Following Me Page 5

  Devon would have taken the shortcut to Brown Hall, but the weather was so nice that she wanted to delay the inevitable. She nearly reached the archway through Brookings when she felt eyes on her back.

  Strange. She hadn’t remembered seeing anyone else on the Quad.

  It was such a beautiful day that she thought others would be out there studying, tanning, goofing off, and generally, enjoying the sunshine. But it was the summer session, and few people remained on campus, so it wasn’t all that surprising.

  Trying to push away the nagging feeling that someone was watching her, Devon quickened her pace and walked through the archway. She didn’t like being in there anymore than she liked being out in the open on the Quad, but at least in the Quad, she could see whoever was following behind her. It wasn’t likely that whoever the person was would do anything in the middle of the day at the heart of campus.

  But the archway at Brookings was different. While it was still a very public place, connecting the Quad and Hoyt Drive, it bottlenecked through the corridor. She felt suddenly trapped even though it wasn’t a far distance. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and the blood coursed through her body. She could feel her pulse beating rapidly in each of her fingers, and she swallowed back the cotton balls lodged in her throat.

  Devon glanced back over her shoulder, her blonde hair spinning out around her face, as she hoped to catch a glimpse of the person behind her. But no one was there. She didn’t even hear footsteps or anything. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Whoever was following her was rather adept at not being seen. The only way she would see the person was when he wanted to be seen, and that unnerved her even more.

  Dashing through the archway, Devon crossed to the other side, unharmed. Her eyes shifted left and right, looking for anyone waiting to ambush her on the other side. No one was there. In fact, no one was anywhere.

  There were no cars on the usually busy Hoyt Drive or Brookings Drive, which led into campus. Cars sat idly by in parking spaces along the road, but she couldn’t see anyone in them. Even on the best day, incoming freshmen flocked the school to make their final decisions about enrollment. Despite her annoyance with them, Devon wanted to know where they were.

  She didn’t have more time to think about it. Someone was tailing her and almost instinctively, she knew he was getting closer. Without a backward glance, she barreled down the stairs leading to the street. Devon had walked up and down the soft sloping and seemingly endless staircase more times than she could count, but today, the descent felt excruciatingly long.

  Finally reaching the sidewalk on Hoyt, she immediately turned right toward Brown Hall. She had a strong desire to be inside a familiar environment. Plus, she knew the entire faculty, and someone had to be there. Professor Turner was there every day. She had spent countless hours in his office going over assignments and catching up. She never had to make appointments since he was always just there. If no one else were on campus, he would still be there in his loosened tie staring at his Mac. She could get to him. She could make it.

  It wasn’t a long walk. It was literally right around the corner. Why hadn’t she taken the shortcut through Busch Hall? All she would have had to do was taken a right before the Quad, walk straight through the Humanities department, and Brown would be standing right in front of her. Instead, Devon had wanted to enjoy the weather, but she wasn’t enjoying the weather right now.

  She jogged up the sidewalk, feeling eyes on her from every direction. She felt completely ambushed. They were coming for her. They were closing in. They would get her.

  No. She had to be strong and push herself harder. Someone would be inside Brown Hall. If not Professor Turner, then another professor or even a student would have to be there. Devon would make this work. She had to.

  Reaching the double doors, she wrenched one open as fast as she could and rushed inside. It smelled exactly as it always had, like too many cleaning supplies had been used to mask the dusty smell of the old building. She padded down the familiar hallways, navigating the corridors like an expert. Professor Turner’s office was on the fourth floor of the building. She knew it was a bad move to run all the way up the stairs. She would be trapping herself in the stairwell, but she didn’t have another choice.

  Jerking the door open, she took the stairs two at a time. Her breathing was ragged by the time she reached the top floor, but at least she didn’t feel eyes on her now. Her pursuer must not have known where she went.

  Cautiously, she strode down the corridor, searching for Professor Turner’s office. Halfway down the hall, she heard a door click. Her heart leapt out of her chest, she spun around to see if someone was behind her, but no one was there. Although she didn’t get that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, telling her someone was watching, she felt like she was in the wrong place, like she had made the wrong move. She felt as if she had accidentally placed her guarding Bishop in front of her opponent’s Queen.

  Having no other choice, she moved in front of Professor Turner’s office and knocked softly. “Professor,” she whispered, “are you in there?”

  No response.

  “Professor, it’s urgent! I know it’s not during school hours, but I must speak with you. There are things I need to tell you.”

  Still no response.

  “Professor! Someone is following me!” She knocked again, anxious to get out of the open hallway and into the safety of his office.

  Yet, no response came.

  Devon swallowed back her rising anxiety, and she did what she never would have normally done. She reached out her hand for the door handle, knowing that it wasn’t smart, knowing that it would lead to her downfall, but she had to get away. Whoever was chasing her was forcing her hand.

  She twisted the knob and slowly eased it open to a seemingly empty room.

  “Professor,” she murmured softly, glancing around.

  “Devon,” someone called out.

  But she didn’t know who it was or even where the voice came from.

  Just then, a hand clamped down on her wrist.

  “DEVON. DEVON,” SOMEONE called out to her, shaking her shoulder.

  Gasping in air, her eyes shot open, and she stared up at Hadley. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart was racing. No matter what she did, she just kept sucking in dry dead air.

  “Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” Hadley said, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. “Are you okay?”

  Devon tried to get herself under control, but she was having considerable trouble. Her skin was cold and sticky, and her shirt was soaked through. She pulled in a shuddering breath, and her chest expanded appreciatively as oxygen filled her lungs. She slowly released the air. The movements became easier with time. As she brushed her fingertips under her eyes, she felt her eyelashes were wet.

  God, can you cry in your sleep? she wondered.

  “Seriously, Devon, you look like a ghost. Do you need me to get you something?” Hadley asked with concern written across her pretty face.

  Devon ran a hand back through her matted blonde hair. Great, she would have to take another shower. “Yeah, I’m alright,” she whispered, her voice strained.

  “You sure?” Hadley asked, her eyes wide. “I’m going to get you some water. Be right back.”

  Hadley disappeared, and Devon was grateful. She was grateful for the silence and the light that streamed in through the window, signifying it was still daytime. Her bottom lip quivered as she scooted up against the headboard, letting the chills work their way out of her body.

  She had been having nightmares all week, the most vivid ones she had ever had in her entire life. Every morning, she had woken up more exhausted than when she had went to bed, like she had been running a marathon instead of sleeping for eight hours. She felt beyond dehydrated, and her head constantly ached.

  Devon had taken to napping during the day, so she could sleep less at night to avoid dreaming. Until today, the nightmares had never come for her while she was nappin
g.

  Hadley reappeared in the doorway with a glass of water. She carefully handed it to Devon, looking really freaked out. Devon felt bad about the whole situation. She took a few sips of the water, feeling the ice-cold liquid slide down her throat and coat her stomach.

  “Sooo…are you okay?” Hadley asked, repeating her question.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Devon said reflexively.

  “Bad dream?” Hadley asked, clearly not buying her statement.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Devon lied. She couldn’t tell Hadley what she had been seeing day in and day out; that would only raise questions. Devon didn’t know what all the dreams were about, but she had a clue. And if she had a clue, Hadley could fathom a guess as well.

  Hadley gave her a perplexed look. With a sigh, she nodded. “Alright. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’ve just never seen you like this. You’ve never had nightmares before, did you?”

  What could Devon say? Hadley had lived with her for two-and-a-half years, and Hadley knew her like no one else. Devon could only hold up pretenses for so long.

  “No,” Devon finally answered. “I didn’t have them before. They’re new.”

  “When did they start?” Hadley asked like an overindulgent parent.

  “I don’t know,” Devon said, looking down. She knew perfectly well when they had started, but she wasn’t about to spill.

  “Well, I hope they stop. It’s not healthy,” Hadley said, standing. She seemed resigned to let Devon off the hook.

  “I hope they stop, too,” Devon agreed with a tentative smile.

  “We’re leaving for the party soon. I was about to get dressed. See you in a bit.” Hadley walked out of the room, leaving Devon in peace.

  Devon sighed, sitting back against the headboard. She closed her eyes, submitting to the darkness. How could this keep happening? When she had left, she thought the dreams would go away. She had hoped that maybe she made the right decision, so they would stop entirely. Instead, they had done the opposite.

  Peeling her eyes open, she finished off the rest of the water Hadley had given her and walked into the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes, tossing them into a basket next to the toilet, and then she turned on the shower as hot as it would go. She ran a brush through her tangled hair until it was free of knots as the room thickened with steam. All she wanted to do was scald away the memories of someone’s eyes on her, the desperation of the chase, and the nauseating feel of the person’s grip on her arm.

  She stepped into the water, hissing as it touched her skin. The water felt like needles piercing through her skin wherever it touched her. It hurt. She couldn’t deny that it hurt, but the pain felt like home. And so, instead of turning down the heat, she succumbed to it.

  Her hair soaked through as she finally edged her body back into the blistering water. Closing her eyes, she let the water slowly rake over her face, rush down her front, and pool at her feet. At least in here, she only felt the pain from the water. A pain she could endure.

  Devon turned, facing the stream of water. She pressed her forehead against the cool ceramic shower wall, and she let the water flow down her back as rivulets from her wet hair ran over her chest. She sighed and allowed her mind to forget.

  Her hand trailed down her front to the heat between her legs. She tentatively brushed her fingers up against herself, testing to see how sensitive the heated water made her. Her body jerked lightly at the touch…even more sensitive than she would have thought. It was a welcome touch. Her body hadn’t had any release in a long time…too long.

  Devon bit her lip as she slid her finger across the wet surface, spreading and delving in. Her mind raced as her finger came out slick and ready. Her body tightened fractionally as she moved across the soft area, one digit slipping in and out teasingly.

  Her breathing slowed, and her core pulsed as she thought about someone gripping her in all the right ways. Her mind traveled to a distant place, far away from the life she was living.

  He grabbed both of her arms and pushed her onto the bed, spreading her legs wide for his enjoyment. She smiled up at him, waiting for him to take her. She wanted him. God, she wanted him. Her body heated as he slid his pants to the ground and pushed his way inside.

  Devon came in a sputter as the memories and her fingers pushed her over the edge. Her knees weakened, and she hunched over in the shower, panting.

  SOME HOURS LATER, Devon was standing at the base of the John Hancock Center, one of the tallest buildings in the world, in downtown Chicago. Looking straight up the glass structure made her stomach flip-flop. The wind was particularly vicious in the Windy City, and Devon was pretty sure the building was visibly swaying.

  “You want me to go up there?” Devon asked Hadley and Garrett incredulously.

  “It’ll be fun,” Hadley told her reassuringly.

  Not that Devon had ever had a particular fear of heights, but tempting fate didn’t seem like fun by any stretch of the imagination. Her face must have shown her disbelief because Hadley wound her arm around Devon’s, pulling her toward the entrance.

  “Come on, Dev,” Garrett said, taking the lead. “You’ll like the bar, and you can’t even tell it’s swaying when you’re up there.”

  Devon’s face paled.

  “Garrett!” Hadley said, swatting at him.

  He chuckled and ducked away from her.

  “I want you to have a good time, and you’ve never been here. I mean, when are you going to be in Chicago again?” Hadley asked her.

  Devon bit her lip and diverted her eyes, avoiding the question. She still needed to figure out how to have that conversation with Hadley.

  “Plus, I’ve been working so much this week, and we haven’t really spent much time together. Come hang out with me like old times,” Hadley pleaded, widening her eyes.

  “I want to hang out with you. I’d just prefer to do it somewhere…I can’t die,” Devon said, looking back up at the building.

  “You won’t die!” Hadley rolled her eyes. “Garrett and I will be there to take care of you in case you feel like you might die. Plus, Brennan will be there, too, I think…if we can pin him down to anything. I mean, you like Brennan, right?”

  Devon swallowed. “Yeah, he’s alright,” she said dismissively.

  She had spent the last week in Jenn’s Restaurant, eating burgers and occasionally taking shots of tequila. Brennan had been there every day, except Monday, just like he had said. He had usually left her in peace while she went through pictures on her phone or scribbled away in her notebook. Sometimes, he had come over to talk to her, but only when it had seemed she was deepest in thought over something else. She had the hardest time pinning down what it was about him that she liked so much.

  “Well, see, this will be perfect. The building has been standing since the ’60s. I don’t think we’ll have a problem tonight,” Hadley told her, shoving her inside.

  Garrett veered them toward the elevators, and they waited a couple minutes for it to reach their floor.

  How long do I have to be in that thing? Devon wondered.

  When the elevator doors finally opened, they rushed inside. Devon looked around skeptically while Hadley pressed the button for the 95th floor. The elevator shot up like a bullet, leaving Devon’s stomach floors below them. Her ears popped uncomfortably as she tried to ignore the headache that was a constant on her temples since she had awoken from her nightmare.

  She closed her eyes, feeling the pressure all around her as the elevator ascended, and then it slowed, coming to a gradual stop before pinging open on their floor. Devon tentatively walked out into the Signature Room at the 95th, the John Hancock Center bar and restaurant. She half expected the ground to shake beneath her, but it was completely solid, no swaying or anything. She felt better about that at least.

  The room was open and spacious. A long bar took up the far wall, and black tables and chairs were already crowded. The real view lay beyond the bar itself. Floor-to
-ceiling glass walls showed off a spectacular view of Chicago and Lake Michigan as far as the eye could see.

  Garrett gestured to the right, claiming it had the better view, and they nudged through a small crowd to gain seats near the window. Devon walked right up to the glass and stared out at the city lit up a thousand feet below her. She drank in the sight, wanting to remember what it felt like to be on top of the world.

  Devon pulled out her phone and snapped a few shots, wishing she had something better to take pictures with. Her camera phone just wasn’t doing the view justice, but then again, maybe nothing ever could.

  “Want me to take a picture of you?” Garrett offered, standing next to her.

  Devon shook her head. “No, thanks. The view is good enough.”

  “You have something against getting your picture taken?” He crossed his arms, turning his attention away from the window to her.

  “No, I just don’t need my face plastered in front of something so exquisite. How could I ever measure up?” She gave him a soft smile.

  Garrett had been unconditionally kind since she had arrived. He had allowed her to stay in the guest bedroom of his apartment for an entire week. He had taken care of her when she had been sick, and he had shown her around the city. They had gotten lunch a few times before he had to go to work. One night, she had fallen asleep while watching reruns of Whose Line Is It Anyway? After he had gotten home late from work, Garrett had woken her up and ushered her into bed. They had repeated their excursion to the park complete with Popsicles another time when Hadley had been working. Devon found that even though she hadn’t spoken to Garrett about why she had left, he had pried open her shell, and she was able to relax around him. She knew why Hadley liked him so much.

  “I think this blonde runs a little too deep,” Garrett said, deflecting the question.