My Side (A Thin Ice Novel) Read online

  My / Side

  Tara Brown

  A Novel by Tara Brown

  Copyright 2013 Tara Brown

  http://TaraBrown22.blogspot.com

  Amazon Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No alteration of content is permitted. This book is a work of fiction, any similarities are coincidental. All characters in this fictional story are based entirely on the crazed mind of the author and are not based on any human. Any similarities are by chance and not intentional.

  This book is dedicated to my readers—thank you so much. The interest and support has been amazing. I also must thank my husband and children. You supported me, even when I was in my writer’s frenzy.

  Cover Art by Once Upon a Time Covers

  Edited by Andrea Burns

  As always, thank you to my readers and friends. Thank you to my street team—you are the best bunch of girls!

  To the ladies in the chat that changes daily, I love you! To Totallybooked, you are the best!!

  Other Books by Tara Brown

  The Devil’s Roses

  Cursed

  Bane

  Witch

  Hyde

  Death

  The Born Trilogy

  Born

  Born to Fight

  Reborn

  The Light Series

  The Light of the World

  The Four Horsemen

  Imaginations

  Imaginations

  Coming soon – Duplicities

  The Blood Trail Chronicles

  Vengeance

  Coming soon - Vanquished

  Blackwater Witches

  Blackwater

  Coming soon – Midnight Coven

  The Single Lady Spy Series

  The End of Me

  The End of Games

  Coming soon – The End of Tomorrow

  White Girl Series

  White Girl Problems

  Coming soon – A White Girl Wedding

  Coming soon – A White Girl in Love

  My Side

  The Long Way Home

  The Lonely

  LOST BOY

  First Kiss

  Sunder

  Under Sophie Starr

  Cinder Ella

  Coming soon – Lost and Bound

  Co-Authored with Erin Leigh

  Coming soon - Second Chances

  Chapter One

  Handcuffs and bear spray

  Knots didn’t twist in my stomach as the plane landed. I wasn’t as excited as I had thought I would be. There was a level of freedom mixed in with my emotions that was taking over everything else and giving me a feeling of blissful peace. It was an odd feeling for such a monumental step.

  I was finally making a step toward adulthood and independence. It was a great moment.

  Of course it was ruined by the psycho dude behind me pressing himself against me in the lineup to deplane. I moved forward into the lady in front of me, trying to escape the mouth breather. I was actually pressing myself into her to escape him.

  Nutbag.

  The plane, that had been far too cool in the air, was now a sweaty pit of anxious people ready to leave the confines of the narrow walkway. Sweaty normal people and the mouth breather. Of course I would be stuck with him.

  I lugged my carry-on to the baggage pick-up when we finally started walking. The people surrounding me looked either tired or excited. Only a few seemed like they were unsure of what to feel, like me. Maybe I just had too many emotions to be able to say which was more prevalent.

  I dragged my white-blonde hair back into a ponytail. In my peripheral, I noticed that the mouth breather was still watching me, but now it was from across the baggage-claim area. The dead look in his eyes was familiar. It made me reach my hand down and rub against the mace in my shorts pocket. I brought it with me everywhere.

  I would mace mouth breather’s ass in a heartbeat. I had done it before, I could do it again.

  Danny, my brother, had bought me a special blend of bear spray that was supposed to be lethal. I watched the mouth breather with hatred pulsating from my dark stare. I wanted him to think twice about watching me. I stared him down until he slunk back into the shadows where he belonged. I wasn’t becoming a skin suit. I saw Silence of the Lambs. I knew about putting the lotion on the back.

  Bags had started to go round the conveyor belt, when I finally tore my eyes from his hiding place. I reached and heaved my huge bag off, once I recognized the pink bow my mom had tied on it.

  My shoulder burned within seconds of dragging my bags to the exits behind the herd of people leaving.

  “I can get that for you. Give you a ride to wherever you’re going?”

  I sighed and prepared myself to grab the mace. As I turned I was surprised to see a young guy with a red beard.

  “Thanks, but I have a ride.” He wasn’t what I had expected at all.

  He nodded at the middle-aged mouth breather with the sweat stains and the greasy, fat face hiding behind a pillar. “Stay away from that guy over there. He was staring at you and muttering some creepy shit when we were on the plane.”

  I looked at the disturbing fat guy and weighed my options. If he was on the bus with me, he could follow me and find my house. If I caught a cab, he could follow it with another cab. My guts said that the redhead was the better option. I let him take my heavier bag to drag as I nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  I could take him, maybe. He was thinner and more coffeehouse mellow than the mouth-breathing, skin-suit-wearing stalker from the corner. Either way, there was panic and instability flying through my brain. I had to take deep breaths. My heart fluttered unnaturally as my mind whispered traitorous lies, like I had made a mistake, or I wasn’t as brave as I was pretending to be. I knew it wasn’t true. I was brave. I had proven that already once. Maybe more than once.

  I followed the redhead to the short-term parking lot. He turned back. “Name’s Mick.”

  I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mick. I’m Erin.” I glanced at my watch. I wanted to be at the apartment by four in the afternoon. It was 3:54; that gave me six minutes. I scowled as he looked at me. “Student?”

  I nodded, starting to worry. What if he wasn’t the nice, red-bearded young man he seemed to be?

  He beamed. “Me too. I’m in the marine bio master’s. You?” Never mind, he was a student. I felt a bit better until I thought about the fact that he had a beard. Divers rarely had beards—right? “Law.” Maybe he didn’t dive, just liked marine bio.

  “At Northeastern?”

  I nodded and he nodded back. “Cool, me too.” He walked to a black truck. “This is me.”

  I slung my bags in the back. “I really appreciate this, Mick.”

  He shook his head. “I got a sister, dude. If she ever got ogled by some flabby shifty fuck like that, I’d choke his ass.”

  I chuckled and climbed into the truck.

  “You know Boston?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I did my undergrad here. I’m from Colorado originally.” He started the truck and laughed. “I can tell by the paranoid wild eyes on you that this is your first trip, huh?”

  I did up my seat belt and shook my head. “I came with my family in the summer for orientation.” I didn’t want him to think I was completely at his mercy. I had come for orientation and for my father’s marathon years before.
Of course, both times all I had done was read and wander the city looking at old buildings. I hadn’t actually paid attention to anything.

  He backed out and drove off, a bit too fast for my liking.

  I studied him for a second. “Your allowed beards in marine bio, what with the diving?”

  He shook his head and stroked the long, scraggly bush. “Nope. Gotta shave in a couple weeks when school starts.” He scratched and ran his hands over it. “Had a bitch of a time in Bali this summer ‘cause of it. My passport picture has no beard.”

  I started to relax. He seemed like a stoner. “What’s your sister’s name?”

  He gave me a sideways glance. “Lisa. She’s a total bitch. She’s sixteen and completely running the whole house. I went home for a week, and I was ready to murder her.” He chuckled, “Sorry. I’m not . . . like a serial killer. Ha, wrong thing to say to a random chick.”

  I giggled nervously and looked at my watch. I was only going to be a couple minutes later than I expected. My Google map on my iPhone showed us nearly there.

  “What’s the address?”

  I started to panic. “Oh . . . it’s in my phone.” I zoomed in on the apartment and picked a close-by restaurant. “You know where Cappy’s Pizzas and Subs is—by Hemenway?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, for sure.”

  “Right near there.”

  It wasn’t exactly near there, but it was better than ending up a skin suit.

  He chatted and I looked out at the river basin. It was amazing. So much more amazing than Grand Forks, North Dakota.

  The ride was over in exactly fourteen minutes. It was faster than the map app had predicted, during regular afternoon traffic.

  He pulled up in front of Cappy’s. The red brick buildings everywhere were awesome. The street was old and cool but with modern touches, somehow blending in. I felt tiny, and yet, somehow powerful among it. I would be an official law student in a couple weeks. That was powerful.

  He dragged my bags out and passed them to me. “If you don’t recognize me at school, it’s the missing beard,” he chuckled and slapped me on the arm. “See ya, Erin.”

  I grinned. “Thanks again, Mick.”

  He shook his head. “Stay away from creepy dudes.” He waved and climbed into the truck and merged.

  It was late afternoon, but the traffic wasn’t too bad. I pulled the handle out on the bags and started the short trek to the apartment on Hemenway. The building was white brick and clean. I sighed, seeing it. It looked like the picture on the Internet. If the inside was what I had seen in the pictures, I would be in heaven. I fished the key from the bag and hauled everything into the brown, old-fashioned, wooden doorway. The door had to be older than anything I had ever really touched.

  I fingered the carved wood and tried to settle the leaping excitement inside of me. At least I as finally excited. The new house was helping.

  I was sweating and ready to just leave the bags at the bottom of the stairs, when I saw the old staircase.

  No elevator.

  I grimaced and started the huge walk up the stairs. It was worth the climb. It was my first house, my first stand as an adult. Everything was fitting into the plan too perfectly. Minus the elevator. That made me nervous. Things never went perfectly. That, and the fact I was alone for the first time. No roommates, no brother, no parents, and no friends. Except maybe Mick. I liked him. He seemed really laid back and easygoing, and he never tried to murder me. Always a great start. I almost wished for a second that I had a roommate. I had rented the two bedroom with the possibility of doing it. I could always find a girl who I wanted to live with if I got lonely, maybe another law student. I didn’t have to rush the adult thing if I didn’t want to.

  When I got to the fifth floor—the top floor, I took a minute to catch my breath. The bags were too heavy. I gasped for air and massaged the spasms in my shoulders and back.

  I crossed my fingers as I wheeled everything to Apartment 521. My hands trembled when I put the key in the hole. Everything was too perfect so far. I prepared for the worst.

  I turned the lock, opened the door, and just stared. I expected it to be a disaster; Murphy’s Law said it should have been, but it too, was perfect. White, crisp walls with a light-beige sofa and a white love seat. There were armchairs and beautiful sofa tables. The clean lines and simple colors carried into the kitchen, where white cupboards with glass inlays and a pale, marble counter awaited me. Everything was modern and clean. The only thing I hadn’t noticed was that the dishwasher was stainless steel, while the rest of the appliances were white. It was an odd thing to see—it sticking out against all the white. I couldn’t have missed it in the photos online. It had to be new since I rented it. New was good.

  The floors were dark hardwood and brand new. Everything was glass and white and clean and crisp, except the dishwasher. It was exactly the apartment I wanted it to be. It was almost completely the picture from the Internet.

  When did that ever happen to people?

  I took it as a good omen. Like I was on the right track. I was finally getting my dream.

  I set my stuff inside and closed the door, locking all three of the locks, and leaned against the door. The sigh that left my parted and completely peaceful lips was cut short by a noise. A girl moaning maybe?

  My head lifted when I heard it again.

  My hand slipped into my pocket, clutching the mace. I walked farther into the apartment, looking around for the source of the noise.

  Were the walls thin? Was it coming from another apartment?

  I tiptoed down the hall to the first bedroom. My heart was pounding as I rested my hand on the cold, metal knob and waited for the courage to open the door. I turned slowly, not making any noise.

  The room was a bit stale, but it was empty. I sighed and closed the door.

  I did the same in the bathroom, but again, it was empty. The new glass tiles and beautiful four-piece bathroom made me happy. But the sound of people moaning and a girl giggling didn’t.

  I left the bathroom and walked to the end of the hall, where the last bedroom was. I gripped the mace as I heard the sound again. I clutched both it and the doorknob. I turned the knob slowly, cracking the door open only a bit.

  Feet moved, squirming on the end of the bed, pushing beautiful beige covers to the floor.

  Two people mauled each other, sliding against one another. A strong male body with tattoos and lean muscles was grinding against a slim, overly-tanned female with bleached hair.

  My heart felt like it was going to explode. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 as I sprayed. Screams rose from the bed as I hosed them in mace.

  “What the fuck?” the guy screamed.

  I turned and ran down the hallway to the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it. In a low tone, I whispered, “Hi, I need the police. I live at 73 Hemenway Street, Apartment 521. There’s someone here. Intruders. Please hurry.”

  I turned off the phone and sat on the edge of the bathtub. My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry, and my hands clutched the mace so tight, I couldn’t feel it in my grip anymore.

  Hands started pounding on the door. Shouts and screams and footsteps were everywhere, making the small bathroom so tiny it felt like a coffin. I closed my eyes. Names were called, sentences were screamed, but I didn’t stop rocking and clutching the mace. The door sounded like it was going to be ripped off the hinges.

  I looked at my phone. I wanted my parents. I wanted Danny. I wanted anyone who would solve the dilemma and make it go away.

  My brain taunted me. It almost laughed at how right it had been. How I had made such a mistake. How I wasn’t strong.

  “You open this goddamned door and get the fuck out of my house! Crazy-assed, stalking bitch!” the guy screamed.

  I trembled but then I heard it, the sounds of rescue. The sounds of people shouting for them to get down on the ground. I started to cry. Tears of joy streamed down my cheeks.

  I got up and banged on the door.
“I’m in here. Is it safe?”

  A man shouted at me. “Miss, are you the one who called?”

  I turned the lock on the door and nodded.

  A police officer greeted me in the small crack space I let the door open. “Miss, you okay?”

  I started to cry heavily. “Noooooo.”

  I let him open the door all the way and pull me into his arms. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  He led me from the bathroom to the living room where two half-naked people were cuffed and on their bellies on the floor.

  The guy turned. His face was puffy and red from the mace. He glared. “She’s crazy. This is my house. Jesus. You idiots arrested the wrong person. She’s in my fucking apartment. What the fuck? Do you know who I am? she’s a stalker.”

  The cop gave me a look. I ran to my bag and fished out the lease agreement that I had printed out.

  “See—my house,” I said defiantly. “Besides, why the hell would I stalk you? Narcissistic dick.”

  The cop looked it over and shook his head. “She’s got a lease, man.”

  The girl was crying on the floor with no shirt on, and her obviously fake boobs were holding her up in the air, like she was doing ‘upward dog’ without hands.

  I looked at my watch. It was 5:00, and I wasn’t on schedule the way I wanted to be. I wanted to be running and unpacked by 5:30.

  Chapter Two

  Roomies

  I felt considerably worse when the tattooed guy produced a lease agreement, identical to mine, from a cupboard. He ranted and pointed at me, cussing up a storm when the cops removed the cuffs from him and the girl. They tried to calm him down, shaking their heads and muttering. “This is a civil issue. You need to hunt down the property-management people.”

  The guy rinsed his eyes at the sink in the island and pointed his middle finger at me, with water dripping from his red face. “This is bullshit. I want her escorted off the property. Use the cuffs.”