Bats in the Belfry Page 3

  He was one of the patients, wearing the famous white V-neck t-shirt and light blue pajama like pants, they insisted all the men wear in here. It was the guy from last week no doubt. The one who had confessed his love like they were actual lovers. She figured she’d ignore him.

  He leaned back and stretched one arm over the back of the bench, while tilting his head up toward the sky and closing his eyes. Lane shifted and tried not to seem uncomfortable by his presents, but a few seconds later he started humming the opening chorus to Train's 'Drops of Jupiter.'

  Lane knew the song since it had been her favorite for the better part of her teenage years. “Are you following me?”

  The humming stopped when he turned to look at her with amused eyes. “No, I was taking a walk and here you were.”

  “Right, don’t you have something else to do, like ohh I don’t know talking to someone that doesn’t exist or playing with a body part you really shouldn’t be playing with in public.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Maybe I should, but I’m not that far gone, and besides this is my free time. Why are you here?”

  She sighed really wanting to end the conversation, but didn't. “I’m waiting for my dad to wake up.”

  “I suggest you go home. He’s not waking up any time soon with the amount of tranquilizers they pumped into him,” he said quite amused.

  “You saw?”

  He nodded. “Yep, poor guy didn’t even know what hit him.” She sighed picking up her bag and standing. If he wasn't going to wake soon, she had no point staying here, and she saw no point in chatting with another patient.

  “Wait, you don’t have to go you know.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder while fiddling with her bag. “You said he’s not waking up anytime soon, so what’s the point?”

  “There isn’t any, but come on stay anyway. I don’t bite," he said playfully, but somehow Lane knew that wasn't true.

  With one brow raised in curiosity, she turned fully facing him. “Like what, you’re going to keep me company? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not. I don’t have anything better to do and neither did you up until a second ago.” He was right. Her class didn’t start until three and it was only noon.

  With a sigh her shoulders slumped before she sat. “Okay, fine, I guess I could stay a while.”

  “Don’t get too excited about it,” he said sarcastically. Rolling her eyes she glanced at him, like really looked at the guy to whom she thought was crazy.

  In a way he wasn't bad looking, maybe he was even handsome. He was average height around five-eight, five-nine, lean with not much muscle. His dark eyes smiled at her from beneath long dark lashes and his eyes had a slight curve to them, which made her believe that he was probably mixed with Chinese. His black hair was trimmed low, but seemed to be growing out, and his skin was slightly pale, as if he hardly saw the sun. “Whatever, so why are you in here anyway?” She figured she’d get to the point, since it was what she really wanted to know anyway.

  “Right to the hard questions. No introductory like, hey what’s your name? How old are you?”

  “Why beat around the bush.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because it’s a logical question, considering where were having this conversation. What, did you chop up a dozen people, bury them in your backyard and when the cops found you with the shovel you said you had no idea what you were doing?”

  His head fell back in hearty laughter, that made Lane's lip slightly twitch. When he was done, he looked at her for a brief moment before talking again. “You have quite the imagination there.”

  “Well if the shoe fits.”

  “So, you think I killed someone? Why?” he asked fairly amused.

  She shrugged, hoping she was wrong, because sitting with a serial killer was not on her planned agenda today. “I don’t know, you don’t strike me as the right out insane, slit your wrists, stare at the wall for hours or talk to invisible people type. Maybe I’m wrong, but then again maybe I’m not.”

  He looked at her wide-eyed but grinning. “Maybe you're right, but the question remains. How would you feel knowing you were sitting next to someone who’d killed another?”

  She swallowed the nerves in her throat, and looked at him not sure what the right answer should be. With the urge to run clearly the right choice, she remained seated hoping that he was only kidding. He didn’t seem harmful, but then again Charles Manson didn’t seem harmful at first either. “I guess, I’d have to know your reasons.”

  “So, you’re okay if I killed someone out of self-defense, but the cops didn’t see it that way and I was forced to plead insanity,” he said with a nonchalant demeanor, forcing her to keep eye contact.

  “Did you?”

  He smirked. “No.”

  “So, why are you in here then?”

  “I don’t want to tell you just yet,” he said gazing at her roguishly.

  “You’re afraid to tell me, aren’t you?”

  “No, I just don’t want you to have a different perception of me.”

  “And what do you think my perception of you is now?”

  Unblinking, his eyes roamed her face. “I think it’s a good one. Actually, I hope it’s a good one.”

  Lane turned away looking at a patch of grass by her feet, because the way he was looking at her made her nervous. “Why’d you say you loved me the other day?” she asked, her eyes still fixated on the grass while she moved her foot against it. No guy had ever loved her before. Maybe it was because she'd never been close enough with any guy to give them a reason to love her, but she knew he didn’t. Why would he?

  “Because I do?”

  Her eyes flicked to his. “You can’t possibly be serious… You don’t even know me.”

  He shrugged. “Who said you have to know a person to love them.”

  “Ah, anyone who’s ever been in love. It’s logic.”

  “So, you don’t believe in love at first sight?” He challenged.

  “No.”

  “Hmm…" Turning his entire body to face hers, with legs casually crossed he continued. "okay prove your logic.”

  “What?”

  “Prove to me why love at first sight is bull shit,” he said folding his arms across his chest.

  She didn’t know why the hell this was so important to him, or why she was entertaining this conversation to begin with, but something inside her wanted to prove him wrong. “Well to me I think you fall in love with what you know. Personal information, little things that mean absolutely nothing to someone else, but to you it’s exceptional. It’s like finding the ugliest thing beautiful because that person is beautiful…to you that is. But to someone else their just…a person. Now if you just look at a person you can’t tell anything about them.” She was sprouting at the mouth going on and on about her theory, but he listened because he loved hearing her talk.

  The sound of her voice made his heart jump, and his mind float with endless possibilities, when the truth was there were no possibilities. He couldn’t have what he'd always wanted even if it was sitting next to him begging him to take it. “I mean you can’t just see a person and be like—”

  “Let me tell you what I know about you Lane Bennett.” He said cutting her off, with his eyes trained on her brown skin. Her curly red hair was braided, and fell over one shoulder, begging him to reach out and touch the excess strands that stuck out. She was as beautiful as he remembered. If only she had remembered him. “The little things that I see that make you exceptional. I see you come in here two days a week, sometimes your smile is so bright it could block out the sun, other times you’re so preoccupied with what’s going on in your head that you hardly notice anything else around you. You like shoes, but you’re not very good at walking in them.”

  “How do you know that?” she mumbled surprised that he noticed something like that.

  “Well you always come here wearing flats except last Friday when y
ou were wearing the suit. Your shoes were black and very pretty, and you sort of wobbled a bit when you walked down the hall.” She had no idea anyone noticed. She loved shoes, but dreaded walking in them because she always had this fear of falling. She always splurged on them, and kept them in her closet for a jolt of confidence to wear them.

  “The first time I saw you I was sitting in the corner reading a book as you sat talking to your dad. He said something then you said something and I could tell you were getting annoyed because you started chewing on your bottom lip and tapping your fingers on the table. You do that a lot. I think it’s actually pretty cute. It made me smile watching you. Made me think about what I could do to put a smile on your face or to hear you laugh at nothing in particular. You looked my way once, but you didn’t actually see me, but I always saw you,” he said pulling her into his web of his eyes as they bore into her soul. She stared at him with half-lidded eyes, biting so hard into her bottom lip that she could taste blood on her tongue. Gazing into those eyes, eyes that somehow saw right through skin, flesh, and bone and surprisingly found her heart was something she never thought someone could do.

  Grabbing her bag, she hopped off the bench looking toward the building. “I…ah…I…hav… have to go.” As quickly as she was up, she was across the grass headed back into the building. She probably looked like the crazy one now.

  ***

  Arriving at her Writing class, Lane sat in the fifth row waiting for the professor to arrive. She was a Journalism major, loved to read and write, and found joy in telling stories. From a young age she saw her potential and figured writing could either be a hobby or a passion. She started writing one page stories that turned out pretty good, and before she knew it, she was once again sitting in class learning about some of the great writers of the past.

  She was the first of a few to arrive early considering she ran off on— that was when she realized she didn't know his name. She was so caught up in their conversation, mostly his observations of her, that she hadn’t bothered to ask his name. She started tapping her nails against the desk thinking about what he’d said when her phone started vibrating from her bag by her feet. Bending to retrieve it, she glanced at the unknown number with curved brows before pressing connect. “Hello,” she answered timidly.

  “Good afternoon, is this a Miss Lane Bennett?” The pleasant female voice asked.

  She nodded as if the woman could see then rolled her eyes and responded. “A…yes this is Lane.”

  “Miss. Bennett this is Lisa from Luxury Corp. I would like to inform you that you got the personal assistant position to Mr. Taylor, and if you are still interested in the position we would like you to start on Monday.”

  She paused, scratching her head with a slight frown. “What? … I got the job?”

  “Yes, so we’ll be seeing you on Monday then?”

  “Yes, absolutely yes, I’ll be there. Thank you so much.”

  “No problem Miss Bennett. Now you’ll be coming to the seventeenth floor, where you’ll meet with Kate Huggins, the Human Resource assistant. She will get you settled, show you around, that sort of thing. Do you have any questions?”

  “No…No I got it.”

  “Good, we’ll see you on Monday then.” Lane held the phone against her lips with a smile. She had done it. The interview was six days ago and she had pushed it out of her head figuring someone else had gotten it, but she had done it. Grinning from ear to ear she started making plans in her head, preparing herself for what was in store when she suddenly paused, with the smile slipping from her face. “Shit. Did she say Mr. Taylor? That I’d be assisting Mr. Taylor, thee Mr. Taylor. The Mr. Taylor from the elevator Mr. Taylor, " she said aloud. “Holy shit.”

  “Holy shit what?” She jumped, looking to her right where Ray was sliding into the chair next to her. Tim pulled in next to Ray followed by Sam and Kate. She didn’t consider the foursome her friends, since they were always together and she was basically the fifth wheel, hardly ever included in anything. But every time she came to this class they found seats next to her, and talked to her like they’d been friends forever. Lane figured it had something to do with the fact that she was smarter than them, and they needed all the help they could get with their assignments.

  “Oh, ah I just got the assistant position I interviewed for last week,” she said trying not to sound too excited.

  “No shit, that’s great Lane. So, where we celebrating tonight?” Tim said as Ray started moving her hand through his hair.

  “I…don’t think I—”

  “Oh, I know the perfect place,” Ray said. “It’s this new club that opened down town. My brother’s the bouncer and he’ll totally let us in no problem.”

  “Great, every one down for the club tonight,” Kate said while Lane secretly shook her head in disapproval sinking into her seat. She wasn’t going. She hated clubs, and didn't very much like these people, so she wasn't going.

  Four

  She wasn’t going.

  Yeah fucking right Olivia thought, while standing in line outside The City with those chattering bitches waiting to get in. Lane got the job. Lane was excited. Lane needed to stop being a prude and finally have some fun. If it were up to Olivia fucking and fun would be an everyday thing, but luckily something triggered a switch and Olivia got the better part of the day.

  Now all she needed to do was get away from these people, because if she had to hear about how much Ray loved Tim one more time, she was going to punch the living shit out of the girl. Finally, the guy at the door who was supposed to be Ray’s brother, took her ID and ushered her and the others inside.

  The massive club opened two months before, and everyone had been talking about it. Since it was the nicest club Felicity had ever had, the excitement was expected even by Olivia. She walked in, and as the tiny corridor opened up to reveal the colorful lights, loud music, and grinding bodies she smiled officially dubbing this place her paradise.

  There were two floors. The ground floor held the dance floor, with a huge circular bar dead center. The five bartenders in the middle had their hands full with people crowding them, calling out their drink orders over the sound of the thumping music. The second floor was off limits for anyone unimportant, with the giant bouncer and velvet rope by the stairs indicating that. There were private booths separated by walls, and sheer drapes for privacy, and even a separate bar and wait staff.

  The place was packed, the drinks were flowing and the speakers pumped dance songs through the air. Olivia took her leather jacket off, and made her way to the bar, quickly ditching those annoying idiots Lane called friends. She got to the edge of the bar and flagged down one of the bartenders who quickly made his way to her assistance. When he found her, her eyes landed on his mohawk like a moth to a flame while his eyes quickly landed on her breasts. She was of course braless on account of the low-cut thin strap top she was wearing, and gladly smirked from his enjoyment. Olivia loved the attention, and enjoyed nothing more than guys looking at her assets which she happily displayed because they were perfect. Her breasts were a 36C, and stood promptly on her chest, she had a flat stomach and slim waist to match. Her ass needed to be glorified because it was every woman's dream ass, and she was tall, not gigantic, but not short either. She was happy Lane had done something right in their lives, and had taken cross country during high school.

  Leaning forward so he could get a better look, she moved his face up to her eyes. “What can I get for you, Beautiful?” he shouted over the music giving her a view of his teeth through a wolfish smile.

  “Just a water.”

  His brow lifted. “Nothing stronger?”

  “Nope, just the water.”

  He smiled brighter, then opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle sliding it into her hand. She grasped it, but he didn't let go immediately, but instead he leaned into her left ear and said, “can I come find you on the dance floor later?”

  He pulled away, her eyes scanning him from top to bottom. He wa
s a cute one. His mohawk, tattoos, and the way his black t-shirt clung to his chest was a grade A in her book. Quite frankly, she liked them bad, and could use a distraction since she had nothing else going on. She leaned against his ear. “Sure, that is if you can find me.”

  She felt him smirk against her cheek before whispering, “Oh, sweetheart I’ll find you. Save me a dance, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” They parted ways as she took her water turning toward the dance floor.

  She glanced at the water, taking a sip as she maneuvered through the bodies. Although she really wanted alcohol, she figured she’d stick to water since she wanted a clear head for what was about to happen when she left here tonight. Alcohol was an alternant. Too much of it and she would be quickly sailing back into the darkness.

  She couldn’t see much with the dark blue lighting, but made her way to the other side of the dance floor as 'Dance Again' by Jennifer Lopez came on. This was one of the few things that made her happy. This was where she felt alive, and free from everything inside her head. She loved to dance, it was one of the things that made her feel like only one and not two.

  Her hands went up as the beat intensified traveling from the top of her body down to her hips. It was amazing how the world disappeared when she danced in a sea full of people. She felt alone, and though some would call that a bad thing, she found it exhilarating.

  Dancing through five songs each with an upbeat tempo, she was beginning to get tired. Realizing her bottle was empty she decided to head to the bar when the music switched to Miguel’s 'How Many Drinks'. Turning in the direction of the bar she was stopped short when strong arms moved around her waist, holding her to the spot, and against a wall of muscle. Assuming it was the bartender so eager for his dance, she tilted her head over to his ear, and shouted loud enough so he could hear. “So, you’ve finally found me. Now what do you plan to do with me?”

  His hand came up and cupped her chin, tilting her ear to his lips while the scent of whiskey grazed her nose when he spoke. “Whatever you want me too.” Surprised that it definitely wasn’t the bartender’s voice, she quickly spun in his arms coming face to face with him.