CRASH (A Logan Brothers Novel) (21 page)

I could feel my blood beginning
to boil, my tiredness discarded from my body. An energy was growing
inside me, surging, an anger creeping into my head.

“
Who is he?” I growled.
“Where is he?”

A look of concern grew on her
face. “Um, we don't know. He hasn't turned up since. He might have
gone back to uni in California.”

“
And where's Elle? Is she back
at your dorm?”

She nodded. “She's been cooped
up in there since it happened. I tried to get her to come tonight,
but she won't leave the room. She's pretending she's just revising,
but I can tell she's pretty rattled right now.”

I stood quickly.

“
No Crash, I wouldn't go
there. Not tonight, it's late.”

My hands were shaking now with
thoughts of this guy. Thoughts of him scaring her, putting his hands
on her. I needed to know who he was, I needed to talk to her now.

I turned and stormed from the
bar, Alice's voice blurring into the background as she tried to tell
me to stop.

But there was nothing she could
say, nothing she could do to stop me.

Elle. I needed to protect her. I
needed to see her safe. Nothing anyone could say would change that.

Elle

I lay in my bed, the door to my
dorm securely fastened and locked. I'd taken to locking it now every
time I was alone in the room. Before I'd been happy to leave it open,
but not now, not any more.

The feeling of Brad's lips was
still lingering in my mind. I'd kissed him a thousand times before
but now things were completely different. His lips carried a menace,
a feeling of desperation and isolation.

I had begun to feel as though
his desire for me would never be quenched, that he'd continue to
haunt my steps forever. The thought ran my blood cold.

I climbed out of bed and over
towards my desk to pick up another book. Exams were coming up soon
and I had plenty of revision to get through. I guess that was one
benefit of my newly developed agoraphobia: now I'd have lots of time
to revise without any distractions getting in the way.

The problem was, I was
distracted. Not by my friends or dance class or anything like that.
No, I was distracted by thoughts of Brads eyes on my window. Thoughts
that he'd be waiting outside for me to go off to the shops or out to
class. Thoughts that he'd eventually make his way into the building
and towards my room, his desperate eyes staring through the door at
me, hidden away in my bed.

Lexi had come over several times
to see how I was doing. Her and Alice and Tess were all worried, all
there trying to convince me to go to the police.

But for what? What would I
say? That my ex boyfriend is around and he, erm, kissed me and ran
away. He hadn't really done anything. He hadn't attacked me, he
hadn't tried to rape me or even threaten me.

I knew the police would laugh me
away.

No. This was a problem that I
had to deal with. I'd broken his heart, I'd made this mess. It was up
to me to try to make things right so that we could both move on.

A part of me knew I was being
naive. It knew that I wasn't dealing with a normal person, that my
words could do nothing to satisfy him. But I had to try. I had to try
to put this to bed once and for all.

....

The door knocked loudly.

The sound sent a jolt running
through my body, causing me to drop my book to the floor.

I sat up in bed, my breath lost.
I could see the shadow of two feet at the bottom of the door, someone
waiting for me to open it up.

I stayed silent, not a sound in
the room or out in the corridor, hoping that they'd go away and leave
me alone. A sound of metal scratching pierced the quiet and I looked
to see the handle turning down slowly. My eyes were set on the lock.

I did lock it, didn't I?

I got my answer as the handle
turned back up, followed quickly by another knock. I willed for
whoever it was to leave, walk away, think I wasn't in.

Then a voice filtered through
the door, muffled by the wood but unmistakable. My heartbeat rose
quickly, my nerves settling. It was soft, concerned, a deep well of
worry within it.

“
Elle, are you in there?”

I slid from the bed and towards
the door, stepping lightly. I still wasn't sure I wanted to see
anyone right now so was keen to make sure my presence remained in
doubt.

His voice came again.

“
Elle, I'm just here to see if
you're OK. I want to know you're safe.”

I reached for the lock and
twisted gently. It clicked open and the handle quickly turned. The
door swung open and Crash stood before me, his eyes troubled.

He looked me up and down quickly
and gave me a hug. I must have looked a mess wearing my sweatpants
and without any make-up on. He'd never seen me like this.

His arms were strong around me,
his embrace making me feel safer, more secure. I couldn't help my
eyes from welling up, tears lightly dropping from them as I lifted my
own arms around his broad and muscled back.

He released me and brushed my
tears away with his fingers. His eyes seemed to be changing. Going
from concern and worry to anger, those raging eyes that I'd seen
before once again catching blaze.

“
Why are you here Crash?” I
asked him. The last time he'd come to see me he'd basically said that
he had feelings for me but couldn't act upon them.

“
I saw Alice at the bar,” he
said quickly. “She told me that your ex boyfriend attacked you in a
parking lot?” His eyes were fully burning now, his jaw clenching.

“
He didn't attack me, not
really. He just...” My words began trailing off.

“
What did he do?”

“
Nothing. He just creeped me
out is all, he wasn't violent.”

His eyes stayed fixed on me. He
knew there was more to it. The way I was behaving: hiding in my room,
scared to even answer the door - that wasn't normal. No, my face told
a story of its own.

“
Do you know where he is?”
he asked, his voice turning more cold and businesslike.

I shook my head. I had no idea
if he was still in town.
No, that was a lie. I know he's here. I
can feel him.

“
It's OK,” he said, “leave
it to me. I'll take care of it.”

The many words of warning and
rumors about Crash that I'd heard came flooding into my head.
I'll
take care of it
. I didn't even want to think about what that
meant.

“
Please don't Crash. This is
my problem. I don't want anyone else involved.”

“
No Elle, I am involved now.
Nothing can change that. Tell me his surname.”

I hesitated. His stare told me
that he wasn't leaving until he had the information that he wanted.

“
Crash I don't want him to be
hurt. He needs help, not to be beaten up or....worse.”

His eyes were still set. “I
only want to talk to him. He needs to be told Elle, he needs to know
what he's doing to you.”

I knew he was right. I figured
that coming here would be enough for me to move on and avoid the
issue forever. But no, he'd found me now. Maybe he did need to be
told.

“
I know his first name's Brad.
What's his surname.”

I hesitated.

“
Come on Elle, I'm not leaving
until I have it.”

I breathed deep again, my mind
running in several directions.

“
Scott,” I said eventually.
“His name's Brad Scott.”

He reached and took my hand. It
was still trembling lightly. “It's OK Elle, you don't have to be
scared of this guy any more. I'll have a friendly word. I'm sure
he'll go back to California when I'm done.”

I couldn't help but feel as
though he was only telling me what I wanted to hear. Inside his
words, deep within them, was a hidden menace.

“
Please Crash, please don't
hurt him. It's not his fault.”

He hugged me again.

“
Elle, I told before that I'd
be there for you if you needed me. I'm not lying to you. I swear I'll
just talk to him. Nothing more.”

He leaned in and kissed me
softly on the cheek, his lips lingering. I felt an urge to turn my
head so that our lips met but he pulled away before I could.

“
Don't worry Elle. Everything
will be OK.”

With those words he turned, a
consoling smile on his face, and walked briskly out of the room. 

Crash

“
Don't hurt him.”

Was she fucking kidding me! The
guy was fit for a straight jacket. Or a jail cell. Probably both.

Why was she protecting this
psycho stalker? He'd made her life a fucking misery, forcing her to
move away from her family and friends and start a new life somewhere
completely alien to her. And now he'd tracked her down and was still
tormenting her.

The guy deserved a beating, and
more.

I called Jones, yet another job
for him to do. This guy deserved a serious pay rise with all the work
he'd put in for me recently. Although, something told me that money
wasn't much of a motivator for him.

I had total faith that he'd
track this guy down in the blink of an eye. It didn't matter how many
Brad Scott's there were, he'd find him. He knew which university he
went to, he knew he was here, in town, right now. That would be
enough for a guy like Jones. More than enough.

He had contacts all over from
his days as a detective. He'd be able to use them to access police
databases and track credit card transactions. I could find out Brad's
mobile number and he'd be able to use that to find pinpoint exactly
where he was.

This one would be an absolute
walk in the park for Jones. I had no doubt about that.

....

It was only about 2 hours after
I'd called Jones that I found myself standing outside a cheap motel
on the outskirts of the city. The night was drawing on and the place
was enveloped in silence, not a light on inside the row of rooms
lined up to the side of the road.

Jones had traced a credit card
transaction in Brad's name to the place, and now I was here to have a
little chat.

I saw a large handwritten sign
saying 'reception' over to the right and walked towards it. Inside a
stout elderly woman sat heavily behind a plexiglass window, busily
scratching a worn pencil on a crossword. I tapped on the glass and
saw her head rise slowly to meet my face.

“
I'm looking for a friend of
mine.” I said.

Her face was stony and
disinterested.

“
He'll be of medium build,
about 21 years old, blond hair. Name's Brad.”

She continued to look at me with
a completely neutral stare. It was like she didn't understand what I
was saying.

“
Can't give away information
about our guests,” she said, dropping her head back down to her
crossword.

“
Look, I'm just looking for my
friend. Do you want me to start knocking on each door looking for
him, waking up your guests? That wouldn't be good for business would
it?”

She kept her head down but
reached out her left hand towards the telephone. “Do that and I'll
call the police.”

Stupid stubborn old bitch.
Tell me which fucking room he's in!

“
No, look don't do that.
Please, can you just do me this favor, just this once.”

Her face when her eyes lifted to
meet mine told me all I needed to know. Screw it.

I dipped my hand into my pocket
and pulled out a $100 bill, slapping it down on the counter in front
of me. “How about now?”

Her hand crept forward through
the small gap in the glass and snatched the note. She briefly held it
to the light before turning her head down into some sort of log book.

“
Room 4. He didn't call
himself Brad but he matches the description.”

A smile hit my lips.
Perfect
.

I turned and walked back out
into the night. A long trailer-like building stretched out to my
right, broken down into different rooms, each with their own number.

I walked along the front,
passing by rooms 1 to 3 before stopping at 4. There was no light
inside, not a sound coming from within. He was either sleeping or he
wasn't there. I was about to find out.

I reached for the handle and
turned it, expecting the door to be bolted shut.

But no, it slid open a fraction.
I felt an excitement building as I pushed slightly harder, opening
the door wider to reveal a single bed lined up against the wall in
the middle of the room.

The faint light of the moon
spilled inside, illuminating the silhouette of a figure lying on the
bed. My heartbeat was rising fast now, the situation getting to me. I
wasn't used to this sneaking around stuff, this was usually Jones'
forte. No, I was in your face and direct, not slinking in the
shadows.