Chapter 4 Confidential Gatherings

Linda's POV

"I have no business here."

With my heart thumping so loudly that it reverberated in my ears, I leaned against the wall close to the rear of the library and murmured it to myself. Already, the sun had set, illuminating the sky with gold and gentle pink hues. There was nobody else. Only me. Awaiting him once again.

I was aware that it was incorrect. I should have been at home assisting Grandma or getting ready for tests, I knew. However, every time I attempted to go, Jackson drew me back.

His tone. His gaze. His assurances.

I forgot everything else because of them.

I forgot to breathe as he emerged from the darkness, wearing all black, and grinning as if I were the only one he saw.

"You arrived," he murmured softly.

"I almost didn't."

"However, you did."

I gave a nod. I detested the way he could simultaneously inspire fear and bravery in me.

He approached me and gave me a hot cup of tea. It was just as I wanted it. Steer clear of sugar. A little milk.

My chest hurt from that little act.

Under the tree behind the library, we took a seat on the ancient bench. This late, no one ever showed up. It turned became our hidden location. And I found myself returning each day after school.

even though I vowed not to.

Jackson didn't behave like a millionaire during those silent times.

He inquired about my favorite music, literature, and dreams. He paid attention as if every thing I said were important. And it seemed genuine when he chuckled at my dumb jokes. Not like a planned or phony thing.

One night he said, "You still want to be a teacher?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then I'll assist you. everything you need.

I blinked. "Why?"

"Because I want to provide you the life you are worthy of."

That was what I wanted to think. Yes, I did.

I began to trust him as a result.

For two weeks, we met virtually every day in secret.

My nervousness subsided in the silence of those encounters. He made no attempt to hurry. I wasn't pushed by him. He just listened. spoke. grinned.

He sometimes brushed my hand as he handed me a cup. At other occasions, he would look at me for a moment longer than necessary. It moved slowly. secure. addictive.

When we weren't together, I even began to miss him.

Tasha took note.

One day, she informed me, "You've changed." "What is wrong with you?"

I lied and said, "Nothing."

"You look like that."

"What do you see?"

"The appearance of a female tripping over something hazardous."

I didn't respond. therefore she was correct.

Jackson offered to drive me home in his black automobile one rainy night. My heart was a jumble of feelings as I gazed out the window and watched the water race over the glass.

He smiled gently and said, "When it rains, you don't say much."

"I get silent amid the rain."

"Is it depressing for you?"

"On occasion."

He made a move for my hand.

I didn't back off.

Not at that moment.

He turned to face me and stopped the vehicle when we reached my street.

"I need to know something, Linda.."

"What?"

"Do you think I'm trustworthy?"

I took a deep breath.

then gave a nod.

Indeed. I have faith in you.

I meant it, too.

However, something changed the next day.

He was in town when I saw him.

Not with me.

with a different female.

She seemed older. Chic. She took his arm as if it were her own.

Together, they chuckled.

He failed to notice me.

Or maybe he did-and decided against it.

I watched from behind a tree, feeling sick to my stomach.

I almost raced after him when he left her and drove off by himself.

I chose to wait instead.

waited behind the library for our rendezvous.

I was there, arms crossed, chest tense, when he arrived.

I responded softly, "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."

He blinked. "What?"

"That local chick."

He hesitated. then let out a sigh. That's the daughter of my business partner. Not much more.

"Your arm was grasped by her."

She always does. I urged her to stop.

I didn't think he was real. However, I desired to.

So I remained.

Once more.

We continued to meet behind closed doors.

I began missing school more often.

Keeping Grandma in the dark.

as well as from me.

However, a voice within me cautioned me to exercise caution even as the sensations intensified. to reduce speed.

Then something occurred that really rocked me.

Jackson arrived one day looking strange. Weary. pale. anxious.

He grabbed my hand and murmured, "Linda.." "Please do something for me."

"What?"

"Please keep what we've been doing a secret from everyone. Not your companion. Not your grandmother. Nobody.

"Why?"

"It's difficult. People wouldn't comprehend. They would attempt to halt this.

"Adrian, what is this?"

He didn't respond. Rather, he departed after kissing my forehead.

No justifications.

Nothing but quiet.

I remained up pondering that night.

To him, what was I really?

For what reason did he conceal me like a secret?

And why did I continue to let him?

His words kept repeating in my head as I tossed and twisted.

I then heard a noise at my window at approximately midnight.

I hurried over and pulled back the curtain.

Nothing.

Nothing except blackness.

Then there was a little knock.

Tap, tap.

Slowly, I opened the window.

On my floor, a hand reached in and dropped something.

A folded note was it.

And it had five terrifying phrases in large, sloppy handwriting:

"There are others like you."

When I completely opened the message, a picture was within. Jackson and I, together with another female who was observing from the shadows behind us. **

With my hands shaking, I gazed at the picture. They took it during one of our covert meetings in the park, without my knowing. Jackson was grinning as he turned to face me. Mine was kind, blushing maybe. The fuzzy figure in the backdrop, however, was what gave me the creeps.

A female.

Standing motionless. observing us. Even though her face wasn't entirely visible, her stance seemed familiar. As if she had been there already.

As if she had been there all along.

I turned the note upside down. More words, shakily and quickly scribbled.

"Ask him before it's too late about Mia."

My chest constricted.

Mia was who?

Why did it seem that anything deadly was associated with her name?

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. A call from an unidentified number.

"Don't have faith in Adrian. He told lies about everything.

Then there was another buzz. This time, it's a picture of myself at the school gate.

The message said:

"Someone is watching you."

I let the phone drop.

I felt a chill of horror creep up my back.

At that moment, a faint knock came from the door of my bedroom.

Grandma's voice cried out, "Linda.." "There's someone here requesting you... claims Jackson is his name.

However, I had kept my residence a secret from him.

Jackson was standing there, soaked in rain, with blood on his shirt and fear in his eyes, as I carefully opened the door.