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I stuffed the phone back into the safety of my hoodie pocket. It was also a way to get the stupid thing out of my sight because just looking at it made me feel disgusted with myself. In being nice to Damien I had subjected myself to an hour of misery. Maybe if I just dressed up in the nicest clothes that I could find that were warm as well he might not feel the need to redress me, and we'd be able to hang out at Dash's for an hour before going wherever.
The phone vibrated from its place inside my hoodie pocket. I didn't take it out to look at. I was done with text messages for the day. Heck, I was done with the stupid phone as a whole.
I knew what I was doing, I was being annoyed so I wouldn't have to be stressed out or nervous about being alone with Damien tomorrow night and going off to some unknown place with him. I was nervous enough just being around him when we were in a room full of other people, I didn't even want to think about how I would be when it was just the two of us. I was bound to embarrass myself thoroughly before the night came to an end, and then maybe he wouldn't want anything to do with me afterwards.
The possibilities of my awkwardness were endless and extreme.
"Shit," I muttered.
Maybe I should text him back and tell him something came up and I wouldn't be able to make it. I couldn't do it though, and probably only because he knew where I lived, and if I didn't actually go out and do something different one of the other guys would more than likely tell on me to him. There were too many of them for me to keep track of their comings and goings on the daily, but there was only one of me, and it was a whole lot easier for them to keep track of me than it was for me to keep track of them. I suspected Dash reported my comings and goings to Quinton via text message, but I had no actual proof. Perhaps it was simply me being paranoid, but I didn't think so. Quinton used to call and text me constantly asking me where I was or where I was going or who I was with, you know, the twenty questions from your handler. One day, out of the blue, he just stopped. Stopped texting me to harass me, stopped calling to check in with me. Of course, I wondered why that was. I didn't even bother asking Dash about it, I just knew it was him giving up the goods to Quint. I didn't even mind, because it meant I got Quinton off my back, and that worked just fine for me. I would never invade Dash space or his phone to find out, he could tell Quinton whatever he wanted to.
A twig snapped in the woods in the direction of the trail and I froze. My heartbeat immediately sped up and my breath caught in my throat. My entire body froze solid, and I strained to hear anything more in the dark.
Male voices came from the front of the house and I realized no one had gone inside the house and Tyson was talking to someone. If it were one of the guys wouldn't he have called out for me to come up front or come back and gotten me already? I thought so, but then maybe he was telling whoever it was about the missing cat we'd both seemed to have momentarily forgotten about.
Something shuffled at the end of the trail and hair on the back of my neck rose. There was someone or something over there, I could feel their eyes on me as I sat frozen.
If I screamed, I knew whoever was around front and Ty would come running for me. But whatever was at the edge of the trail was a whole lot closer to me than the people in front of the house.
I wracked my brain, trying to remember what sort of animals were native to the area and in my extreme panic I came up blank.
This was not good.
I needed a weapon. And fast.
I glanced down at my hands clenched tightly together in my lap and caught sight of the flashlight sticking halfway out of the front of my hoodie pocket, the one the phone hadn't gotten stuffed in. I had forgotten about the flashlight, which was absurd because it wasn't light, and it was pretty awkward with the way it stuck out of my hoodie. I remembered thinking in my head when Ty handed it to me that it was heavy-duty. Now, the flashlight would make a mighty fine weapon if I had to brandish it about as a weapon. It would work perfectly for clubbing something or someone across the head or really wherever I could reach them with it.
I wasn't picky, just really into my own survival.
What to do now that I had a weapon, though? Take it out of my pocket and get up and run? I certainly couldn't leave it in my pocket and run with it, not without it probably falling out, landing on one of my feet, and injuring me. It was too awkward to run with the thing in my pocket, and I would honestly feel a whole lot better with it in my hand.
The phone in my pocket vibrated again and it startled me so much that I jumped and let out a very unattractive squeak. I looked around the back of the yard with big eyes, forgetting that I shouldn't be looking towards the head of the trail because I didn't want whoever or whatever was there to know I knew there was something or someone there.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath in shaky voice.
My breath escalated as I fought off the urge to raise my hand and press it to my chest to stop it from trying to jump out of my chest and run far, far away from me. I didn't think it would have been a smart move on my part because it would have been a dead giveaway, exposing the fact I was scared out of my freaking brain.
I might have been scared, but that didn't mean I wanted other people to know about it, especially if they were creeper people waiting at the edge of the woods for their chance to pounce on me or do whatever nefarious things they were going to do to me. I was more than positive it would be nefarious, too, nothing good could come from this.
The phone vibrating with a text message had given me an idea that wouldn't give me away and might make it so I wouldn't have to run across the yard while screaming bloody murder and wielding my flashlight like a warrior wields its sword.
Very slowly, so as not to startle the being watching me, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I double tapped the screen, bringing it to life once again. After swiping to unlock it I didn't click on the unread messages from Damien. They wouldn't help me at the moment, so I ignored them. The part of me that was into instant gratification rebelled.
I clicked on Tyson's name after tapping on the messages icon and opened up our texts. I quickly typed up a text.
Ariel: Something on trail. Get back ASAP
I hit send and stared at the lit screen for all I was worth. I watched for that little check mark to appear, telling me he'd read the message. I wasn't even sure Ty had his phone with him.
The voices in front of the house rose. I was able to make out Tyson's voice and the voice of another male. I thought it might have been Dash, but wasn't sure. I only thought it was Dash because the voice never grew as loud as Ty's did, and there was a certain gravelly undertone to it that reminded me of Dash. I could have been wrong, though, and probably was.
What I didn't hear was a phone ring or anything of the like.
Fuck.
I clicked on Damien's name and opened up his texts. Texting Ty didn't seem entirely reliable at the moment. Damien lived with Julian in a small house in town, so they weren't close, but they could use their phones and get ahold of the others and sound the alarm.
Damien: I can just see you now. I bet you didn't mean to ask me to come over and pick out your outfit.
