“Oh okay, no problem.” I tried to suppress my sigh of relief that this nightmare was almost over.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. My heart kicked up a notch with the skin to skin contact and I tugged my arm to escape.
He leaned in close, whispered, “Until next time,” and gently kissed my cheek before he walked away.
An overwhelming sense of dread filled me from head to toe.
The moment he was out of sight, I felt the tension in my body release and my head begin to clear. Never again was I going to let Becky set me up on a blind date.
With that thought, I made my way to her place to give her a piece of my mind. She may not like being alone, but I’d rather be alone any day than spend another moment with a guy like Ian.
I was still feeling uneasy when I pulled up to Becky’s place and had to take a minute in the car to gather my thoughts. I knew she would want a full report and I didn’t know how I was going to explain my strange morning with Ian.
Brett’s warning sounded in my head about keeping everything a secret and somehow this felt connected.
Braving myself for the onslaught of questions, I walked up the brick pathway to her front door and knocked.
“Hey,” Becky bounced with excitement when she opened the door. “So, how was the morning with Ian?”
I sighed. “Ugh, I would rather have had a root canal. Thankfully he got a phone call and had to run off.”
“I’m just glad you followed through and went out with him. And see, the world didn’t end,” she laughed and threw herself down on the couch.
“Sure, but never again, you hear me? No more blind dates, no more Ian. Never again.” I curled up on the loveseat across from her.
“We’ll see. It really couldn’t have been that bad.” She rolled her eyes.
“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know, it was kinda weird. There’s just something off about him.” I stared at the ceiling.
“You always do this, you know. You have to find something wrong with every guy you go out with.”
“No, I'm serious this time. He kept asking all these personal questions. It was like he was trying to find something out about me.” I exhaled in a heavy sigh and let my head fall back against the couch.
“You don’t think that maybe you’re overreacting a bit?”
“No, I mean he was nice enough, but he really gave me the creeps today.”
“What could he have possibly done to creep you out so much?”
“Like I said, he asked me a million questions about my family and how I ended up in Pismo,” I retorted. I knew Becky wouldn’t believe me right off the bat because she was right; I did find something wrong with every guy I went out with.
“He’s just trying to get to know you.” Becky waved her hand dismissively.
“That’s what he said too but it was all wrong. It’s like he already knew me and was trying to confirm it. But the worst part was the way he looked at me.”
Actually, the worst part was feeling like I had no control over my own words, but how was I going to explain that to her without sounding like a lunatic.
“The way he looked at you?” Her brow creased as she straightened up and leaned toward me.
“It was… intense,” I said, sitting up. “It’s like he was sizing me up, watching my every movement.”
“So he just stared at you?” She raised an eyebrow.
“He never took his eyes off me the whole morning. It was like those National Geographic shows, where the lion stalks his prey.”
“You really mean it, don’t you?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.
I nodded. “Something was definitely not right.”
“You’re biting your lip. What is it?”
“What he said before he left, ‘no parents, no siblings, no husband, you’re all alone.’ It sounded like a threat.”
“He said that to you?” She nearly shot out of her seat. Now she was concerned.
“And he asked me how well I knew the Maxwell family.” I couldn’t keep it in. I knew I couldn’t tell her the whole truth about the Maxwells, but I needed someone to talk to.
“The Maxwells? What do they have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know, he seemed to think I was close to them for some reason.”
“Are you?”
“No, you know that,” I snapped, surprised she’d even ask.
“I don’t know, ever since the wedding you’ve had a wall up. If something happened with them, with Robert, you know you can tell me.”
I frowned. I knew it was a bad idea to bring them up. “Nothing happened. They just…” I paused, unsure how to finish that sentence. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Becky anything more.
“Violet, talk to me,” my friend pleaded.
I let out a heavy sigh. “They helped me after I was attacked. That’s all.”
“And you think Ian knows something about that night, is that what you’re getting at?”
“I think so. Why else would he pry into my life and ask about my connection to the Maxwells? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t know, Violet. This all sounds crazy. I think you’re still shaken up after everything and I'll admit, maybe pushing you to go out with Ian was a bad idea.”
“We can agree on that. And maybe you’re right, maybe I’m just making connections where there aren’t any,” I said and shook my head. I hated that I had become so paranoid and grunted with frustration, though the fear remained.
“And maybe you were right about me meddling in your love life.” Becky’s comforting smile returned. “I’ll try not to push you too much anymore.”
"Uh oh, are we talking about Violet's romantic endeavors?” Aaron announced as he walked into the living room, sat down next to me and turned on the TV
“No, we’re not,” I said, stretching my legs across his lap.
“I just want to see you happy, you know that right?” Becky asked, ignoring my attempt to end the subject.
“I know.” I smiled back. “When I'm ready I'll find someone, I will." A small part of me thought of Robert, but I pushed his image out of my mind.
“At the rate you’re going, you’ll end up a crazy cat lady,” Aaron laughed, trying to ease the tension as he scrolled through the guide on the TV.
I tossed my head side to side in mock laughter and kicked him. “All I need is the bathrobe,” I said.
“And curlers,” Becky added, standing up, “Anything to drink?”
“I’ll take some water.”
Aaron selected a channel and the news blared to life, “Four people were found dead in San Francisco this morning with what appeared to be some sort of markings on their foreheads.” I looked at the TV and a drawing of the marking they were referring to replaced the newscasters face. An underlined triangle came into focus first, then a fancy ‘M’ with a dash through the middle line sat below the triangle “Anyone with information is asked to contact the San Francisco police.”
“I hate the news, it’s always so depressing,” Aaron said changing the channel. A familiar cartoon character bounced across the screen, “Much better. So tell me, Miss Evans, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He gave me a hopeful grin.
“Depends, what did you have in mind?” I returned his mischievous smile but the image of the triangle and ‘M’ made me feel uneasy. In the shadows of my mind I felt like I’d seen it before but couldn’t recall the memory. Nick, my ex had shown me weird markings and symbols that he used in his ‘group’ to purify themselves, but this looked nothing like what he’d shown me.
“Well, seeing how this is technically my vacation, I thought we could go to the beach, maybe do some surfing.”