Creatus (They Exist), prequel to the Creatus Series

Chapter 14

Derrick sat in the back of the library, his head down, ball cap low over his eyes. Kristina had been coming here regularly, attempting to get some college work finished before she went to work.

Obviously, she was safe in the library, so he had no reason to be here. But something had changed. At twenty years old, she was a beautiful woman, a woman he suddenly wanted to meet. He wondered if she still remembered him. He'd managed to stay invisible for the last four years, but he couldn't help but wonder if she'd even recognize him. The thought that she wouldn't stung his heart; he wanted her to know him. To know him as intimately as he knew her.

Most days she just read and took notes, but today, she'd been working intently on a piece of paper, had changed out her pencil several times. She was drawing, he realized. She'd drawn since she was a little girl, but he'd never seen one other than the page Janelle had held up. He'd heard Kristina rip up several drawings when she was young and someone had walked into the room. Ever since the one girl had teased her when she was eight, it was as though she was afraid to let anyone see what she'd drawn.

He felt a compelling urge to walk by, but he couldn't. He could never get close enough that she could see him. If she recognized him ... as much as he wanted her to, he knew that would be dangerous — he couldn't think about it. He'd told Michael repeatedly, he'd never allow anything to happen to her. He'd failed once; he refused to fail again. It wasn't in his nature to fail. He had one goal: keep her safe for one more year, until she was twenty-one. Truly, she was a grown woman now, but she was still so vulnerable. She was always trying to find herself, so she still made unwise decisions. Not that he stopped her from making the wrong decisions; he just wanted to be there if someone took advantage of her.

Kristina picked up her phone and glanced at the time.

"Yes, you're late, silly girl. As always," he said under his breath. He couldn't help but smile. She tried so hard, but she was easily distracted. At least she was trying to finish college, trying to make a better life.

The last few weeks had been tough, though. Both Janelle's death and her almost-rape had happened in March, so she didn't do well this time of the year when everyone else was basking in the springtime. And tonight was the anniversary of Janelle's death, the reason he'd decided to keep an eye on her. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but when he'd driven by her apartment the last few nights — just to make sure she was safe — he'd heard her screams. He'd learned to tell her nightmares, though, so he didn't rush to her fire escape anymore, ready to kill someone.

She stood and shoved her books inside her backpack, then crumpled up the paper she'd been working on so diligently. She threw it in the trashcan, then darted out of the library.

He couldn't stop himself ... he had to see it. He ambled toward the bin, his eyes darting around the library. Not that it was illegal, but he didn't want the librarians to see him fishing through the garbage. He waited until all eyes were averted, then reached down so quickly that probably no one would have seen him anyway.

He waited a few seconds to make sure she'd pulled out of the parking lot, then walked outside and sat on a bench. He unfolded the wadded up piece of paper, but then gasped at the image.

He'd hoped that when she occasionally gazed up at the rooftops she was looking for him. And he'd been right. She was looking for him. Why else would she have drawn this image? But ... he'd also been wrong in thinking she couldn't identify him. She'd remembered every detail of his face, his hair, his eyes. She knew him as intimately as he knew her. She'd only seen him twice, and both times, she'd been under duress. And yet, she'd captured his image perfectly.

He released a long sigh. If Michael ever saw this ... If anyone ever saw this ... As much as he didn't want to destroy the drawing, he walked to the librarian's desk, knowing they had a shredder. Without asking, he slipped the piece of paper he wished he could keep into the blades.

Kristina, he whispered her name as the black-and-white image separated into thin white strips and dropped into the wastebasket. He closed his eyes ... I want you to see me. I wish I could let you see me. But not yet ... maybe someday.

His phone chimed. He looked at the message. E.R. STAT

He charged off toward his vehicle, glad for the interruption of his thoughts, but hoped it wasn't someone in his family. He hit the call button on his steering wheel, and Roseanne answered after a few rings.

"Roseanne, it's Derrick. I'm on my way. Who's the patient?"

"Mrs. Jones. Dr. Maher wants to transport her to Mass General, but she refuses, says she's been coming to this hospital for years. She'll only speak to you."

Derrick smiled. "She's a stubborn woman, I know. I'm on my way." Mrs. Jones wouldn't see anyone but him or his father. But she did have heart trouble. At least it wasn't someone in the family.

Thankfully,his job kept him busy, so he wasn't tempted to constantly watch Kristina anymore. But he'd probably have to go without sleep tonight. No telling how much she'd drink or what she'd do to commemorate Janelle's death, and he couldn't lose her. Not when he and Kristina were so close to the same age now.t