Chapter 12: Ricky
I jolted awake and blinked against the bright sunlight shining through the windshield. Yawning, I looked around. The neighborhood was quiet and cold, and the sun was just rising over the trees. I looked over to Sophie's house. The police car was parked in front of the house still. Her car was there also, along with another silver car next to hers, and the red car I saw before was parked behind the two.
I gripped the steering wheel. That boy was with Sophie inside of her house. Shouldn't he be in school or something and not bothering her at her house? I didn't enjoy killing friends of the one I loved, but if he continued interfering, I would have no choice but to get him out of the way.
A dark SUV passed me at the side, similar to mine but bigger. They stopped in front of Sophie's house and I wondered who it could be. Seconds later, a tall, dark-skinned man stepped out. I noticed a gun in its holster at his waist and a badge next to it that glinted against the bright sun. That's when I recognized him. He was the FBI agent who I'd seen before. He had been at Kimberly's house after...
I felt the tears form in my eyes. "Kimberly," I whispered into the silence of the car. I wiped the tears angrily and gripped the steering wheel again.
I'd seen him in Georgia and Tennessee, and once in Indiana. He was at every crime scene that I had created. Every murder I was responsible for. That FBI agent was following me, and now he was at Sophie's house. My nerves wouldn't settle. I knew it wasn't safe now, and I needed to be cautious with him around. Nothing would keep me from Sophie, though. Not even the FBI. Sophie was mine, not theirs. Something told me that Sophie was my last chance at happiness, and I wasn't going to get her to slip through my fingers as all the others did.
I started the engine and the car came alive. The radio turned on and I heard the news. I turned it up and listened to the sudden breaking news story. It was about Sophie. Some reporter was talking about an attack on a Manatee High School senior late last night, so it had to be Sophie.
"Manatee High School?" I whispered to myself. That was the same high school Kimberly attended. Sophie went to the same high school Kimberly went to?
The reporter continued to talk about a sketch of the man who was the suspected attacker. My blood ran cold. For almost two years, I'd left no evidence at any crime scene. I was careful, and I knew better. But Sophie was the first one who had ever gotten away from me. It was no surprise they had at least some information on me now. But all they had was a sketch of what they thought I looked like- nothing else. Sophie didn't even know my name yet, which frustrated me slightly. She should know who I am; she should know the man who loves her more than anything.
I breathed slowly, calming myself down. My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten in almost two days. I'd been so focused on Sophie, I didn't want to waste any time on myself. Hunger was usually something I could ignore, but not this time. I reached back to the back seat and pulled out a box of energy bars. It wasn't filling, but I didn't want to leave Sophie and spend time on getting food for myself. I tore one open and bit into it. My mouth watered immediately from the chocolate covering.
Remembering I'd left a gift for Sophie, I wondered if she opened it yet. Guilt washed over me as I remembered last night. I must've scared her worse than I thought, and I felt terrible about it. I didn't want to scare her; I wanted her to know I loved her and frightening her wasn't my intention.
A white van with a number five logo on the side zoomed past me. The tires screeched as it halted in front of Sophie's house, parking in the middle of the street. A few moments later, three men got out, one of them in a grey suit and the other two in jeans and t-shirts with the same number five logo on the back of them. One of them was holding a camera, and the other was rummaging through the back of the van. The man in the suit held a microphone in one hand and was talking to the cameraman. Minutes later, another van sped past me, parking a few feet from the first van. This one was a darker grey with a number twelve logo on it. A woman in a pantsuit and sky-high heels got out of the passenger side, fixing her hair as she did so.
It only occurred to me after watching them for a few minutes that these were the local news stations. I had only heard the first story about Sophie not even twenty minutes ago, and now they were at their house. News stations must work fast for breaking news stories.
Within the next few minutes, almost a dozen vehicles were blocking the street. Different news stations and journalists were all at the edge of her driveway. They were all getting ready, reporters fixing their appearances and cameramen getting their cameras prepared. Then, she appeared from the walkway to her front door.
My heart skipped a beat. She was in a faded ACDC t-shirt and sweatpants with her damp hair in a bun. Even in sweats, she looked stunning. I was awed by her appearance. She was frozen in place, just noticing the press at the edge of her driveway. They all turned to her and waved in her direction, holding out their microphones and asking her questions. She was holding the bouquet of roses I left for her. The vase slipped from her hand and crashed on the ground, the vase breaking into thousands of pieces. I leaned forward, wondering if she was okay. I put my hand on the door, prepared to jump out and make them all leave. Sophie obviously didn't want the attention. The officer that had been in the police car got out and started blocking the reporters and journalists as much as he could.
I could see her start to cry. Anger spread throughout my entire body. The FBI agent who had recently got to her house came out behind her, saw what was going on, then guided her back into the house. As much as the FBI agent made me feel uneasy, I was grateful to him at that moment for taking her away from the annoyance of the pestering reporters. How did they know which house to go to? Did one of her neighbors call the news stations and give her information away? The thought made me even angrier.
Sophie was upset and there was nothing I could do to comfort her. She was scared of me right now, and I had to give her time to register her feelings towards me. It shouldn't take long- I was sure of that. She needed somewhere to escape from all of the flashing cameras and stress of being a victim when she wasn't a victim at all.
I knew exactly where to take her, too.