Unleashed (13 page)

Claire blinked and shook her head. “It was nothing. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He clenched his jaw then leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “Good luck.”

As soon as he was gone, Steph came up beside her. “Is it always like that with those two?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Claire said.

“Well you better figure it out. You’re playing with fire.” She walked by her and Claire followed.

Claire didn’t have romantic feelings for Logan, but then again he’d never touched her like that before either. The moment his fingers had pressed against the underside of her palms, she’d felt a passion, a heat that ignited her insides. It had momentarily dazed her. But now her thoughts had returned to Ethan.

Ten minutes later, though, Claire forgot all about Logan and Ethan and entered her own private musical world. Her voice, the lyrics, and the musical notes swirled around her, burning her soul. As if in a counseling session, her troubles melted away and when they finished almost an hour later, Claire felt like she'd been reborn.

"That was incredible," Steph said, still air drumming.

Audrey sighed as if she'd just been kissed. "Most amazing thing I've ever done." Her voice was normal, not loud at all.

Kate took hold of her arm, and Claire thought she was going to high five her or something, but instead she said, "I owe you an apology, Claire.”

"For what?"

"I have some major guilt about the whole money thing. I should never have taken it without you knowing. It was a jerk move. Just say the word and I’ll get it back.”

“It was a jerk move, but I get why you did it.” Claire glanced over at Steph who was laughing at something Audrey was saying. She didn’t want to think about the money or Gage ever again. Show wanted to move forward with friends, the band and Ethan. “Just don’t ever steal from me again.”

Kate’s eyes widened, and she gave her a hug. “You got it.”

Claire squeezed her back then let go. "Now who wants to have some fun?"

Before anyone else could answer, Kate grinned and said, "I’m out. Let's meet here in an hour. I'm going to go find Mike." She disappeared before any of them could object.

“Anyone see Logan?” Claire asked. He was gone from backstage when they had finished their set, which was unlike him.

“I saw him heading into the audience when we started playing,” Audrey said, after lowering a water bottle from her mouth.

"You guys go on then,” Claire said. “I’ll wait here for a few to see if Logan or Ethan shows up.”

"You got it,” Steph said, tossing the drumsticks onto the couch. She and Audrey left the room.

Claire paced back and forth, to full of energy to sit down.  On the dark walls were posters of legendary bands: Heart, The Doors, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and many more. She wondered if their reason for performing music was the same as hers: a way to cope with her past.

After a few minutes, Claire grew restless and decided to go try and find the boys. She just didn’t realize how difficult of a task that would be. Moving through the crowds of people was about impossible.

She stuck to the perimeter, wishing she were a few inches taller to see over everyone’s heads. And calling for him would've been a waste of her voice. No amount of screaming could be heard over the last band of the night. They had so much bass in their music she could barely hear the singer.

Unable to find Ethan or Logan, she eventually made it to the other side of the room and to the stairs leading up to the balcony. She went up them and eventually squeezed her way to the railing. Leaning over, she peered into the crowd below. From this high everyone looked the same. Bobbing heads, twisted bodies, like one giant creature from another world. She leaned back and sighed.

Just then her phone buzzed inside her pocket. She pulled it out and looked down. One new text message from a number she didn't recognize. It read:

“You look delicious tonight. Love the dress.”

Her gaze jerked up and scanned the audience again, her heart pounding. When she didn’t see anyone looking at her, she texted back: “Who is this?”

It wasn't more than ten seconds later when she received back: “The giver of your dreams, the lover of your soul. I’m here, and I want you.”

She almost dropped the phone.
Gage.
Once again she scanned the area below. She didn't see anyone she knew, but he had to be here. She quickly shoved her way back down the stairs, fear tightening around her chest like a constricting snake. 

Claire glanced at everyone she passed until the room began to spin, and she couldn't tell one face from another. The air in the club was smothering, hot and musty from the sweaty crowd. The smell made her nauseous.

Finally, she reached the hall leading to the back of the stage. She stumbled into it, blinded. At first she thought something was wrong with her eyesight, but after rubbing her eyes, she realized the hall lights were off. At the end was a thin stream of light beneath the closed door of the dressing room. And not far from there, Claire knew she'd find the door leading outside.

Not liking the idea of creeping down a dark hallway, she decided to run and risk the chance of tripping. Luckily she didn't trip, but she did crash into something solid. Hands gripped her arms tightly. In her mind, Claire saw Gage's cold eyes and twisted smile. She began to struggle, punching at the unknown person in front of her.

"Claire! Stop it. What's wrong with you?"

It took her a moment to realize she recognized the voice. "Logan?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

She fell against him. "Get me out of here. Please."

Logan wrapped his arm around her and guided her to the door. As soon as it opened, she stumbled into the night. Her hands pressed on her knees while she gasped for air. She thought she was going to throw up, but then Logan pressed his hand against her back and her stomach slowed its centripetal motion.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Claire straightened and tilted her head toward the dark sky. "I can't see the stars," she said, trying to think of something else.

Logan stepped in front of her. "Claire! What's wrong?"

She lowered her eyes to meet his. "He's here."

"Who?"

"Gage."

Logan's muscles tensed. "Where?"

"Inside somewhere."

"You saw him?"

"He sent me a text message."

"Let me see."

Claire handed him the phone. He quickly read over the messages. "I'm going back in."

He moved to open the door, but she stopped him. "No! Please don't leave me."

Logan’s eyes closed, and his jaw muscles bulged, but he stayed. "You should probably call Smith. Tell him about Gage. They'll want to know he’s here."

Claire nodded and dialed the police station. Smith wasn’t in, so she explained to a deputy what was going on. He assured her they’d look into it. 

When she hung up, Logan didn't say a word. He reached to take hold of her hand but hesitated. Claire didn’t care for any of that right now. She took hold of his hand, needing something to ground her.

Logan led her out of the alley and onto a bench. "We'll wait here," he said.

She sat down and looked up again, desperately searching the night sky for stars. She needed light. Not man-made ones, either, but real heavenly-created light. Just the thought of Gage seemed to fill her with a darkness so great, she was afraid it would swallow her whole.

Logan pointed into the night sky. "Over there. The North Star."

She looked over. Through the haze of the city’s lights, she could just barely make out the star’s faint glow.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice as faint as the star's light.

“Don’t apologize,” she said, wondering what he was sorry for. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. When he opened his mouth to speak again, she asked, “How’d you know it was me? In the hallway?”

“The second I touched you, I knew.” He looked at her briefly and she swore she saw her reflection in his eyes, but then he turned away. “I know you, Claire.”

She said nothing, just feeling incredibly grateful that she had such a good friend. Together they sat side by side, on the cold metal bench, staring at the stars for several minutes until she heard, "There you guys are."

Claire turned around. Kate, Steph, and Audrey walked toward them. Ethan followed behind. He looked confused when he saw her with Logan. She jumped up and rushed toward him. "Can we go, please? Now?"

He looked at Logan and then back at her. "What's wrong?"

"Gage was here."

Ethan’s head swiveled around. "What? Where?" His whole body tightened.

"Inside."

"That guy had the nerve to show up here?" Kate gasped.

"Who's Gage?" Audrey asked.

Claire tugged on Ethan’s arm. "I've already called the police. Let them deal with it. Please, just take me home."

Ethan looked back at the club, deep lines appearing in his forehead, and said, “I want to talk to Smith myself.”

Logan walked by him. "You can call him on the way home. Let's get out of here."

"But who's Gage?" Audrey said again, loud enough for passing strangers to stop and stare.

Kate took her arm. "I'll tell you in the car. Come on, Steph." The three of them headed off in another direction.

Claire followed Logan to his car. Ethan kept a steady hand pressed against her back. When she moved to sit in the passenger seat, Logan stopped her. "Sit in back with Ethan."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."

The long drive home was quiet except for Ethan’s phone call to Smith who he finally got in touch with. Smith had already been informed of the situation by his officer’s and had spoken to Roseburg’s local authorities. Smith assured him the situation was being taken care of.

When he was finished, Ethan wrapped his arms around her and rubbed the underside of her hand with his thumb. Logan pretended to be into his music, but she caught him glancing at her in the rearview mirror several times, his eyes sad and she swore she even saw anger a couple of times.

At the high school, Claire thanked Logan again and said goodbye. He nodded and drove away, not looking back.

"I'm glad he was with you," Ethan said after they got into his car and pulled onto the road.

Claire just stared out the window, thinking of Gage. How did he know she was there?

"It should’ve been me,” he said. “I went to the balcony first, but when I didn’t see you, I went back to the dressing room.”

“We must’ve just missed each other. Don’t worry about it.”

"It's a horrible feeling."

She looked at him. "What is?"

He gripped the steering wheel. "Not being able to protect you."

"You don't have to protect me. I actually enjoy fighting, remember?" But what she didn’t admit was that there was something inside of Gage she didn’t know how to fight and it terrified her.

"That's not what I mean,” Ethan said. “I want to protect you from evil. That's not something you can physically fight."

She turned to him, startled. It’s like he’d read her mind. "You really think he’s evil and not some messed up teenage boy?"

Ethan shook his head and furrowed his brow like he was trying to figure out his next words. "I think this Gage guy goes beyond messed up. You said so yourself, there was something dark in him, indescribable."

Claire turned her attention to the darkened window, not knowing how to respond. He was right. Something about Gage frightened her beyond anything she’d ever met and that included her father. Maybe evil was the right word to describe him.

"That's what I want to protect you from,” Ethan said. He reached over and took her hand. “I can tell you’re scared, and I'm not used to seeing that side of you."

"I'll figure it out."

"Not alone." He squeezed her hand and said nothing else until they pulled up to her house a few minutes later. At the front door, he stopped her from going in. "One day soon," he said, his face close to hers, "you're going to fall in love with me as much as I am with you.” He kissed her briefly and walked away.

Claire thought the night had been ruined and nothing could salvage it, but in one simple and sweet sentence he'd made her feel whole. If this was love, then she was really looking forward to feeling more of it.

SEVENTEEN

Albert had lost control. And it had only taken one seemingly perfect distraction to cause the tear in his identity, and what had oozed out the jagged wound was the familiar darkness he'd been trying to hold back.
Gage.

He stared into the mirror across from his bed. His gaze was strong, immoveable.

Gage had made his appearance while Claire was singing without the help of any drug. His prison had been carelessly unattended; his guard distracted by the voice of an angel. Fortunately for Albert, the rip was not wide enough for Gage to fully take control, but it had given him enough time to steal a phone and contact Claire. To scare her.

Gage had seen her frightened expression just before he was mentally shoved back into his cage. The fear in her eyes had given Gage an added strength, and Albert feared it was just a matter of time before he returned.