minutes
passed before I managed to pull myself out of the bathroom. I forced a smile at
myself in the mirror, but it didn’t even convince me. In the booth near the
door sat a group of teenagers. They were laughing and flirting with each other
and all looked so fresh faced that suddenly I felt old. I stared at them as I
walked past, before dragging my eyes to where Aaron sat, looking beautiful yet
so cold.

In
my absence, Mandy the waitress had brought our food. It smelled great but I
wasn’t that hungry anymore.

“Are
you okay?” Aaron asked as I slid into my seat.

“Yeah.”
I picked up my fork. “Just a headache.” I dug the fork into my food, spearing a
tiny amount onto it and bringing it to my mouth. It tasted dry like it was
premade and had just been reheated. We ate in silence, but the laughter of the
teenagers drifted over and I wished that I were with them instead. I darted
several looks at Aaron, his attention was on his food. He didn’t shovel it in
like a lot of guys; he was graceful in his movements like an animal, a cat
maybe, or a wolf.

I
put my utensils down on the plate and he looked up at the small sound that I made.
“You don’t like your food?”

“I’m
not that hungry anymore.” I pushed the plate away from me as his eyes went back
to his own plate, spearing the remainder of his omelette with his fork. I
waited until he had swallowed before I spoke. “When did you fall in love with
me?”

He
didn’t pause in his movement; there was no indication that what I had asked
evoked any memory, good or bad. His fork went down on his now empty plate and
he leaned back. “What do you mean?”

I
took a breath. “I mean, that you’re supposed to be my boyfriend, aren’t you?
That means that you’re supposed to love me…so, when did you fall in love with
me?” I forced myself to keep my eyes on his. I didn’t want to miss anything.

But
Mandy the waitress screamed and a plate smashed. My earlier irritation rose
again at this bitch stealing my moment. But that died when I saw the guy waving
the gun. He looked ridiculous with floppy blond hair falling across his
forehead while the rest was trapped by a baseball cap, and his pants loose on
his hips. One hand tugged up his jeans as if he weren’t completely comfortable
with that style, while the other flung the gun from side to side like it were a
toy. All his power was in that hand — it gave him confidence, it gave him
meaning, maybe for the first time in his young life.

He
let go of his pants, and put his finger to his lips. “Shush, hush, shut the
fuck up, bitch!” he laughed in a sing song voice, making some kind of hip hop
dance move. Then his laugh grew louder, rhythmic and annoying like a hyena; especially
designed to irritate. My nails curled into the table as I thought about getting
under it. I stole a look at Aaron, and to my surprise he had a slight smile on
his face as if this whole frightening ordeal amused him.

“Hey!
You shut up and get her to open the till,” another young man yelled from the
far end of the diner. He stood by the teenagers from whom whimpering sobs could
be heard. “Shut up!” he snarled at them, brandishing his own weapon openly now.
“Hand over your phones, wallets and jewelry.”

I
looked back at Aaron in alarm, he had one elbow resting on the back of his seat
so he could turn to watch the goings on uninterrupted. I fingered the necklace
I wore. It was the one that the nurse had pointed out to me when I had woken
up. It felt heavy and expensive, and I was loath to let it go to these
dickheads with the guns. Mandy managed to open the till between sobs and the
younger guy poured it into the waiting backpack before ordering her down on the
floor. She didn’t need to be told twice, diving down behind the counter. Then
he started on the rest of the booths.

Aaron
didn’t look nervous at all as he approached. His gun went straight to point at
Aaron while his eyes rested on me. “Hi, pretty bitch. Hand over the sparkly
piece of metal you’ve got around that skinny neck of yours.”

I
couldn’t move, although I desperately willed my fingers to go to the clasp and
release it. “Didn’t you hear me, bitch? Take it off!” He bared his teeth, and
finally my shaking hands unfroze.

“Don’t
touch it, Rachel,” Aaron said smoothly, his eyes never moving from the would-be
thief.

“The
fuck did you say?” he spat.

“I
said—” Aaron moved before I could suck in a shaky breath. The palm of his hand rammed
into the nose of the young guy, blood spurted as he stumbled back, dropping the
gun. Aaron stood calmly, and delivered a swift kick to his throat. The guy
dropped, clutching at his throat. The final kick was to his face. Just one, and
that was all that was needed to cause teeth to fly.

“Hey!”
 The other guy ran towards us, fumbling with his own gun, but it escaped from
his hands and clattered across the floor, sliding to a stop at Aaron’s feet. I
expected Aaron to scoop it up, but instead he sat down, leaving the menacing
item lying on the dirty floor between him and the clumsy thief.

The
boy’s eyes were wide as he looked on in horror and confusion, his limbs frozen
to the spot. Aaron shrugged. “Go on, get your weapon.”

The
boy blinked at him, shifting now on his feet, unsure if this was a trick. Aaron
just tilted his head, smiling like he was enjoying the show. Other people
enjoyed movies and books for entertainment; my so-called boyfriend enjoyed
chaos and terror. “Go on now,” Aaron said in a coaxing voice. “It’s only fair
that you have a gun, after all.”

The
boy gulped and then, with shaking hands, grabbed the gun, lifting it and
pointing it at Aaron, or maybe me. It was hard to tell because it jerked with
the boy’s nerves, and surely his sweating hands couldn’t have any kind of good
grip on it. He took great gulping breaths, his skinny chest shuddering under
his oversized t-shirt. His eyes were still wide-open like he couldn’t blink now
if he wanted too. We waited, fear coursing through me, and Aaron casual as ever
without any movement to indicate that he was even moving. His eyes were glued
to the boy, and I knew all too well which of them were the prey.

Finally,
the boy moved. He dropped the gun, and someone screamed in anticipation of it
going off, but it didn’t. He ran, skidding on the floor before bursting through
the glass doors and was soon out of sight. I moved my eyes to Aaron,
speechless. He casually pulled out his wallet and extracted some cash, throwing
the notes on the table.

BOOK: Memory: Book Two (Scars 2)
4.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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