Midnight Sun, page 5
part #1 of Mortal Heat Series
“Please, baby, don’t let her take me away. I can stay with you, right? Please, baby, please let me stay!”
Todd wrapped his arms around her tightly and pressed one hand to the back of her head. “Shhhh, Love, shhh, it’s okay. You can stay, it’s alright.” His eyes rose to my horrified face, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess she wants to stay. You should go, your Uber is probably waiting,” he said, with the chilling calm of a serial killer butchering kittens.
“No, she needs to come home with me. Will you please just carry her out to the car for me, like last night?” My heart hammered against my chest but I attempted to remain calm.
“Sorry, Lucy, she wants to stay with me,” he said smugly. “I think it’s better if we just honor her wishes, don’t you?”
“Her wishes?” The hysteria crept into my voice despite my best efforts. “She’s so out of it she doesn’t know what she wants! What did you give her? What is she on??” My voice was two octaves higher, and I finally drew the attention of the rest of the band. They rose, shifting lifeless girls off their laps onto their abandoned seats and surrounding me.
“I think it’s time for you to leave, Lucy. Mick, will you show her out please?” Todd said pleasantly as he smiled at me over Emily’s disheveled head, which he continued to stroke like some kind of twisted pet.
I felt Mick’s hand wrap firmly around my arm and tug me backwards, off balance. When I recovered I glanced up at his face, sickened by the betrayal of his obvious support for Todd. His eyes were green and dark, closed off. His entire face appeared shut down and emotionless, and he pushed me toward the door with surprising strength, forcing me to walk or be dragged. The rest of the band remained standing in front of their seats, watching soberly.
“I’m calling the police!” I shouted back at Todd, who continued to smile serenely at me with my poor best friend curled on his lap. Then the door closed between us and all I saw was a dark hallway.
“Come on, your Uber is waiting,” Mick’s voice was still rich and warm, gentler than I expected given the exchange we just had. However, he continued to half push, half drag me down the hallway until we exited the building. My Uber was waiting a few yards away.
“What the hell is going on, Mick? What is wrong with Em? What did he give her?” I stared up at him accusingly. Now that I was in sight of another human being I knew wasn’t involved in this conspiracy, I found more confidence.
“She’s f-” Mick began, but I cut him off.
“Don’t give me that ‘she’s fine’ bullshit, I know she’s not fine,” I thrust my finger into his chest for emphasis. “She’s not acting like herself. She’s not even acting human. What the fuck??!” My tone became shrill at the end, and I didn’t even care. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Lucy, I think you should go home,” Mick’s tone was sharp. He looked over his shoulder, as if worried someone would follow us. “Emily is fine, I promise. I know she’s acting... differently, but she’s not in danger tonight. You should go home, get some rest, and wait for Emily to call you, okay?”
“No, I-”
“LUCY. You need to leave, NOW. I’ll make sure Emily is okay, but you’ve got to go.” He grabbed my arm again, pushing me towards the car.
I gave up struggling, resolving instead to call the police once I was safely driving off. I climbed in and reached to slam the door but Mick was in the way, crouching down to look directly at my face. “Lucy, please believe me—Emily is okay. I need you to trust me on this one,” his tone was soft, his eyes alive with blues and greens again. “I’ll explain later, but... just go home, okay?” His entire being was pleading with me, eerily similar to the tone I adopted a few minutes ago, begging Emily to leave with me.
“Mick,” I tried again, softer, “What is going on?”
He glanced back at the door again, then said, “Later,” before kissing me swiftly on the forehead and closing the door. I watched him walk back towards the building as the car pulled away.
BETRAYAL
THE POLICE WERE no help. When I said I wanted to report a kidnapping, their questions led me to admit that she stayed willingly. Even though I tried to explain that they drugged her, the officer didn’t believe me. He said she was probably just drunk and needed to sleep it off. Since she was an adult, there were no grounds to intervene on where she wanted to be. I couldn’t report her missing since I knew where she was and had just left ten minutes ago. I had witnessed no behavior the police considered threatening, and they thought it sounded like I had gotten myself thrown out of a party for being disorderly, even though I had the least amount to drink of anyone there.
I texted Emily, but when I heard her phone ding a minute later I realized I still had her purse. Great job, Lucy, now she couldn’t even reach out to you for help if she wanted to. I slammed my back against the seat in frustration and stewed for the rest of the ride home. I couldn’t imagine what the driver thought of my phone call, but I didn’t have the energy to worry about him, too.
By the time I arrived home my adrenaline rush was wearing off, and I was exhausted. I didn’t know what else to do. Aside from appearing loopy and strangely vacant, Em seemed perfectly fine. The hickeys were gross, but there’s no law against too much mouth-to-neck suction, and that certainly wouldn’t hurt her. I slumped on the couch and tried to figure out a way I could help. Eventually I laid down, resolving to watch a movie until I could come up with a plan. If nothing else I’d know when she came home.
If she came home.
***
Mid-afternoon sun streaming through the windows woke me. The rays had spun across the room until they landed squarely on my closed eyes, burning through my lids and forcing me to open them.
A glance at my phone told me it was three in the afternoon on Sunday. I checked Em’s room to make sure, but I knew she didn’t come home. I could sense the house was empty, and despite my exhaustion I would have woken up if she came in. I had no missed calls from unknown numbers and judging by her behavior yesterday it was just as likely she was still asleep.
Anxiety gnawed at my gut. That, and hunger. I knew something was strange and I couldn’t think up a way to do anything about it. Pancakes wouldn’t solve the mystery but they would help my empty stomach, so I padded into the kitchen and dug out the mix.
Once I devoured my stack of steaming flapjacks drenched in syrup, my stomach was happy but my heart still hurt. So, I pulled out my laptop and did what any good reporter would do: Research. I researched the band, their schedule, where they came from. I also tracked reports of missing or—gulp—murdered women in the last six months and tried to compare locations with the performance schedule of Mortal Heat. There was no overlapping pattern.
Next I tried researching drugs, searching for anything that had side effects matching Em’s behavior. The thing was, most of it she just seemed love-drunk, over the moon about a guy. If I was being honest, there were a few times in college where she had been a little obsessive about someone and less than rational about her behavior. Combined with the drinking, being over-tired and excited about a new relationship, there wasn’t much to conclude foul play. For all of his stardom Todd seemed like a man who genuinely cared about Emily. Again the dark hickeys were disturbing, but some guys genuinely thought that was a ‘love bite’ as opposed to an archaic way of marking territory. Em didn’t seem to mind it.
My research turned up zilch to help me figure this mystery out. The sun was setting when I made my way into the bathroom, determined a hot shower would help me think up my next steps. When I emerged from the steamy room, I heard a car door slam outside. A few moments later the front door opened and Em walked in.
She looked terrible. Setting aside the messy hair, day-old makeup and last night’s outfit, she looked sick. Her skin was a pallid shade I’d never seen on her, even when she had the flu last year. She looked slightly green somehow, and exhausted. Dark, puffy circles surrounded her eyes, and she gazed at me dully, as if she wasn’t seeing me.
“Em, are you okay?” I was so relieved to see her, but seeing her in this state was so scary it was almost worse than last night.
“Yeah, Lucy, I’m fine, no thanks to you,” she flopped on the couch. “Thanks for ditching me last night. I had to crash with Todd, who was really nice about the whole thing, but it was hella awkward.” She stared glassily at the TV, the venom of her words dispelled by the complete lack of energy with which she delivered them.
Despite that, I was incredulous. “Em, are you fucking kidding me right now? Ditching you??” My voice rose in pitch, my pulse hammering in my neck. Em glanced up at me vaguely. “Em, I tried to drag you out of there! You fought me, scratched my face,” I indicated the three red stripes on my cheek, “You pleaded with Todd to let you stay, and they threw me out when I refused to leave without you! I called the police, and they said they couldn’t do anything because you wanted to stay. I literally had no choice but to come home alone.” Her eyes remained glassy, no light behind them to show that she understood. I crouched in front of the couch and pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. Her skin was cool, not feverish. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t remember any of that?”
Em shrugged. “I don’t remember much. I remember us laughing and partying, hanging out with the band after the show. I don’t remember realizing you left until I woke up today, crashed at Todd’s hotel with the curtains drawn. I didn’t have my purse or my phone. He said you left, and he ordered me an Uber.” She yawned. “I guess I drank more than I realized. I’ve got a monster headache and I need a shower. They’re playing at The Sunset again tonight, so we’ve only got a few hours to get ready. Please tell me you’ve got my purse, I really can’t afford to buy another phone.”
“Em, did you not just hear what I said? You were like a different person last night. You’re not even acting like yourself right now. It’s Sunday, Em. We have to go to work tomorrow, we can’t go out partying all night again. You need sleep, and to rid your system of whatever the hell Todd’s been giving you.”
Her eyes snapped to me. “What is that supposed to mean?” Her tone was suddenly alert.
“Come on, Em, he’s obviously slipping you something. You were out of your mind last night. You don’t remember, but I do. You screamed at me, begged Todd to let you stay with him, and the entire band threw me out. You looked completely doped out on something. It was scary. We are not going back there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m fine,” She stood. “I think you’re just jealous that Todd Benson likes me, and you’re exaggerating. You were probably drunk, and they threw you out for being sloppy. You need to quit projecting on me and take ownership of yourself,” She sniffed. “Do you have my purse or not?”
That hurt. I pointed mutely to the table next to the couch where I had placed her purse and plugged in her phone next to mine, in case she tried to call herself. After unplugging her phone and scrolling through the updates swiftly, Em glanced at me, still crouched next to the couch. Her tone was mild, disinterested, as if she’d already forgotten our argument. “So, are you coming tonight or not? I’m sure if you apologized they would all be cool.”
“No, Em, I’m not,” I shook my head slowly and stood, facing her. “I don’t know what is going on, but something is not right with those guys. You need to take a good hard look at the way you’ve been acting. This whole situation is out of hand and you are not doing well. I’m worried about you. I’m your best friend and I’m telling you, something is wrong.” When I reached out to hug her she jerked back, anger coloring her face a mottled red.
“You know, Lucy, I’m tired of your shit,” she snapped. “I’ve tried to get you out, make you have fun, despite yourself. It’s exhausting always having to reassure you you’re pretty—taking care of you, doing your hair and makeup, telling you what to wear. Christ, how long do I have to carry you until you get yourself together?” She spat the words at me, venomous and bitter. “I’m done. No matter what I do, you’re always Debbie Downer. You’re so insecure, and it’s finally worn me down. You’re pathetic. I can’t be your security blanket any more. Do what you want, I don’t need this shit.” She turned and stomped off towards her room. “I’m going to The Sunset tonight, consider yourself UN-invited.” Her door slammed, and I stood there in shock.
What the fuck just happened?
THE FEELS
I WAS IN a state of shock. Em had always teased me about my lack of beauty skills. Good-naturedly, like a big sister.
The word sister put a lump in my throat. I’d had a sister once, Mary. She used to look out for her me, helped me with ‘girl’ things…
I shoved those memories back down in the depths of my mind where they belonged. It was too painful to pull them out and think over them now, on top of everything with Em.
I thought Em enjoyed dolling me up, like it gave her two opportunities per night to try out her skills instead of just one. She had never ripped me apart like that before.
I laid on my bed with the door closed while she got ready. The word ‘pathetic’ bounced around in my head and brought stinging tears to my eyes. They dripped down my cheeks as she clomped around the apartment, singing happily with the pop music blaring from her phone. I wallowed in my room, avoiding her, until I heard the front door slam.
When I was sure she was gone, I emerged from my room and went straight to the fridge, twisting the cap off of a beer bottle and taking a long pull. My mind churned with the events of the last few days. Maybe it was that simple. What if she was just tired of always having to drag me along, trying to coax me into having fun? What if I was a weight she’d been carrying around? A terrible, guilty feeling settled in my stomach when I reflected on all the times I’d whined about her makeovers, grumbled about clothes she picked out for me, complained about my hair. I wondered if I’d ever really expressed to her how grateful I was that she was my friend. I felt like a first-class bag of shit.
So, if that was the case, was I just jealous about Todd Benson? Was I overreacting about this whole thing? Aside from some (admittedly gross) hickeys, had he done anything bad to her? She was loopy and exhausted and seemed head-over-heels in love. Was I raining on her parade? Maybe she just looked like hell because she hadn’t been sleeping much, adapting to Todd’s rockstar schedule of being up late at night and sleeping during the day would mess anyone up.
I had been so convinced this morning that something truly awful was happening. Was I making it all up? My head spun with second-guessing my interpretation of everything. Now that I thought about it, Todd had been perfectly nice until I started getting Em upset, pulling at her arm and trying to get her to leave when she didn’t want to. They were even nice about asking me to leave, no one was physically aggressive or threatening, they just stood up. Oh God, did I misread that whole thing?
I didn’t know what to think. Last night I was so confused and worried about Emily that I had just trusted my instincts without really thinking anything through. I sat in our living room for a long time, nursing my beer and staring blankly at some mindless sitcom reruns playing on the TV. Eventually I got ready for bed, knowing I had to work in the morning. Some small part of me worried that Em would not be at work tomorrow, and what that would mean. I smothered that concern with the reassurance that Em was a grown woman who could make her own choices, and she said she was fine. Sleep was a struggle, I was subconsciously listening for Em to come back while knowing that she wouldn’t. Eventually the ocean waves on my sound machine lulled me to sleep, and I drifted off resolved to be a more supportive friend tomorrow.
A NASTY SURPRISE
EMILY DIDN’T SHOW up for work. I vacillated between concern for my best friend and a vindictive feeling that I was correct and something was seriously wrong. She didn’t respond to my text messages, and I realized I didn’t even know where Todd’s hotel was, if I wanted to go check on her. Instead, I tried to focus on my work and forced myself not to check my phone every thirty seconds to see if she responded to my messages.
My boss’s voice broke my concentration. “So, how’s Emily doing?” Fred leaned on my cubicle wall, smiling solicitously at me.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I muttered at my keyboard.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Suspicion replaced the concern that had been on his face just a moment before. “Aren’t you two roommates? I thought she was home sick today.”
“Oh, yeah,” I backtracked quickly. “I just meant she hasn’t texted me yet today, so I don’t know if anything has changed. She was sick as a dog this morning,” I threw in wildly, “Barfing everywhere. Really sick.”
“Strange, she didn’t mention that when she called,” he replied. “Just said she felt ill. Poor girl, If I’d known, I would have been nicer to her. To be honest, I kinda thought she was just hungover,” He shrugged. “Well, let me know when you hear from her, okay?”
“Will do,” I smiled blandly, internally face-palming my terrible lack of ability to tell small white lies.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off, whistling, like he’d just done his good deed for the day.
I whipped out my phone and sent Em another message:
Lucy: Em, I hope you’re ok. Just FYI I told Fred that you were puking this morning, I had no idea what you told him about how sick you were. Just in case he brings it up. Let me know when you get this.
Message delivered, I locked my phone in my drawer and resolved to focus on my work.
***
I got home just after dark and Em was there, lounging on the couch as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She hadn’t replied to my text messages, but she had at least showered and changed. She had piled her hair in the style of a messy pineapple and her face was clean without a trace of her signature makeup. Her thumb pressing the button on the remote was the only movement as she stared glassily at the TV.
