Page 9 of Heat Lightning

FOUR

MAX

Parting the sun-yellowed vertical blinds strung across my bedroom window, I peeked outside, intently studying every shadow cast by the street lamps dotting the small parking lot.

None of them moved. Good. Hopefully, my stalker wasn’t out there.

Headlights swept the lot as a car pulled in off the street and parked a few spaces down from my door. A honk rang out, spurring me along.

Apparently, Joey didn’t like to wait.

With a deep inhale, I grabbed my phone and keys and headed for the front door, making sure to lock it behind me so that freak couldn’t break in while I was gone.

Thank fuck maintenance had finally fixed it while I was at work today. Like, what if he’d realized my door didn’t lock and snuck in to murder me, or watch me sleep or something fucked up like that?

I shuddered. It was bad enough that his scent haunted me everywhere I went; I didn’t need to worry about him actually being in my apartment.

Honestly, I thought I was going crazy. When I threw on my work uniform this morning, I swore I smelled him on it, like the bright fizz of fond deglazed off the bottom of a pan. And when I came home an hour or so ago, it was still there, taunting me.

God, I can’t wait until I can afford to leave this shithole, I thought as I stepped outside.

Thick, humid air smacked me in the face, offering little relief from the phantom scent everywhere I went. Even though it was dark, it hadn’t cooled down yet from the heat of the day, and with no breeze in sight, the hot, sticky moisture settled into the cracked concrete, wet and heavy.

It also settled into all of my nooks and crannies in a way that made me feel like I needed to shower again, despite having just done so. I jogged the last few steps to the passenger side door of Joey’s car before he honked again.

“Hey,” I said, throwing myself down into the seat and hitting the door lock—just in case. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem,” he answered with a smile. “You look great.”

I blushed, suddenly self-conscious. With all my worrying over the stalker situation, I hadn’t had time to feel anxious about tonight, but now I was. Peering down at my blue striped seersucker shorts and casually mussed button-down, I pushed the sleeves further up my forearms. “Thanks. Where are we going?"

Throwing the car in reverse, he peeled out of the lot. “It’s a surprise.”

I gripped the safety handle above my head to keep from bouncing against the seat. “Oh. Okay.”

I was nowhere near in the mood for surprises, but that would be rude to say. I hadn’t told Joey about my stalker because I didn’t want him to think I was crazy or paranoid about stranger danger. When I’d asked him to follow me home last night, I’d lied and said a neighbor was bothering me; that was all.

Then, he’d asked if I wanted to hang out tonight after work, and I’d agreed because I really needed to do something other than sit inside all night, terrified of some creep lurking in the shadows.

He hadn’t specifically said it was a date, but to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be one, anyway. Without the initial rush of having someone’s attention, I realized I wasn’t all that interested in him beyond having a friend in a new place.

The drive was awkwardly quiet. Sitting on my hands, I stared out the window while the sleepy neighborhoods and businesses flew by. When he passed the last street lamp on the way out of town, I began to fidget.

“Not even a hint about where we’re going?” I asked, trying to be light and carefree. “Are you dropping me off in the middle of nowhere or something?”

He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No. There’s this club outside of town; you probably haven’t heard of it. We’re meeting some friends there.” He barely even glanced my way, not taking his eyes off the road.

I raised my eyebrows. I may be new to town, but how the fuck did he know where I had and hadn’t been? Also, a club sounded like the opposite of what I wanted right now. Too many people; too many shadows where a stalker could hide.

And who were his friends, anyway?

Unease skittered down my back. I realized how little I actually knew this guy. Everyone joked about the perils of dating a line cook, but I worked in a kitchen, too, and wasn’t anything like the stereotype.

Joey’s nice, I reminded myself. In a perfect world, I would’ve texted a friend my location so they could keep an eye on me until I got home, but I didn’t have any of those here yet.

My mood improved significantly when I spotted the small bursts of lightning lighting up the distant night sky, like tiny electric shocks dancing along the horizon. “Hey,” I said, pointing. “Cool! Heat lightning!”

Joey scoffed. “You know that’s not a real thing, right?”