Odd One Out

CHAPTER 9

Bailey
Friday, October 3

The wind had picked up slightly, and I wrapped my arms around myself as tightly as I could to prevent the chilly breeze from seeping in. My hair was a complete mess, but I refused to pick it up because it would only allow the wind to suck in the little bit of warmth I had left.

Naya's car passed me a couple minutes after we had all left the abandoned house, and even though my head was hanging low, I could hear her turning the corner, the sound of the engine fading as the seconds dragged by. Even Viktor's bike couldn't be heard anymore, which meant he was already far gone.

I walked alone through the icy winds for a couple more seconds before the sound of a different engine approached me from behind, causing one of my hands to swiftly slip into my coat's pocket. The cool texture of the pepper spray made my fingertips feel even icier than they did before, but I wasn't about to take any chances, especially not now that there was a killer on the loose. Of course, that killer could be me, but I still wasn't too sure about it.

"Hey," a gravely voice rang out behind me. Immediately recognizing it, I stopped in my tracks to look back at him.

"What?"

Viktor hesitated for a mere second before asking, "Need a ride?"

My gaze averted to the black motorcycle that was buzzing beneath him. Looking back up at him, I responded, "No thanks," before continuing my walk. What was he doing here? 

I crossed the street, looking both ways before doing so, and picked up my pace a bit once I was on the other side. I was still holding on to the pepper spray, and Viktor was still following me, and the wind was still trying to find a way into my coat.

"It's getting real cold outside, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

After a few seconds, he started talking again. "I don't think—"

"Weren't you already gone, Viktor?" I retorted, turning around to face him. He seemed caught off guard, pensive as he stared at me with slightly narrowed eyes. A small moment of silence passed us by before he answered with, "I'm not going to let you walk home alone."

I stood still, waiting for him to say more, to explain his sudden act of kindness. Instead, he shifted in his seat before turning towards the road, getting ready to leave.

"I mean, if you want to walk alone at night with a killer on the loose, that's fine by me."

"How do I know you're not the killer?" I blurted out before he had the chance to leave. He turned back to me, his expression stern yet at the same time somewhat amused, as if our conversation both bored and entertained him at the same time — a combination of a puzzle I was desperately trying to solve in my head.

Viktor shrugged, setting one foot back on the ground to balance. "Guess you'll just have to take a chance."

And that's how two minutes later, I found myself climbing right behind him onto his bike, trying and failing to keep a certain amount of distance.

"You're gonna need to hold on to me, unless you like falling," he mentioned, starting to move slightly. My arms reluctantly slid around his waist, and almost as soon as they did he sped up suddenly, causing my grip to tighten.

"Are you crazy?" I scolded loudly, to which he responded with silence. Or maybe he answered something, I don't know. Everything was so, so loud and incomprehensible, and it felt as though we were sliding on the concrete with how fast he was driving.

The coldness of the night hit me all at once, my eyes watering at the piercing cold wind hitting my face harder than I was used to. Lights zoomed by us, becoming a blurry mess combined with the tears already in my eyes.