Page 100 of The Guy Next Door

It was so fucking quick, I couldn’t get a good look. Was that him?

I’m all instinct as I head toward the entrance, frustrated with every person I have to say “Excuse me” to.

Isaac works around here; he could have just been swinging by, like the day I found him at the library. But wouldn’t that be a hell of a coincidence for him to be here the day I chat with Wes about Mike? He sure as fuck never came here when I was following him.

Outside, I search around, first for Isaac, then, when I don’t see him, for his Toyota Corolla. No sign of either.

I notice a guy in a hoodie getting into his car. He pulls off his hood before he gets in, and it’s definitely not Isaac.

Was this the guy I saw?

No, it was Isaac. It had to be.

I rush to either side of the building, checking the lot, but still no sign. At the pace he was moving, he wouldn’t have been able to get away fast enough to evade me. Although, he could have seen me too and bolted. But he had to have parked somewhere.

Unless he was here to spy on us.

The image of his face is burned into my fucking brain. It reminds me of when I was in my manic state, seeing his face in places where I knew he couldn’t have been.

This felt different, though. Real.

It felt real then too…didn’t it?

Fuck. I’m shaking, and I know it’s because I fear the worst.

“Zane?” I hear, and I turn to see Leif jogging toward me.

“There you are. I wondered where you went.” As he approaches, he stops in place, studying my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing,” I say, still searching around.

Wouldn’t he be out here if I’d really seen him? Or is he hiding somewhere?

Or is that what I’d tell myself even if it was just in my head, to justify the delusion?

“You look so pale,” Leif says. “Let’s get in the car and get you warmed up.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

I try to act normal, but that’s fucking useless since my mind’s playing on loop that moment when I could’ve sworn I saw Isaac.

But what if I didn’t? What if I’m having another episode?

27

LEIF

That was sosurreal, sitting in a coffeehouse, talking to a guy about Zane’s missing brother. Like what happened the night we first met, it resembled something out of a movie, not the kind of thing I’d ever expected to deal with in real life.

Just as I feared, Wes didn’t add any clarity around what happened with Mike, and it’s not something Zane can magically recover from.

But that doesn’t explain his bizarre behavior in the coffeehouse parking lot.

He wasn’t himself. And he kept looking around, like he’d seen someone or something, but when I pressed, he wouldn’t explain. It’s what’s on my mind all the way back to his place, as we sit in silence, listening to Christmas songs.

I won’t push. Give him some time to digest everything. He’ll let me know when he’s ready to talk about whatever’s on his mind.

He finishes up some work at his desk while I get ready for bed. Then he moves through his nighttime routine before joining me in only his boxers. Wrapping an arm around me, he pulls me close.

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