Be Mine by Rick Mofina

having second thoughts about us?”
    “No. It’s just that we shouldn’t be thinking of ourselves now. We
should be helping find Cliff’s killer.”
    “I took risks for you.”
    “What? What risks? What are you talking about?”
    “It doesn’t matter now.”
    “What risks did you take for me?”
    She ran after him as he headed for the door. He stopped and turned.
    “He knew.”
    “What?”
    “Cliff knew about us.”
    “How could he? I never told him. I never told anyone. How could he
know unless--” She looked at Beamon, unsure of what she was seeing. God, no.
Her hands flew to her face.
    “Good-bye.”
    “Tell me what’s going on. Ray!”
    He left and Molly steadied herself against the wall. What was
happening? The ghosts of her life swirled around her, like a gathering storm.
She slid to the floor.
    She sat alone in silence for the longest time, understanding
nothing. What was Beamon talking about? She had to know. She had to force him
to explain. She deserved to know. Sitting there, Molly lost track of time until
she was exhausted. She collected the cups and began rinsing them in the sink.
    She looked out the window, down to the street, and froze. She
clutched the neck of her robe. A man was standing on the sidewalk in the shadow
of a tree.
    Staring directly up at her.
    Molly’s skin prickled with anger.
    She couldn’t see him clearly. Couldn’t get a good look at him. Had
no idea who it was, but damn it, she’d find out. She’d find out right now.
    She’d had enough of his crap.
    Molly yanked on her jeans and a sweater. She grabbed her pepper
spray, personal alarm, and cell phone. Furious, she flew down the stairs and
out the front door.
    But when she got to the tree, no one was there.

TWENTY-ONE

     
    Bleeder’s heart pounded as he strode
down the street away from Molly’s building. By the time he got to his car, his
ears were ringing and his head was throbbing. He drove across the Bay
Bridge to seek sanctuary, somewhere out of the way where he could think.
    The Dead Horse Bar.
    It was a squat building on a forgotten corner near the edge of Berkeley, a few blocks inside of Oakland. It had cracked weatherworn bricks and windows
painted over and barred. Inside, large TVs glowed over the sweeping
horseshoe-shaped bar. Except for a couple of sad cases shooting pool, the place
was empty. Bleeder took a stool and ordered a beer.
    Relax, she didn’t see you. If she did, so what? She knows you, knows
the mask you wear. How could she suspect anything more than a friend watching
over her? That’s right. Relax, she didn’t see you.
    But it wasn’t working out the way he’d planned. Hooper was gone, yet
Molly was taking too long to grasp the truth. How much longer would he have to
wait before she realized the magnificent thing he’d done for her?
    Give her a little more time.
    How much? He yearned to reveal himself to her. He’d been so careful.
He’d earned his right to her. Earned it. Be patient.
    Remember how it started with Kyle? Remember?
    Far from perfect.
    In the weeks after Kyle and Rowley had beaten him into a coma,
Bleeder had kept his word to take care of everything. By day at school, Bleeder
endured the taunts and teasing, which eventually faded with his bruises. As
expected, he vanished back into being less than nothing. Invisible again. Only
this time he was roiling under the surface. This time Bleeder took control,
honing his anguish, meticulously sharpening it into his sword of vengeance.
    At night Bleeder put Kyle under surveillance, as if he were an
insect in his personal lab. He studied Kyle’s life away from school, analyzed
every move he made. His routine, his habits, his chores, where he gassed his
car, where he went for burgers and shakes with Amy. Bleeder probed for points
of vulnerability.
    But it didn’t go well at first. In fact, the whole thing almost blew
up in his face.
    On the nights he could get his father’s car, Bleeder would track
Kyle, study him, and anticipate