Lost Boy

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Clark.

No way. Can it be?

“How did she die?” I ask, swallowing down what feels like thick tar.

“I can’t disclose any information. You know that.” There’s whisker stubble on his jawline today, cracked lines etched through his forehead from stress. He’s no closer to catching this monster.

“Detective, please,” I beg. “Just tell me if she had any markers. Is this Willis?”

Looking behind him, searching for prying ears, he takes my upper arm and moves me farther away from everyone, so we won’t be overheard, or our lips read.

“She was missing her little finger, but this was done recklessly and quick. Her body isn’t even cold. This was recent.”

Dizziness wobbles my body, the colors distorting all around me.

“It is him?”

“It’s looking probable, and he’s escalating rapidly, deviating from his usual MO.”

“So, he’s coming for me.” I wrap my arms around my stomach. “That could have been me.” I give an irritable tug to my sleeves, trying to cover my scars. Vulnerability makes me feel like a flightless bird with predators closing in. Hernandez taps my arm, hovering for a few seconds before dropping it when I glare at his hand.

“I’m going to catch him, Lizzy. I promise. Until then, I think we need to consider some form of protection.” His promises mean nothing if I’m not alive to see it happen. His protection did nothing to help my mother. “I’m going to station someone outside your apartment for your safety.”

Straightening my shoulders, I say, “Don’t do me any favors.” Before turning away from him, I make my way in the direction of work. I’m not going to school until they find him.

“I’m going to need the jeans, Lizzy. Please let an officer take you home,” he calls after me.

“I’ll bring them to you,” I shout back. Footfalls pound the pavement behind me, and Stephan calls out. “Stephan, stay back,” I tell him, holding out my hands.

“What’s going on, Liz?”

“I’m not safe to be around. Please just stay away from me.” Guilt, anger, and fear washes around inside me, tainting my soul.

“I won’t let you push me away.” He shakes his head, a look of genuine concern on his face.

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” I bellow, throwing my hands up in the air, ignoring curious stares from a passerby.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe, Liz. Let me keep you safe. Its women being murdered.”

Women who all know me in some way. He must not be far if he killed her while she was walking Bruno. “Lee, the cat feeder, was murdered because he came to help me,” I choke out, a cold hand squeezing my chest.

“I don’t give a fuck who’s out there. I’m not letting you walk around alone. I just fucking won’t. You can either accept that and let me be the friend you need, or I’ll follow you anyway.”

Tears fall, and a stone lodges in my throat. “I love you. Stephan loves you. This coldness you throw out will push people away. Let us love you.” Charlotte’s words dance in the forefront of my mind, urging me to take what’s offered and give some part of myself in return. Wrapping my arms around him, I sigh into his embrace, allowing myself the comfort, even if having his hands on me makes me cringe internally. I’m so fucking broken, my best friend’s touch makes me recoil, yet Clark’s made me crave more.

“I need to go home to change.” I sniffle, pulling away and swiping my eyes.

With a slight gesture of his hand behind him, he says, “I’ll take you.”FifteenWhen we finally make it to work, the place is dead. Jeff eyeballs me from across the room where he’s sitting in a booth with a young girl. I round the counter and deposit my coat and purse in the back room. Charlotte is standing at the counter, waiting for me with a scathing glare. “Hey, who is that with Jeff?” I nudge her with my hip.

She smacks her gums together and snorts. “Jailbait by the looks of her, but don’t even try to avoid the ass whooping you deserve,” she hisses, slapping my arm.

“Ouch,” I growl, rubbing where she hit in a circular motion to alleviate the sting.

“Why the hell did you run away?” she demands, fists bunched at her sides.

Closing my eyes, I exhale an exhausted breath. “I freaked out, okay? I’m sorry, I just—”

“Why are you even here?” she cuts me off, looking up at the clock with a raised eyebrow.

“The body…I think I know who it is,” I whisper to her, not wanting anyone to overhear…not that there is anyone to overhear.

“Are you joking?” She steps away from me, not deliberately conscious of it, like her body is using self-preservation.

“I don’t think you should stay at the apartment anymore,” I urge, dropping my gaze to her feet.