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"Never close your lips to those whom you have already opened your heart." – Charles Dickens
It made me furious that Levi would say that I've told him I don't love him anymore.
In a way he was underestimating my love for him. How can he ever doubt my feelings for him?
I have never stopped having feelings for him.
It's been there, it probably will always be there.
I've changed because I love him!
I'm a different Maisie now because of him.
I hung up on Levi because I couldn't listen anymore.
My feelings for him do matter.
My love for him means something.
I pushed open the heavy front door of the school and halted on the cement pavement near the crosswalk. I looked in the distance hoping to find him lurking around somewhere.
He made it clear he wasn't leaving.
I looked from left to right looking for black hooded figure. I squinted my eyes when I saw a tiny bit of moment in the distance.
It was too big to be an animal.
It's moving!
It's him!
I sprinted after him, my feet struggling to keep up with the fast paced movements. Somehow I caught up to him.
He didn't see me coming.
"Screw you." I shouted, shoving him forwards. "Don't tell me how I feel because you have no idea what any of this has been like for me!"
"Sounds like lovers quarrel" It was a much lower voice then Levi's.
The figure turned around and looked at me.
I recognized that face.
I studied that face.
Stanley.
He was wearing a black hoodie, covering a blue checkered dress shirt and dark faded jeans. His black hair was a classic mop-top. He had bangs that grazed the eyebrows in front and a length that hung down to hit just above where a collar of a shirt would begin.
I stiffened.
"Maisie Brooks," a surprised laugh escaped his lips. He pushed his black framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "At last we meet." He had a deep voice. The voice that would give you goosebumps and not in the good kind of way.
He had a strong smell of aftershave.
I folded my arms, "You know, school staff don't take a strong liking to grown men hiding on school property."
"I think the staff here has gotten use to my spontaneous visits, don't you?" Stanley was all smiles as he scratched his short hair.
"So I've heard." I cocked my head my head to the side, "Can I help you?"
"My intention wasn't to come face to face with you just yet.----It seems you have become accustomed to visits from men in black hoodies, I suppose."
"I don't see why we couldn't have met earlier." I kept my voice calm. "I was in Dallas Stanley, you didn't have to fly out to Wake Forest to speak with me."
"I apologize, I was taken back by your call." He offered a regretful smile. "I have not spoken of the name Daxton Brooks in many years."
"--Yet you seem real cozy with his sister and his mother." I teased. "Does my dad know?"
Stanley shoved his hands in his pockets. "Your father and I are not on speaking terms.----May I give you some advice, Miss Brooks? It's not a kind thing to be so quick to judge. It will only lead to hurt."
"Is that your way of threatening me?" I asked flatly. " I know far more about this 'invention' then you may think I do. Believe me, I had more than a hunch when I called you."
"You are clueless, little girl," he retorted. "You have no clue what your assuming here."
"I already told you what I believed. I know it's true."
"You're very misinformed."
"If that's the case, then why don't you tell me what I'm wrong about?" I urged gently. "If I'm such a clueless, little girl, tell me what the real truth is."
----Unless he wants to be someone's bitch, he needs to start talking.
"Let us meet some other time. Somewhere private," he suggested.
"No way. I gave you the opportunity last time to meet privately and you bailed." I said, reminding him. "Don't fucken waste my time."
"I need you to meet with me in private. You'll understand why when we do."
"Nope."
"You want to hear what I have to say, Miss Brooks. As a sign of good faith; I was assigned the job of creating a prototype. One that your dad came up with and he alone wanted to use."
**
Imogen plopped down on the stool next to mine. She convinced me to come be her wing-woman at a party.
There was no real reason why she felt like celebrating ,but I guess she wanted an excuse to have a booze of a good time.
---That used to be me, sadly.
I wasn't drinking and I had no desire to.
I was here to be Imogen's wing woman and divert any eyes on me, onto her.
"You haven't danced once," she said, breathless from all that grinding she did.
It started off innocently. She was dancing and suddenly she saw this tall drink of water and decided that he would be her partner.
He wasn't expecting her.
He wasn't expecting a dance partner.
She wormed her way in between this guy and his younger looking male friend. She grinded with the tall one while the younger male started to awkwardly cheer them on. ----He then started to loudly sing the 'K-I-S-S-I-N-G' song and I knew he couldn't be old enough to be at this party.
Imogen didn't notice the red flag.
The tall guy scored that night though. If he was the same age as his friend, which is highly possible, he was telling all his other friends about the girl from the party. He had quite the story to tell.
"God it's so much fun!"
"I bet," I muttered. I was happy to be out doing something other then thinking about what to do about Stanley.
I said I would think about it and give him a call.
If I talk to Stanley, I may get more answers. Then again, he might play the asshole card and waste more of my time.
I don't feel comfortable meeting him now.
The problem though is we don't have any other leads. Levi hasn't been able to open those hidden files and there isn't anyone else to ask.--Well there is but he's refusing to let me take care of it.
Possessive, I know, but gosh was it ever a turn on!
Levi is still keeping secrets from me. I couldn't wrap my head around how he managed to pull off a mega death scam like this. It worked out too well for it to have been a spontaneous fluke as he so claims.
If I can't believe him, there is no trusting him.
"Earth to Maisie Brooks," Imogen waved her hand in front of my face. "Snap out of it, girl."
"---Sorry. Lot's on my mind."
"You always do. Come on, have some fun with me! You look so depressed and bored sitting here."
"I will. Later."
"Your gonna run out of time. I'm supposed to have the car back in an hour. You don't have time for, later."
If I run out of time, so be it.
I'm her wing- woman.
I'm not here for me.
"Fine, whatever." Imogen jumped off the bar stool and went back onto the dance floor.
"Hello there."
I looked over my shoulder to see another unwelcome intruder.
Surely by now, the men around me have realized I haven't left this seat once to dance. ----If I haven't moved, it means I won't move for anybody.
I've gotten alot of unwanted attention at this party. This guy isn't the first and he most likely wouldn't be the last.
I must have this aura that says 'this one is fuckable.'
There could even be a contest brewing between the male guests of the party to see who 'lands' me first.
I am not moving from this chair for anybody.
Someones gotta break the bad news to this guy.
I guess I'll have to be the one to give him the barer of bad news.
------I don't like that I have to break him gently but I feel that I've been very transparent here.
This girl's aura is saying, keep your hands away from this unmoving vehicle, and keep back at least 50 feet.
Unfuckwithable - (adj.) "when you're truly at peace and in touch with yourself, and nothing anyone says or does bothers you, and no negativity, or drama can touch you." - unknown
So far tonight, I have been approached by a variety of males. I've turned down some stoners, kids with bad BO and jocks that don't understand the word, ' no.'
The guy standing behind me was not someone I had come across before. He was well put together, maybe even a man in business.
"What do you want?" I demanded. There was no need to be polite.
"I was hoping to buy you a drink but you don't seem like you're the friendly type."
"Never been. Finally, someone acknowledges my flaws."
He was wearing a black suit with a trench coat hanging from his shoulders. He held a black briefcase.
He looked out of place.
He reminded me of one of those private detectives that you'd see in the old black and white films. "You look lost," I said. "The Inspector Clouseau convention is the next building down."
"My name is Luke Fitzgerald," he said loosing his tie with one hand.
"Well Mr. Luke Fitzgerald, we aren't in a business setting so you don't need to be so formal."
"Your name is Maisie Brooks, correct?" He asked, settling his briefcase on the bar counter infront of me.
"Umm maybe." I watched as he opened up his briefcase, digging around in it. "Who are you?"
How does he know my name?
"I have something for your friend Mr. Knight." Luke pulled out a medicine container from his briefcase and placed it in front of me on the counter. "I heard he's still in pain."
In pain?
Mr. Knight?
Luke closed his briefcase and returned it to the same right hand where he held it once. "Tell him to take it as needed and if he needs more to contact me. He knows how to get a hold of me."
I was more confused than ever as I picked up the medicine container and looked at the label.
Ref: 10045
For: Tommy Jones
TAKE ONLY AS NEEDED FOR PAIN.
Tramadol 50 mg
Levi was really dying this time.