Page 61 of Spyder
I walk down the sidewalk with my head in the clouds and a smile on my face. For the past couple of days, ever since I told Derek that I loved him, I’ve been walking on air. It feels like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders, while at the same time, as though my heart has been opened up in a way that I never knew it could be. I feel closer than ever to Derek and the love I feel for him is only deepening.
There are still some things I need to come to terms with, things I need to get used to or find a way to be all right with. Well, I’m sure I’m never actually going to be all right with it, but I can at least try to get myself to a place where I’m not thinking about or obsessing about it all the time and just let him do his thing. It has nothing to do with me nor does it define who Derek is.
And the one thing I need to keep most in mind is that the things I like about Blue Rock Bay, the old-timey feel, and that sense of innocence about the place, is in large part, because of what Derek and the Pharaohs do. They keep this place clean, safe, and free of the ravages that run roughshod through other towns.
After doing a little window shopping, I turn the corner and head for the parking lot then freeze. I see Jacob’s big, battered truck parked next to my car, and as I approach, he gets out, flashing me a big smile.
“Hey,” he greets me. “Fancy runnin’ into you here.”
My heart skips a beat inside of me and the adrenaline starts to flow as he puts himself between me and the door of my car.
“How are you doin’ this evenin’, Bellamy?”
I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control my nerves. Though there’s nothing overtly threatening or intimidating with his demeanor, there’s just something ominous in the air between us. There’s just something that seems off. That something just isn’t right. I’m trying to avoid letting him see that I’m rattled, but it’s not an easy thing to do.
“Were you here waiting for me?” he asks.
“What? No,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “Of course not. Don’t be crazy.”
“Have you been following me, Jacob?”
“That’s nuts. I ain’t been following you around.”
Maybe he’s telling the truth. It just seems strange to me that this is like the second or third time I’ve coincidentally run into Jacob out here in the street. I mean, Blue Rock is a small town, but it’s not that small. And while I guess it’s possible that running into Jacob multiple times is coincidental, something just feels off about that explanation. It doesn’t quite sit right with me.
“Okay, I believe you,” I lie. “I wish I had time to stay and chat, but I need to get going. I need to get these to my mom.”
“Right. Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t move.
“You’re blocking my car door,” I say with a nervous chuckle.
“Yeah, listen, I wanted to apologize for the last time we talked. I got the sense that I upset you,” he says.
“It’s fine. I’m not upset.”
“I didn’t mean to speak out of turn about your boyfriend.”
“I’m over it. Really. It’s not a big deal, Jacob,” I say.
He slips his hands into his pockets and shuffles his feet, lowering his gaze to the ground. There’s an inscrutable expression on his face that only adds to the pile of fear and worry mounting inside of me. As I study him closer, I see that his face is pretty bruised and cut up. The shadows from his ball cap had been obscuring them from me before. But the way he has his head turned, allowing the lights from above to illuminate his face, it’s impossible to miss it.
“What happened to your face, Jacob?”
His expression hardens and I see his hands clench into fists at his sides. He raises his head to look at me, and that’s when it hits me. That’s when I realize who he is. I mean, who he really is. And suddenly, everything starts to make sense to me and although I’m not normally a conspiracy-minded person, I can’t help but wonder if Jacob had set this all up from the start.
“Y-your name isn’t Jacob, is it?” I ask, my voice quavering slightly.
“It’s my middle name. I told you that,” he replies.
“But what’s your first name?”
“What does it matter? I told you I don’t like going by that name.”
“Who beat you up, Jacob?”
“Some asshole.”
“Why?”
