Chapter 4 WHAT'S COMING

CHAPTER 4

JEREMY'S POV

WHAT'S COMING

Morning came too early today. Sunlight was peaking through my blinds like a game, accusing and cold. I've been lying down for a while, staring at my ceiling and reliving that same moment in my head repeatedly. The change on her face at the fundraiser, the outburst of shock that was instantly replaced with something I couldn't quite read.

Grace Bennett, even saying her name aloud in my head, was risky. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and threw my hair back uninterested. Worrying about someone, a girl. A girl that I've hardly had much to say to, isn't really my thing. I've had my fair share of women and infatuation, beauty and friendship isn't hard to find in this town, If you know where to look it's not rocket science. But then what I experienced when I first laid eyes on her, it wasn't attraction but recognition. But where?

She had a shadow that I am already familiar with. My phone was ringing beside me on the nightstand. It was father of course.

I answered on the second ring.

"Jeremy." His voice is clipped and formal.

"I hope you handled yourself properly last night?”

I leaned back and stared up at the air conditioner. "Depends on how you define it properly?”

He signs as he does, whenever he's set on delivering a lecture. "The fundraiser was not a social event. My name, our name was being showcased on that banner. You were there to socialize, not sulk in the corner like a criminal."

"I wasn't sulking." I growled out.

"You did, Jeremy. People did notice such things."

That old annoyance rose up in my chest. "Maybe they noticed the ten thousand dollars that we gave instead."

There was silence. "Don't get smart, son."

The phone went dead. There was silence, he never said goodbye to me.

I set the phone down slowly, gritting my teeth. Father's world is numbers, control, and authority. He doesn't care that I hated the unavoidable handshakes, the forced smiles and the annoying little chit-chats. All he wants is that I looked like the top son that he could brag about as his heir.

But something did cut through the clamour last night. There was a girl in a black dress at the end of the hall, and she had the prettiest eyes. She was not mingling with anyone, she kept to herself and her drink.

I learned her name, Grace Bennett, at the station. She is the returned one. I listened carefully, pretending not to care about their discussion. There were stories about her and the deaths, the kind of stories you'll hear among self righteous girls in town.

I could've avoided the entire conversation, but I didn't. I went on to look for her. And so I left the party before dessert, after her to the lake railing after our brief conversation. I raced around until I hit the town's edge, and spotted the gentle glow of her flower pine dotted cottage. Her house was there, and I memorized all the turns.

Now hours have passed and I'm still thinking about it. I showered, got dressed and headed to the station. Everyone greeted me with a warm smile, I nodded and immediately headed to my desk. My partner, Reed, began to brief me on new updates on a case, but I cut him short with a shrug.

I couldn't wait until lunchtime, so I grabbed my car keys and drove off. The library isn't that far away, just a few blocks away from the store. I arrived and the building is smaller than I remember as a child. Lights came across shelves of books through high windows. And there she was.

Grace moves slowly, hands tracing over the book covers, her hair loose at her back. She wasn't like the woman from last night. She is pretty, small, and almost too delicate to a fault because a false step will shatter her.

I shouldn't be there either. But I came anyway. The doorbell at the top of the door jingles but she didn't hear it, she's not looking up either.

The older woman, Mrs Harley standing at the back of the counter smiles and says, "Can I assist you, Jeremy?" She does recognize me.

I nodded my head with a grin. "Just returning this." I took out an old library card from my wallet, mine which had expired a while ago. I put it on the counter before I doodled on it, I did this before she could even get the correct pronunciation of my name.

She smiles, putting it in an envelope. I told her quietly. "You give that to Ms Bennett? Say she's being thought of."

She paused before smiling weakly. "But of course."

When I emerged into the sunshine, my palms were damp. It's wrong to have gone and done what I did, the writing of the note, but there is some part of me that does want her to know that I'm watching her. Not some queer way that men watch women, but the way you study a puzzle that, possibly might give you some sense out of yourself.

I walk over the street and stand by the window of my car, pretending to check my phone. I see from the window as she finds the envelope. She is shaking in her hands, looking around once, across the street. Our eyes nearly met for a moment, but I did not allow it to.

I couldn't determine the rush of adrenaline I felt was either for triumph or guilt. When she walked to her desk, I got into my truck and sat on the driver's seat for a while before I turned the ignition and drove off. She's not like every Raven's End girl, no forced charm or cringe cuteness. She has something wounded but not broken, something that I could recognize even if I couldn't place a finger on it.

The same part of me whispered to take to the heels. But the curious part came and had already occurred, running rapidly like wild fire.

Now I've managed to weigh my options, I've already decided, I'll think of a good reason to meet her again. Maybe a donation of books, a chance meeting

anything at all. I must hear her voice again.

The wind blew on my windshield, and I could have sworn I heard her voice calling out my name, just the way my mind had been replaying it all night.

Jeremy you need to run because of what she is stirring in you. Maybe I already know what's coming.