This One Moment (22 page)

“Are you home?” Kayla asked me on the phone as I packed my suitcase for the week.

“I am for a few more minutes, then I'm heading over to my parents'.” They'd left for their Mexican cruise this morning and had asked me to house-sit.

“Have you received any more letters or phone calls?” she asked.

“Only the one letter from yesterday, and I haven't received any more calls since the last one.” After calling me three times, the Nolyssa fan had given up phoning me when I'd quit answering her calls. The cops hadn't been able to identify where the calls came from, but they did have the letter. It hadn't threatened my life, unlike some online comments I'd seen. It contained a rather lengthy explanation as to why I was lacking compared to Alyssa when it came to being Nolan's girlfriend.

But the fact the girl knew where I lived disturbed me the most. If she could figure it out, then maybe so could some of the more ardent Nolyssa fans. Eventually things would die down when Nolan and Alyssa officially broke up and both of them moved on with their lives, or once the rumors ended that they were headed for splitsville. But until then, my life was still potentially at risk.

“Have you told Nolan?” Kayla asked.

“No, I think he's still in the recording studio.”

“But are you going to tell him?” Her tone wasn't so much a question of whether I'd do it or not. It was a demand.

I removed a couple of pairs of jeans from my closet and folded them into my suitcase. “If you're asking if I'm gonna talk to him, the answer is yes. As a friend.” I missed him more than the last time he'd left, and that had been unbearable. This time it felt like all the air in the room had been sucked away, and I was no longer able to breathe.

“But you're not gonna talk to him about being his girlfriend and moving to L.A.?” The demand in her tone had been replaced by the desire to whack me on the back of my head for being such an idiot. But this was Kayla. I was used to it.

“No, I'll continue being his friend and see what happens between him and Alyssa.” I'd decided on this in case he was falling for her, as the media suggested. I couldn't compete with her and I wasn't going to try. That was more than my poor heart could handle.

Kayla sighed. “Okay. I'll support you in whatever you do. But I really hope it works out for you two. You're perfect together.”

If only Nolan's fans agreed with her. “I know. But it is what it is. I'm just happy for him no matter what he ends up doing.”

We continued talking as I wheeled the suitcase to my car.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Kayla said as I approached the trunk. I scanned the area for crazed Nolyssa fans. Other than an elderly couple I recognized from the floor below mine and a sleek blue car pulling into the parking lot, no one else was around. The late afternoon sun peeked from behind a random cloud.

At my parents' house, I parked my car in the driveway. My parents had taken a cab to the airport, and their BMW took up most of the space in the two-car garage. I glanced at the neighbors' houses but did my best not to look at the one that would cause me the most pain.

A memory slipped in from the last time I'd been in the house. It was a memory that I had forgotten until now. Dad had called me, asking if I could find some legal documents in Nolan's house. He didn't have time to come back to find them, and wanted me to take a look.

That's when I had accidentally found the letters I wasn't sure Nolan had known about. The letters from his mother to her lover.

Unease spread through me at the memory, but I couldn't figure out why.

Still avoiding looking at Nolan's old house, I removed my suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it to the front door. I unlocked the door and entered the house I hadn't visited for a few weeks now.

I couldn't tell if anyone was at home in the houses on either side of my parents'. Not that it mattered. The neighbors I'd grown up with had long since moved away. I hadn't yet met the ones who now lived there.

After putting away the groceries I'd brought with me, I went upstairs. My room had changed since I'd left home. Once decorated with posters of my favorite bands and actors, it had long since been converted into a guest room. But Mom had gotten slightly carried away after watching a home decorating show, and the room now resembled one from a fancy bed-and-breakfast. The alarm clock was off by over four hours. I walked to the nightstand and adjusted the time.

After unpacking my suitcase, I went down to make dinner. Like the alarm clock in my room, the microwave clock was also behind by over four hours. There must have been a power outage after my parents left. I reset the clock.

My phone pinged. It was a text from Mom to tell me they had arrived safely in Florida, the first leg of their trip.

Have fun!
I replied.
And make sure Dad doesn't forget the sunscreen this time. :)

Once dinner was ready, I carried the soup and grilled cheese sandwich into the living room. Purposely avoiding the entertainment news, I found one of my favorite shows. But somehow watching the FBI track down a serial killer didn't appeal to me when I was alone in a big house. And especially not when Nolyssa fans wanted to see me “removed from the planet” because I didn't “deserve to exist.”

I eventually settled on a sitcom. By the time the closing credits came on, the world outside the window was a dusky black. I stood up to close the curtains. The Christmas lights on the house to the right of my parents' home were on, as were the living room lights. Nolan's house was dark. No big surprise there.

As the next show ended, the doorbell rang. I didn't feel like answering it, but since it was obvious someone was home and it might be important, I walked to the front door and peeked through the peephole. The guy looked familiar and it took me a second to remember why. It was Lindsey's stepfather.

Confused what he was doing here, I cautiously opened the door. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

“I didn't know you live here,” he said.

Smiling, I opened the door a little wider. “I don't. I'm house-sitting for my parents. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I realized our flashlight batteries are dead, and my wife's worried we'll have another power outage like the neighborhood had last night. I was going to ask if you had any we could borrow, but since this isn't your house, you probably have no idea.”

I laughed. “You obviously don't know my parents very well. I swear they can't survive unless they're fully stocked with batteries.” I stepped back so he could enter, and I shut the door behind him. “What size do you need?”

“Double A's. Four of them.” A familiar spicy aftershave brushed past me.

Why the hell did you bring her here?

Even though I was safe in my parents' home, my pulse accelerated, my heart slamming against my ribs in its haste to get away.
Whoa. What the hell just happened?

“You okay?” Lindsey's stepdad asked, frowning in concern.

I nodded. “I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“It's nothing, really. The batteries are in the kitchen. I'll be right back.”

Pushing away the old memory, I entered the kitchen and went straight for the battery drawer. Yes, some families had a junk drawer. My parents had a battery drawer. I peered in at the organized array of different sizes.

Without warning, a thin wire dug into my neck from behind, cutting into my skin. Choking me. I grabbed it with both hands, struggling to keep it from ending my life. The familiar odor assaulted me again, and I briefly flashed back to that night once more. Of being hit on the back of my head. In Nolan's house.

Chris's words from just before his death echoed in my head, and a distant memory returned of a move I'd learned in the self-defense class I'd taken in college. I tapped my palm against the man's package. One tap, two taps, and then
wham
! I hit him hard, surprising him. His grip on the wire loosened.

While he was groaning and doubled over in pain, I jerked to the side and nailed his face with my fist. I didn't have time to wonder why I hadn't done this the night I was attacked; I just ran.

With my lungs and throat burning from the near choking, I hurled myself toward the front door. I snatched hold of the doorknob and twisted it. But Lindsey's stepfather must have locked the door before following me into the kitchen. It refused to open.
Shit
.

I scrambled to unlock the door, breath coming fast. But in my haste to escape, I'd forgotten it got stuck unless you push on the door while twisting the lock. Leaning my weight against the door, I reached for the doorknob.

Lindsey's stepfather grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me away from the door. Screaming, I wildly punched and struggled and squirmed. Anything to keep him from getting a firm hold on me. Anything to break free.

It worked. The hand holding me lost its grip, and I jerked my arm away.

Not expecting the sudden release, I stumbled sideways, the momentum pulling me toward the stairs and away from the door. With the man between me and the front door, I didn't have a choice. I scrambled up the stairs, pushing hard to escape before he caught up with me.

Just before I reached the top step, I tripped.

A hand grabbed my ankle.

I screamed.

I grabbed my overnight bag from the overhead compartment and waited for everyone in the aisle to start moving. I was ready to shove them out of the way if it took any longer—which wouldn't help my bad-boy image. Unfortunately, the flight had been delayed more than three hours due to bad weather.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, I rushed to where the cabs were waiting for new arrivals. The cold winter wind howled through me. Snow blanketed the ground; the roads and sidewalks hadn't been cleared yet.

I climbed in a cab and gave the driver Hailey's address. My leg bounced the entire ride there. I had no idea what I was going to say to her.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of her building, I still had no clue what I would say. I scanned the parking lot for her car, but it wasn't here.
Shit
.

“Can you hold on?” I asked the driver. “I just need to verify something first.” I dialed her number on the new phone I'd bought after destroying mine against Mason's wall. She didn't answer. I called Kayla on the chance she knew where I could find Hailey.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Kayla? This is Nolan. Do you know where Hailey is?”

“She's at her parents'. Why?”

“Her parents? I thought they were away on a cruise.”

“She's house-sitting.”

I was about to thank her and end the call when she added, “She's been having problems with some of your fans. One started phoning and warning her to keep away from you because you and Alyssa were meant to be together. And then the other day someone slipped a note under her apartment door, explaining why Hailey didn't deserve you.”

Fuck
. “Did she threaten Hailey?”

“No. She wasn't one of those psychopaths who've been making those threats online.”

I gave the cab driver Hailey's parents' address. I'd planned to visit my old home while I was back in Northbridge—my therapist thought it would be a good idea, as long as I didn't go there alone—but this change of plan meant I'd have to deal with the ghosts of my past sooner than I'd intended.

“Where are you?” Kayla asked.

“On my way to see her.”

“And why are you visiting her?” There was a definite smile in Kayla's voice.

“That's between Hailey and me,” I said, unable to keep the laughter out of
my
voice.

I heard a muffled scream. “Yes!”

After I ended the call, my leg resumed its bouncing as the cab drove through my old neighborhood. I tried to focus on happier times and not on what had happened five years ago. I didn't want to revisit those memories tonight.

Tonight I would tell Hailey how I felt about her, and if things went well, we'd be making love for the rest of the night. I could deal with my ghosts tomorrow.

As the cab drove down the street to my house, I avoided glancing at it and I pointed out which house I was going to. Hailey's car sat in her parents' driveway.

As the cab zoomed off, I checked over my shoulder at the home that held so many dark memories. Maybe it was better if I visited it alone after all, instead of with Hailey. I wasn't sure yet if I wanted her to know the full details of what had gone down that night.

I turned toward my house.

Fear. It's something we all face at one point or another. Some fears are small and insignificant but real all the same. Like the fear of spiders. We develop an irrational fear that they'll kill us if we allow them to come too close. Those fears can cause us to freeze up, make us unable to walk away.

Yet those fears are nothing compared to when you come face-to-face with death. Not the irrational fear of spiders and death, but of something very real. When the odds are against you. The only chance you have is hope, as weak as it might be. Hope gives you the extra surge of energy to fight for your life. Hope propels you forward and keeps you from giving up.

I yanked my leg away from his hand and half stumbled, half threw myself up the final step. The hallway at the top of the stairs was dark, but a soft glow of streetlight spilled from my room.

I sprinted to my bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Not that it made any difference.

Using his body weight, Lindsey's stepfather hurled himself against the door, pushing me back slightly. I could've sworn he snarled when he did it, like a giant rabid dog ready to tear me to pieces.

I tensed my leg muscles, hoping it would be enough to keep him out. Purely delusional on my part. The force of his weight against the door caused my sock-clad feet to slide across the carpet.

The pressure against the door slackened for a second, then he threw his body against it again and I flew backward, screaming.

“You're not escaping this time, bitch.”

The backs of my thighs hit the bed hard, and I tumbled backward onto it. The bedroom light clicked on. I barely managed to twist around before he grabbed my hair and arm. He then pulled me up by my hair to stand.

The sharp tip of a knife instantly dug into my lower back. Not enough to cut me, but enough to prove a point.

I let out a startled cry. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can't risk you remembering everything.”

“I don't even know what you're talking about.” Not that it mattered if I knew what he was talking about or not. He couldn't just walk away after attacking me in my parents' home. The odds of me telling the cops, even after I promised I wouldn't, were too high. I just didn't get why he was doing this. He wasn't the man who'd put me in a coma. That man was dead.

But then that night came back to me. He was the one who had attacked me in Nolan's house soon after I found the letters. But I hadn't just found the love letters to Nolan's mother. I had found a bunch of legal documents. I didn't understand most of them, but one thing was clear—Sarah and Nolan hadn't shared the same biological father.

“You were Sarah's father, weren't you?” I said, more to myself than to him. I didn't wait for him to reply. “She and Tanya have been dead for five years now. Why now? Why did you wait so long to look for the documents?” I suspected that was what this was all about.

The knife dug in a little deeper, piercing my skin. I cried out in pain. Warm blood trickled from the wound. This time I couldn't get away like I had in the kitchen. He was making sure of it. If I tried anything, he would stab me. And if the wound wasn't enough to kill me, it'd be enough to take me down so he could finish the job.

“I couldn't risk the truth getting out. I was married to my first wife when Tanya got pregnant. We had used condoms, so the risk of the baby being mine was small. After she found out she was pregnant, we ended things. But I loved her and that never changed.

“My first wife and I divorced several years later, and I moved away. A few months before that asshole murdered Tanya”—the pain in his voice was unmistakable—“I moved back to Northbridge with my second wife and her kids. I didn't expect to see Tanya again, but I bumped into her, and just like that, we resumed our old relationship. But as much as I loved Tanya, I couldn't leave my second wife. If I divorced her, I would have lost everything. Tanya knew that. That's why she stayed with
him
.” He practically spat the last word.

“Did…did her husband ever suspect?” But even as I asked the question, I already knew the truth.

“Before the day he confronted me, we had never met. I knew Tanya from high school. The asshole moved here after college. I don't know how he found out about us, but he did. He confronted me the night he killed Tanya and the girl.”

“Her name was Sarah,” I bit out. “Your daughter's name was Sarah.”

“Yes…Sarah.”

“Why didn't you stop him? Why did you let him kill them?” Tears clouded my vision. I didn't bother to blink them away. There was no point.

“I had no idea he was going to kill them.” His voice came out as a croaked whisper. “He was drunk and angry. I had no idea what he was capable of. Had I known, I would have done anything to save them.”

I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or if they were just pretty words he felt he needed to say. And it didn't matter either way. The end result would be the same.

“Are you really my parents' neighbor?” I asked, stalling the inevitable.

“No, I saw you leave your apartment with the suitcase. I already knew where your parents lived, and since you weren't driving toward the airport, I took a chance you came here. I'd heard last night on the radio that this neighborhood was one of those hit by the power outage.”

I was about to ask how he knew where my parents lived when Nolan spoke, his voice oddly calm. “Why don't you put the knife down and we can talk?”

Surprise, relief, and hope surged through me, and I silently prayed I wasn't imagining things. That Nolan really was here and wasn't a delusion brought on by intense fear.

The knife plunged a little deeper into my back and I gasped. The trickle of blood became heavier, streaming down my back, soaking into my jeans, taking with it what little hope I had left. Lindsey's stepfather tightened his hold on my hair and twisted us around to face Nolan.

Nolan's face was pale, and I could only imagine how this was for him. His mother and sister had been stabbed to death, and he hadn't been able to save them. And now the likelihood of him saving me was nonexistent. Instead, he'd be forced to watch me being killed. Or worse yet, Nolan could be stolen from me. Murdered like he was almost murdered the night his family died.

I couldn't let that happen.

“Don't come any closer,” Lindsey's stepfather barked, the hand holding the knife in my back trembling—and I started piecing things together. This guy wasn't used to hurting people. As a firefighter, he was used to saving them.

This revelation was of little comfort with the knife cutting into me. Tears leaked from my eyes at the burning pain.

“Okay,” Nolan said, hands up to show he was unarmed. “I'll stay right here if that makes you feel better.” His gaze darted to mine. For a second, pain flashed in his eyes at the sight of me.

“No,” Lindsey's stepfather grunted. “I want you to back away. Slowly.” He backed away too, pulling me with him, cornering himself further in the room. No longer was I just someone he wanted to kill. Now I was his human shield.

The shakiness in my legs increased, helped along by the blood loss and pain. If he hadn't been holding me with his arm tight against my chest, I would've collapsed. But his arm was also making it hard for me to breathe. Each gasp was a struggle for oxygen.

Afraid that this was the last time I'd see Nolan, I kept my eyes on him. And maybe that's why I noticed his body jerk. The movement was so slight, it was only noticeable if you were paying attention to him and nothing else.

“All right,” Nolan said. “Just don't hurt her, okay?” He stepped backward into the hallway, then moved to the side. I could still see him, but it was as if he was giving the man room to escape.

As soon as Nolan was away from the doorway, Lindsey's stepfather shoved me forward. But my strength was rapidly fading and I stumbled. The knife shifted in my back and I screamed from the intense pain.

“Hailey!”

I didn't know if it was my scream or the unexpected movement, but Lindsey's stepfather loosened his hold on me and I tumbled to the floor, the knife jerking out of me.

The world faded slightly. Black dots shifted in my vision.

Drawing on everything inside me—the fear, the determination, the love—I fought the desire to close my eyes. I didn't want to go to sleep. I wanted to be in Nolan's arms. I wanted to tell him I loved him.

There was a sudden movement in the doorway, and for a moment I thought it was Nolan.

“Police,” a deep male voice yelled, the sound of it reverberating in my head. “Put the knife down…I said, put the knife down!”

A muffled thud near me on the floor almost made me cry out in relief. Needing to get as far from Lindsey's stepfather as possible, I dragged myself forward, biting my lip against the pain.

The cop entered the room, his gun pointed at the man.

Another cop came in after him and crouched down beside me. “We need a medic up here.” He'd barely had a chance to finish the last word before Nolan was by my side.

As the cop coaxed me to lie back down, Nolan whipped off his T-shirt. Normally I would've appreciated the sight of a shirtless Nolan. What girl wouldn't? But right now he could have been completely naked and I wouldn't have cared. Much.

“Hey, Forget-Me-Not.” The smile in his voice that was usually there whenever he used my nickname was missing. He pressed the T-shirt against my side. “I've got you.”

Gasping, I jolted at the sharp pain.

I vaguely heard someone informing Lindsey's stepfather of his rights as Nolan brushed the hair from my face.

“I've got you, Forget-Me-Not, and I'm never letting go of you again.”

I focused on Nolan's voice and only on his voice. If I could help it, I'd never let go of him again either.

I replayed his words in my head as the paramedics arrived, as they examined me, and as they drove me away in the ambulance. And true to his word, Nolan stayed with me.