Following Me (8 page)

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 napping.

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 95
^th
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 95
^th
, 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.