Hide (Sequel to RUN)

Chapter 16

The gym lights were off. It wasn't that I liked them that way. No. It was like Aaron was emerging from the shadows every second, trying to grab me.

But that was something I could shake off. I liked not being in handcuffs for breaking and entering.

"Focus," I murmured under my breath, sending another punch into the bag in front of me. When I'd left Valda's, this was where my feet had taken me. I couldn't tell whether they'd helped the situation or made it worse.

I glanced into the darkness again, sure I'd seen someone moving. I grunted, giving up on my focus. My hand went for the handle of the gun tucked into snugly against my spine. I usually didn't like relying on guns, but the cool metal against my skin gave me a reassurance.

I pulled the gun out of my waistband, pointing it steadily into the darkness that was forming into my worst nightmare.

"I know you're there," I whispered, following the shadow's movement. It stopped. Then it faded back into the same shapeless darkness it had been before.

I brought the gun to my side, scanning the darkness again. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I confirmed that my mind was a stupid-idiot-head and that I'd been played by it. I tucked the gun back into my waistband, trying to shake the visions of craziness out of my head.

"You're not crazy," I muttered angrily to myself. "I. Am. Not. Going. Crazy." A lock clicked in the distance.

I retreated into the corner behind me, trying to decipher whether or not the click had really sounded. A second later, the door to the gym swung open, letting in the dim light of the street lamp just in front of the door. A slightly stooped figure walked in, closing the door and locking it. I recognized the figure right away; the owner, Mr. Bollinger.

Mr. Bollinger, walked into his office near the entry door and turned on the light. I rolled my eyes as I saw him sit at his desk through the window. If I started practicing again, he'd hear me and call the cops. I enjoyed being handcuff free.

I sighed softly, pushing off the corner. Going and talking to him was the only option if I wanted to keep practicing here. He would be there for hours on end--I know from experience--and I didn't feel like making a plan to sneak out. It really just made me annoyed at that moment.

My footsteps were ghost-like as I made my way across the gym and into the bright office. I leaned against the door nonchalantly before coughing loudly.

Mr. Bollinger jumped out of his seat, grabbing under his desk for the gun hidden there.

"Hey, Mr. Bollinger," I muttered, looking him in the eyes. The terror that had taken hold of his face slid away as he realized it was me, but confusion swept over it again as he patted the underside of the desk.

"Where did I put that gun?" he muttered after giving me a slight nod of acknowledgement. I pulled the gun that had given me so much comfort out of my waist-band and held in my open palms in front of me.

"It's here," I murmured. Mr. Bollinger looked into my palms, the terror leaking back onto his face.

"Lekia," he breathed, "please hand me the gun." It must've been something in the way he said it, because anger flared up inside my gut.

"I'm not a ticking time bomb!" I screamed, taking the gun in my right hand and bringing it to my side. "I didn't want to get jumped! Is that so big a deal? Gosh..." I trailed off, gripping the gun until my knuckles turned white.

"I'm here now. I won't let anyone jump you. Now give me the gun please." I took a deep breath, throwing a bucket of water on the flame of anger. Keeping my eyes closed, I flipped the gun, caught it by the muzzle, and handed it to Mr. Bollinger handle first. The gun was snatched from my hand and I heard as it was slipped back into its appropriate holster under the desk.