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Three days roll by, and I don’t hear from Crispen. The awkwardness between us is more than apparent. Usually he’s over here nearly constantly and texting me when he’s not. It’s awkward for me, because I just found out he might have feelings for me, and it’s awkward for him, because I kissed him, then he had to reject me, pretending he had feelings for me to not embarrass me. To top it off, he now thinks I’m like in love with him or something. Does he regret what he said, or is he just giving me the space he thinks I need? I mean, he can’t actually have feeling for me, can he? If he does have feelings for me, then why hasn’t he been over? The fact that he’s avoiding me leads me to believe that he lied about his feelings for me, and it’s now awkward, because he doesn’t know that I don’t actually have feelings for him.
What are we supposed to say to each other now? Where do we go from here? Do we pretend like nothing has happened and go on like we were before? Somehow I can’t see that working. We’ll have to at least talk about this. Even if we go on like nothing happened, it won’t be the same. Have I really just ruined my one and only relationship? Lost my one and only friend?
I spend the day cleaning to take my mind off of things. On the plus side, staying in my house alone at night has proven to be less scary than anticipated. I expected to be flinching at every sound like I was right after my run in with Landon and Blayk. I think I have Crispen to thank for my calmness. I can’t believe that he’s stayed with me every night since then, just to make sure I’m okay. He probably knew how silly my fears were, and still, he stayed with me just to reassure me. It all kind of seems silly now. I mean, I obviously over reacted about the whole getting stalked and killed thing. Blayk and Landon seem like nothing more than a dream these days, a terrible dream. It almost feels as if my mind came up with the whole thing. I mean honestly, interconnecting houses? That’s nuts!
My cleaning and thoughts are interrupted when the doorbell rings. I check the peephole. It’s about the time for the girl scouts to be coming around with cookies, and I’m a little excited to get my hands on a few boxes. After all, they only come around once a year. Unfortunately, there are no girl guides at my door, instead, Crispen stands on my doorstep.
I hesitate before opening the door slowly and pasting a smile on my face. “Hello,” I greet him. I’m more than excited to see him, but I just don’t know what to say. It’s seriously all so awkward now.
“Hey,” he replies, equally as awkward and hesitant. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He scratches his head just above his left ear nervously. Why is he apologizing? I’m the one who basically raped him in the bar parking lot with kisses! Thinking about my action brings on a whole new wave of embarrassment. Why did I have to do that? Do I crave a relationship that badly? No, and that’s the thing. I have no reason or excuse for what I did. Who just randomly kisses their guy best friend?
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry for being such an idiot. I’ve been all doom and gloom lately, and I think that having you around so much helping me and stuff just...”
He cuts me off, as I’m about tell him that he’s right, and we shouldn’t be together that way, because we hardly know each other. He’ll still think I’m into him, and I’ll still think he’s into me, but at least then he doesn’t think he’s hurt my feelings or something by rejecting me. “Are you about to blame my helping you on making you attracted to me? If you are, that’s pretty rude,” he jokes, but I see sadness in his eyes. Why is he so confusing? Are all men like this?
“No, I just think that I got wrapped up in everything. I’ve only known you for a few weeks. It’s not like I can feel anything more for you than friendship,” I ramble on nervously. I’m only making things worse, and I know it.
“You don’t think so? We’ve spent almost five weeks straight together. I think that’s more than enough time to decide if you like someone as more than a friend. Of course, I don’t think it’s enough time to fall in love with someone, but I think it’s enough time to decide whether or not you want to see someone. See someone as in date someone.” Suddenly he looks deep in thought. He takes a deep breath and then continues. Have I hurt his feelings by blaming the kiss on something other than true feelings? “I really like you, Megan, I do, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that, you’ve been really open and straightforward with me, and I haven’t been the same with you. In fact, you know next to nothing about me.”
“I know that you love pizza, you’re a doctor, your uncle sells houses, you love watching TV, and you recently moved here...” I list off. He knows next to everything about me. I’ve spent hours and hours telling him about me and my life, but it was always one way. He’s right, I hardly know anything about him. Anytime I try to get something out of him, he changes the subject.
“Yeah, and that’s all you know about me basically. Thing is, you ask about me all the time, and I find a way to evade your questions, because I can’t answer them truthfully without putting you in danger,” he mutters. Then he digs into his pocket. He pulls out something silver and green. It’s my father’s ring.
I gape. Where the hell did he get that?
“It’s not your father’s. It’s mine,” he explains to my confusion. He turns the ring, so I can read what is scrolled on the interior. In the same font as my father’s ring, ‘Crispen Ranchiller’ is written on this piece of jewelry. Crispen told me once that his last name was Desmond. Ranchiller is the last name of the guy on the inside of my father’s ring. Are they related or something?
It doesn’t take long for my mind to throw together the pieces. This gang or whatever my father was somehow involved with, Crispen must also be involved in. Those guys that kidnapped me, he must be one of them or wanted by them. What if Crispen is the guy who they sent to kill me? If so, why hasn’t he yet?
He watches me carefully and takes a step back, letting me breathe. I’m tempted to throw the door in his face, but I don’t. Obviously he’s come here to explain something, and quite frankly, I’m desperate for answers.
“I have to be careful with what I tell you because too much information can be dangerous for you, but I hate lying to you. First of all, Megan, it’s not a gang. It’s a....family business so to speak,” he offers, still watching me intently. “It is for this reason, this ring and this business that we cannot be more than friends. I’ve done some research on your father and this Darius Ranchiller. Darius was a distant cousin of mine sort of. Your father killed him. Your father made it his duty to kill anyone wearing a ring like this one here. He collected the rings afterwards as some sort of trophy. He must’ve forgotten to take my cousins when he ran from you and your mother.”
I have to physically refrain from letting my jaw drop. He can’t be serious. How would he find out this information anyway?
“You expect me to believe this?” my mouth speaks without consulting my brain.
“Believe whatever you want, but I assure you that this is the truth,” he attempts with a soft, cautious smile. “I mean it’s as truthful information as I can give you without putting you in danger. What I’m saying, Megan, is that we can’t be more than friends, because our families have hated each other for a very long time. You and I were born to be enemies. You and I even being friends is a pretty far stretch, but I like you. I like you an awful lot,” he sums up quickly. “I want to be friends with you, even if it’s wrong.”
How is it wrong? If what he says is true, then our families are enemies, and that doesn’t mean that we have to be. I look at him dubiously. Am I really going to believe all of this? Has he lied to me yet? No, but he has refrained from telling me the whole truth. He’s sort of known what’s been going on from the beginning, and he’s kept it from me.
“Do you have proof?” I ask him, throwing my hand on my hip with sass. I know this is silly. The ring is enough proof.
He nods. “Proof that what? Proof I own this ring? It has my name on the inside of it, Megan.”
“Proof that you’re somehow coincidentally related to the guy my father killed in an entirely different province across the country twenty years ago? What are the chances?”
“Not really,” he admits, a frown creeping onto his face like he never thought I’d ask this.
“Well, I don’t believe you then. This is ridiculous.” I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. “What is this family business anyways? What do you guys do? Oh, and why do our families hate each other?”
“The family business is confidential. As for the reason we hate each other, it’s just how it is. I can’t explain it to you.”
I roll my eyes. So he came here to tell me what exactly? That he can’t tell me anything. “You act like you come here to give me all of this information. I think it’s just an excuse for you and me not to hang out anymore. I think you’re making all of this up, because I crossed a line the other night, and you just want to get as far from me as possible. Did you even mean what you said the other night? Do you even have feelings for me, or did you just say that to make me feel better? Because I honestly don’t even know why I kissed you. I don’t feel that way about you at all. I don’t know what happened.”
He tilts his head at me. “Megan.” Hurt fills his eyes, and I know he wasn’t lying. He has feelings for me, and I’ve just crushed his heart. Guilt becomes abundant in my heart. Oh, fuck, now I’ve done it.
“What, Crispen?!” this comes out far colder than I mean it to.
He shakes his head slowly as if in defeat. “You know how you were afraid of being followed home after you were kidnapped? Well, you were. Those men you got involved with, they have been following you since that day. The only reason that they, or one of their minions, haven’t killed you yet is that I’m always around to protect you. I don’t understand why they didn’t just get rid of you while they had you. They’re outside almost every night and sometimes even during the day.”
“What are you talking about? That’s impossible. I’m not stupid, you know. What about all those times you’re at work? Why couldn’t they come then, huh? How do you know that they were outside anyway? Do they call and tell you? Do you see through walls and see them watching us, because I’ve never seen them!”
“Because I haven’t been at work, Megan! I quit weeks ago! I pretend to go to work or get called into work, when I’m out tracking down those idiots with my sister or trying to knock their heads off! You called the hospital yourself! I’m not an employee there,” he shouts, obviously becoming frustrated too. I’ve never seen him lose his temper, not once.
“I still don’t believe you. That doesn’t make what you say any easier to believe you know.” I take a quick step backwards, and I’m about to slam the door in Crispen’s face when his hand shoots out and holds the door open.
“I was never your neighbor. Just like your kidnappers, I saw your father’s ring on your finger, and it made me curious. If you were wearing a ring like mine, that meant that you were like me, or so I thought. I quickly discovered that you were the opposite of me and upon hearing your story, I realized that you were tossed into a huge, centuries-long battle that you had no idea about,” Crispen rants, his face becoming red with...anger? Annoyance? Frustration?
His anger is almost scary. I don’t like that he’s upset.
When he sees the shock on my face, he stops, takes a step backwards, drops his gaze from mine, and turns to the left slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated that I can’t tell you everything. I don’t mean to scare you. That’s the last thing that I mean to do. I swear.” The colour begins leaving his face, but the damage has been done. I slam the door and hastily lock it.
I stick my back to the door and slide down it to the floor. I throw my face into my palms and let out the sobs that I’ve been holding in. I finally make a friend, and he turns out to be an absolute psycho, but then again, some of what he says must be true, because he has the ring. The ring which is nearly identical to my father’s, and Crispen has never seen my father’s before. Coincidence? I think not. I’m just so confused.
“Megan, you left the patio door unlocked. What did I tell you about leaving shit unlocked?!” Crispen’s voice bellows from the kitchen. I wipe my tears away with my sleeve. I feel like such a baby lately.
“Get out!” I shout loudly and bury my head into my knees.
“Okay, if you want me to leave, I will leave. I get that you’re upset, and you probably think I’m a complete jerk, but I really don’t mean to be an asshole, okay? I came here to try to make things better, not worse.” He pulls a chair from the kitchen table and places it across from me about ten feet away. He takes a seat. “Everything sounded way more rational in my head the last three days while I was reciting it over and over,” he says under his breath, like he doesn’t mean for me to hear.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I continue not making any sort of eye contact with him by looking down at my knees. We are quiet for far too long, then there is a knock at my front door.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Crispen asks sounding confused.
I shake my head and stand up before wiping away my tears.
Crispen is at my side in an instant. “I don’t hear anything,” he states blankly to himself, looking confused. He presses his ear to the door. He then looks through the peephole, before I can. “I don’t see anyone either,” he whispers in a rush. Then he looks like he’s thinking. I reach for the lock, and he slaps my hand out of the way. “If I don’t hear anything, that means we should definitely not open the door,” he instructs in a very serious tone, one that makes my blood run cold. Whatever it is in his tone, it makes me not want to open that door. What if he has been protecting me from my kidnappers and the knock on my door was from one of them? I shudder at the thought, even though I think it’s very unlikely.
“Shit, I let myself get distracted for one minute,” he grumbles to himself. Crispen’s lips are suddenly at my ear. “Don’t open this door, and stay away from it. I’m going out the back to see who it is,” he whispers intensely, so quietly that I barely hear. I swallow hard at the grim sound of his words and nod.
Then as he zips to the patio door so fast that I jump. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. Am I seeing things? I listen to what he told me and jump out of the way of the door. I then sprint to the patio door and lock it tightly just in case. I move away from the glass door and take a seat on the couch, my heart racing. Another knock sounds on the door, but it is cut off by a shout. I race to the kitchen and clutch the biggest, baddest knife that I have in my fist tightly.
A rumbling sound catches my attention, and I glance over to the kitchen table to see that Crispen set his phone there, and someone is calling him. I stare at the screen. The caller ID says that the hospital is calling. This caller ID pops up on his phone all the time, yet he doesn’t work at the hospital. Curious, I hit the answer button. I immediately feel guilty for invading his privacy.
I don’t say anything after hitting the answer button. I just hold the phone up to my ear and listen. After a moment, an urgent voice shouts into the phone. “Crispen?! I’m on my way, what’s going on? I just got your text message. Where are you exactly?” It’s a female voice on the other end. Jealousy overwhelms me. He has been slipping off to be with another girl while on ‘work’ calls. Okay, again, why am I jealous? He’s not mine! Maybe I should be a little upset because he changed this girl’s caller ID in his phone to hospital, but I really have no reason to be jealous or angry with him for spending time with someone else. I don’t have feelings for him. Why do I keep having to tell myself this? Do I have feelings for him? Suddenly I’m second guessing myself.
“This isn’t Crispen. It’s Megan,” I answer the girl calmly. If I was normal, I would’ve hung up and pretended like I hadn’t touched his phone and invaded his privacy.
“Where’s my brother? Is he alright?” she demands, in an almost panicked tone. “Do you know the address?!” Oh, this is the sister he mentioned. I feel stupid for thinking otherwise.
I hesitate. “Uh, he’s outside of my house.” I give her the address. Did he text her before he ran out the back door? I was distracted and didn’t notice. I check his messages quickly and see that somehow he did.
“Okay, thank you. Megan, stay right where you are. Don’t leave the house. Hide in a cupboard or closet if you can. If you hear anything, don’t come out. No matter what you hear. My brother or myself will come find you as soon as we can,” the woman instructs in a gentle but rushed voice. I’m not stupid. I can sense the urgency in a person’s tone, and I’ve sensed it in both Crispen and his apparent sister’s tone. I didn’t even know he had a sister until a few minutes ago. I really don’t know much about him, do I? I’m confused as to why his sister’s number is in his phone under the hospital as the caller ID. She hangs up the phone, before I have the chance to ask her any of my millions of questions.
I shove the phone into my pocket and dash out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I take a quick peak out of my bedroom window and see nothing but the usual, cars, my neighbors, and the odd cat or dog. No sign of anyone at all. I then rush over to my closet and throw garbage bags of old clothes to the side, making room for myself in the back. I huddle in, shut the door, and then pile the bags back up in front of me, so I’m not visible.
I pull out Crispen’s phone and make sure that it’s on silent, before I close my eyes and try to focus on something completely irrelevant to anything. I once heard that doing math takes every part of your brain and allows you to think of nothing else besides the math problem at hand, so I try this. I add small and large numbers in my head. I think it helps, maybe a little anyway.
I hear a gunshot, and I flinch violently. This time, I don’t feel like crying, I’m out of tears. Crying has gotten me absolutely nowhere thus far. Instead, I just continue with my silly math problems.
I expect to hear sirens eventually but none come. You’d think that after hearing a gunshot, someone would call the cops. Apparently not. Maybe my senior citizen neighbors were too deaf to hear it at all. That’s sure a reassuring thought.
When I hear someone rustling around downstairs yelling and cussing—Crispen, I am tempted to jump out of the closet, but I remember what his sister told me. She told me to stay put until one of them came to find me. A few moments later, I hear her voice downstairs as well. Her voice is a high-pitched squeal, she sounds like one of those super girly, always excited, but friendly women.
“No, I didn’t have the slightest clue they were coming. I didn’t sense or hear them. My mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings. So, yes, it’s my fault that they got so close,” Crispen says in a regretful voice followed by another cuss and a bang like he’s hit something. Their voices get closer, Crispen and his sister are likely climbing the stairs right now.
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. Everything worked out. It’s a damn good thing Mason let me in on all of this, or I could’ve been halfway across the world while you got your ass kicked today. Do you see why I worry about you? You really make me wonder sometimes you know,” the woman chimes brightly. “I can’t believe they got away again. Again, Crispen. How do they keep doing that?”
The sound of footsteps enter my room, and the closet slides open. I wonder if they’ll be able to find me under these bags.
“Where the heck is she? I can hear her,” the woman wonders. How the hell can she hear me? I don’t hear myself.
Crispen chuckles, and the sound of crunching garbage bags fill my ears. He’s found me. Light streams into my hiding place, and I stare up at Crispen and a beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Her appearance is very much like Crispen’s, but far more feminine.
“Wow, when I told you to hide, I was thinking you’d go stand in the pantry or something. Good job,” the woman giggles in a crystal-like voice. “I’m Aria, Crispen’s favorite sibling.”
I look to Crispen. He has more than one sibling? “How many siblings do you have?”
He looks weary. “A sister—Aria who travels a lot, and a brother—Mason who lives with me, though I haven’t seen much of him lately, since I’ve been around here.” Crispen extends his hand to me and helps me up.
“What just happened?” I ask the both of them referring obviously to the situation that just went down.
They exchange a quick look, and Aria’s eyes bulge, as if passing some sort of silent message to Crispen. “You know, Crispen, it’s not breaking any rules to tell her anything if she’s one of them. She was born into this and actually has a right to know.”
I wait eagerly for some answers.
Crispen’s jaw clenches. “What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her. What she does know, will hurt her, you know that.”
Aria laughs loudly in a mocking tone. “Yeah, because that’s how things have gone so far, right? That’s why you haven’t left her side in over five weeks? That’s why Mason called me to rush over here a few weeks ago, because you have everything under control, right? If that’s so, then I’ll just go back to Australia and resume my vacation that you guys interrupted. Obviously, what she doesn’t know is hurting her. I think it’d be safer for her to know everything. I mean, the guy showed up at her front door today, he’s getting less shy about his attacks obviously.”
Crispen bites his cheek. “I’m not going to say anything to her, Aria, so stop causing a scene.”
Aria rolls her eyes and turns to me. “He’s a jerk. I don’t know how you put up with him.”
I keep my expression flat and don’t answer. I don’t know what to say, because I don’t understand what they’re talking about.
The sound of glass breaking behind the two interrupts us and startles me. Someone dressed in all black flies right through the large window in my room and rolls gracefully onto my bedroom floor. I recognize the face immediately. It’s Blayk.
I gasp in surprise. Not only does the sound of breaking glass and the human catapulting through my second story window frighten and confuse me, but the way my intruder lands gracefully on his knee in a lunge position, as if he’s some sort of ninja also throws me for a loop. How in the hell does one manage to do that?
In an instant, I’m being yanked up and dragged out of the room by Aria. I don’t resist her pull, because I’m not about to stick around the same room as that crazy man. I can’t wrap my mind around what I’ve just seen, but I know that I have to get out of here and fast. Aria pulls me out of the house and throws me into Crispen’s car, before she jumps into the driver’s seat.
“Where’s Crispen?” I demand, glancing up at the broken window. I expect to see Blayk and Crispen pushing each other around, but all I see is a broken window and an empty room.
“He can handle himself. I need to get you out of here or Crispen will kill me,” she says in a rush, an apologetic look on her face.
“What is going on!?” I yell, anger and confusion overwhelming me. I feel my cheeks flush. Why won’t they tell me anything? My house is under attack, I am under attack, so I think I deserve to know what’s going on.
“Apparently he’ll kill me if I explain anything to you. Sorry, Megan,” she mutters, and the car lurches ahead. As we’re turning the corner, I watch in the side mirror as a body falls from my window and lands harshly onto the ground in a heap. I can tell by the clothing and hair that it’s Crispen. I shout loudly for Aria to turn around. She sees what I see, but she doesn’t stop.
“I’m sorry, Megan, this probably looks terrible. I promise you that Crispen is fine. He will be fine,” Aria pleads for me to calm down.
“He just fell from a second story window, straight onto his back! Even if he is okay, he needs to go to the hospital!” I shout, and reach for the lock on the door. I’ll jump out of this moving car if I have to.
“Megan, don’t you even think about it!” Aria screeches and hits the lock button, locking my door again. “He is fine! He knows what he’s doing, trust me!”
She hits the lock button repeatedly as she drives, so I can’t jump out.
