Carnal Desire Ch. 11-17

"So, does the name Drake Webster sound familiar?" She asked again. Hearing his name caused an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach.

"Uhm. Yes." I said, attempting to clear the frog in my throat.

"Well, in that case would you be willing to come down to the station to answer a couple of questions?" The detective asked, her voice sounding every bit the detective.

Part of me didn't want to have to go through the grueling process of telling the police about past events. The other part of me knew I didn't have any other choice. The quicker I informed them about it, the better my chances. "Yes. I can." I replied after weighing my options.

"Great. When is a convenient time for you?" She asked a little bit too enthusiastically.

"I can be there in about a half hour." I didn't want to waste any time. As I said, the quicker the better.

"Perfect. We'll be expecting you then." The detective not sounding the least bit surprised.

"Ok. See you then. Bye Detective." I pressed the end call button.

It took a moment to move from where I was standing. Trying in vain to get a handle on the fear that was coursing through me. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I was finally able to calm down enough to move. I hastily packed my things and rushed out of the building. I had to get to the police station as fast as I could. I could only hope that whatever information I gave the detective would help to find him.

Walking through the school parking lot made me more nervous and paranoid than I had felt in a long time. I couldn't help but to look over my shoulder with every step I made to my car. On my way to the police station, it was difficult for me to wrap my mind around everything that had transpired. It was hard to fathom that for the first three and a half weeks into my new teaching position, Drake had been walking the halls of the school.

It all started to make sense; the little things I would feel every time I was around him. Why every time I would feel sick to my stomach when he was in close proximity to me. Why I would feel like I needed to avoid him every time I seen him.

The thing that made it even more bizarre was the amount of plastic surgery he had done. You can't fake that type of work; no amount of latex or silicone could compare to reconstructing your identity. And if you knew Drake, you would know that he would go to any lengths to get what he wanted.

How did he find me? How long has he been following me? How could I not notice? How could I not see it when he was in right in front of me? I should have known. The familiarity of his eyes should have been warning enough, it should have been made me more alert than I was. I let my guard down and I almost paid the price for it.

I walked into the police station not really knowing what to expect. The eggshell-colored walls made the building seem drab and dreary. Which was unexpected considering the outside of the building seemed renovated into a more modern look. I walked to the front desk and told the receptionist who I was there to see. She immediately called Detective Lancaster.

I only had to wait two minutes before she appeared through the door. Her shoulder length blond hair was put into a low ponytail. Her grey woman's pants suit doing wonders for her long legs, while her suit jacket and white dress shirt accentuated her athletic build. She was no Jordan, but she was definitely impressive, nonetheless.

"Good afternoon Ms. Vaughn." She greeted as she reached out to shake my hand.

"Good afternoon, Detective." I replied in turn as I took her hand in mine.

"Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause." She apologized with sincerity in her voice, I let my hand drop back down to my sides. "If you'll just follow me, we can get this over with as soon as possible." She then led me through a large room that had various amount of desks and offices. The crowded room was booming with police officers and detectives, phones ringing and voice chatter.

Detective Lancaster led me to a far-right corner office. The room itself wasn't very big, although it was large enough to hold a desk, office chair and two chairs opposite her chair. A few bookshelves aligned the walls. A large window was placed behind the desk, allowing enough light to illuminate the room.

She gestured for me to take a seat as she sat down. Situating herself comfortably, as I did the same. She placed her arms on her desk, no doubt questions coming to mind as she looked at me sitting across from her. She cleared her throat, "Thank you for coming on such short notice." The detective started out.

"It's no trouble at all." I replied in kind. Still attempting to calm the fear I felt.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. So, first of all, I would like to start off by reiterating what I told you over the phone if that's alright with you." The detective said in a poised manner. No doubt having to say these same words to multiple people throughout her career.

"Of course. By all means." I agreed.

Looking satisfied with my answer, she began her explanation. "Well, like I said before in one of our previous conversations, we were waiting on the DNA results, which we found when we did a thorough search of his apartment. And judging from the state of his apartment he had left in a hurry, leaving a few things behind. We were also able to conclude that he hadn't been staying there long from what we could tell. My guess is he had only been there for a about a month or so." As the detective continued to explain how they went about their investigation, it only confirmed my suspicions. He had been watching me, probably longer than I suspected. Another shiver threatening to erupt from me.

I struggled to listen as she filled me in on the rest of her investigation. My mind racing, knowing the possible dangers that lie ahead. I was pulled out of my thoughts by her first official question. "So, Ms. Vaughn. How do you know Mr. Drake Webster A.K.A Jackson Wallace?" She asked as she sat back in her chair.

"He was an old college boyfriend." I admitted, mentally cringing at this confession.

"And how did the two of you meet?" Her question rather generic, but necessary, nonetheless.

"We met in the middle of my sophomore year at Yale, during an English Literature study group."

"I see. How long did the two of you date?" She asked, at this point I could tell she was trying to read my behavior, searching for subtle expressions in my demeanor. Which there was none. I didn't have anything to hide when it came to Drake Webster.

"Almost two years." I stated.

"And during that time, did anything seem out of the ordinary about him?" She inquired as she waved her hand in a circular motion.

"Honestly? Not at first." I confessed.

"What do you mean, not at first? Did something happen?" By this time, she was leaning over her desk again.

"Well, like I said, at first everything was fine. We were like any other normal college couple. Everything was actually pretty good. He was actually really sweet, really attentive to me. He would take me out to dinner, dancing and he even organized a huge birthday party for me when I turned twenty-one. It was actually one of the sweetest things anyone ever did for me up until that point. He invited all of my friends and even flew most of my extended family in from Cairo. But then a few months after our first-year anniversary, things changed. He changed. He started acting different."

"How so?" The detective's intrigue was growing after hearing this.

"It was subtle, at first, I didn't really notice the change. It was actually my college roommate Keira who pointed it to me one night. He started by slowly secluding me from my friends, manipulating me to stay by him and only him. When I wanted to go out, he would make me feel guilty for wanting to spend time with my friends or keep me from going to study groups. Always telling me that's what I had him for. Then things progressively got worse as the weeks went on, he suddenly became very possessive of me. It came to the point where he would be waiting for me outside after each of my lectures. Until one day it got so much worse." I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I thought back on what happened next.

"I'm sorry Ms. Vaughn. I know this must be very difficult for you. But we need to know exactly what this man is capable of. And any information you can give us will help. Even in the slightest detail, something could give us a lead on his possible whereabouts, anything can help." The tone in her voice was one of true concern. I could see by the expression on her face that this was part of the job that she hated. Bringing up past traumas.

I took a moment to compose myself. Then I continued, "The day everything came out into the open, I was a junior in college. I had managed to talk to my friend Keira that day. We ended up making plans to go out that night. At that point, I was determined to see my friends and just let loose because we had just finished with our midterm papers, and I needed a break from studying and anything that had to do with school. Drake happened to away that weekend, so I thought I could go out without him finding out." I paused, closing my eyes in order to remember and to try to stop the tears from falling.

"Take your time." Detective Lancaster encouraged.

I nodded as the tears began to fall again. I really thought I could handle talking about this without crying, considering it had been so long ago. After a few brief moments I was able to proceed. "I had just gotten home from the gym, and I had planned to take a shower then get ready for my night out. By the time I got out of the shower, Drake was sitting on my couch with my phone in his hands going through my text messages. As soon as he seen me walk into the room, I could see the anger in his eyes. I mean he was livid. One thing led to another, and we got into a heated argument. I told him I needed to get out of the house, and he accused me of wanting to cheat on him. Which was completely absurd because I had never given him reason to suspect anything. Anyway, things escalated fairly quickly. Before I knew it, he hit me." By this time the tears fell rapidly, she got up and walked around her desk and handed me a tissue. I thanked her.

The detective then sat on top of her desk in front of me. "What happened next?" She asked, appearing not really wanting to ask the question.

"As soon as he realized what he had done, he apologized profusely. But I had already made up my mind as soon as the shock wore off. I told him to leave and that we were through. I didn't want anything to do with him after that."

"Did he do anything after that?"

"He tried to apologize every chance he could. I would avoid him every time, making sure we never had the same classes or went to the same study groups. I even changed most of my social groups and hangouts just to avoid him. I had been living with Keira for a few months, once I told her what happened she thought it would be best if we moved into a different apartment. To say she was upset is putting it mildly. But we somehow managed to regain some type of normalcy. It wasn't until my senior year when I started to feel like I was being watched. It didn't matter where I was or what I was doing, I couldn't shake this eerie feeling every time I left the apartment. I told Keira of my suspicions and she suggested that we shouldn't be alone, no matter where we went."

"Your friend Keira sounds really supportive, and very intelligent. It was a smart idea for you to move as well as stick together." She said as she braced arms on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs as they were stretched out in front of her.

"Yeah, she's the best." I replied with a halfhearted smile.

"So, you said you felt like you were being watched. When and where did you first start to feel like someone was watching you?"

"It was some time in the middle of November, just outside the school library. A few of us were leaving from a long evening of studying. It was a dark outside by the time we were done. We all separated in the parking lot; I was walking to my car when suddenly it felt like I was being watched. I remember shivering at the eerie feeling creeping up my skin. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I hastily got in my car and rushed home, unable to shake the feeling. After that night, I would continue to get that feeling every time I left my apartment. Then after about a month or so, that's when I would see him. It was like he was taunting me, coming out of the shadows, or sometimes he would sit in his car outside of our apartment."

"Did he ever try anything during that time?"

"Other than the occasional sighting of him while I was in college, he didn't try to approach me. In the years that followed, I've moved on multiple occasions in order to keep him from finding me. Before moving here, I lived in New York for three years. While I was there, I think I moved a total of eight times. During my time there, I didn't even see him once. I thought I was free of him when I moved here. I hadn't even recognized him, so when you told me Jackson Wallace was really Drake Webster, I couldn't believe it. I mean couldn't believe the length he went to in order to change his identity." I admitted. Not really knowing what else to add.

It had been another hour before I was able to finally leave the police station. Detective Lancaster said she would keep in touch if she had any further leads and instructed me to call if I were to think of anything else. By the time I reached my car, I felt tired. I couldn't wait to get home.

The drive home felt like the longest drive I ever took, even though it was only twenty minutes from where I lived. I pulled into my driveway replaying my time spent at the police station. Hoping the detective would be able to find him and soon. I didn't want to have ever go through this again. I hoped this time around would be last time.

It wasn't until I saw a certain special someone sitting on my porch swing that I was able to relax my shoulders. As I got out my car and made my way up my sidewalk, she got up and greeted me at the top of the steps. A loving smile on her face, which quickly turned into one of concern as she seen the mood I was in. At that moment all I wanted to do was be in her arms for the rest of the night.

*****^^^^^*****

JORDAN

I had spent the last hour either pacing back and forth on Sydney's porch or sitting on the swing. No matter what I was doing, I couldn't stop thinking about what Kennedy said before she left, it had my emotions on high alert. Wondering what Sydney was keeping from me. All I could think was the worst. Exactly what, I couldn't even tell you if I tried. I didn't even know where my mind was most of the time.

I just happened to sit down after one of my bouts of pacing when I noticed Sydney's car pull into the driveway. As soon as I seen her, happiness immediately coursed through me. Instantly forgetting every worry I just had. It didn't matter as soon as I seen her. I knew whatever it was that she was keeping from was for a good reason. I'd be a hypocrite if I held anything against her at this point.

Sydney got out of the car and made her way up to me. Reaching the top of the stairs, I know I had just seen her a few hours ago, but that wouldn't stop me from being happy to see her. I had been so caught up in my own happiness to see her that I didn't notice the solemn look that adorned her expression. I had the overwhelming feeling of wanting to hold her.

"Hey there love, is everything alright?" I asked, tilting my head just enough to try to catch her gaze.

"Let's just say, it's been a very long afternoon." She said with an exasperated sigh.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked worriedly. I tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away from me.

"Can this wait for a bit?" Sydney said with a hint of irritation. I wonder if she's been worried about Kennedy.

"Of course." I replied, attempting to keep the mood light.

Sydney unlocked her door, and she stepped inside with me right behind her. "How did everything go with Kennedy?" She inquired as she walked into the kitchen.

With each step we took, I was growing more concerned about Sydney's change of behavior. She's being distant, which really isn't like her. I decided to just let her be and just be here as long as she wanted me here. I watched as Sydney started grabbing items from the refrigerator and placing them on counter next to the stove before I said anything. Still gauging her disposition. "Well, I told her about us and how we met. She was mostly just hurt that I didn't tell her. She felt like I didn't trust her." I said as I took a seat on one of the barstools.

"Yeah, I get why she would think that." She replied as she stopped what she was doing. Straightening out her back in the process. I couldn't see her expression, but I could guess she was thinking of something else. "Did she say anything else?" She asked as she turned to look at me.

"Like what?" I asked feigning confusion.

"Like if she's going to tell anyone about us?" She inquired, although I had an inkling this really wasn't the question she wanted to ask.

"She assured me she wouldn't say anything to anyone." I said trying my best to reassure her. I was confident Kennedy wouldn't say anything. Not even to Cole.

This was too damn important, plus, it's part of our friendship code. Sydney went back what she was doing before, but while we were on the subject of Kennedy, I couldn't help to think about what she said to me earlier. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I had to at least say something. "Speaking of Kennedy, she told me that I should talk to you about something." I threw out there as casually as possible.

Sydney's body stiffened as the words left my lips. "What exactly did she say?" I could hear the apprehension in her voice.

"Nothing. Just that I should talk to you. That's it." I relayed Kennedy's words from earlier.

"Oh, ok." I could hear the relief in her voice. My curiosity even more piqued as I seen her body relax. But I knew better than to push Sydney into telling me something she didn't want to divulge.

At this point, I couldn't hold it back any longer. I quietly got up and walked up behind Sydney. Making sure not to touch her, even though every part of me wanted nothing more than to hold her. I fought the urge. "Sydney?" I questioned, my voice barely an audible whisper. "Sydney. Look at me, please." I gently pleaded.

After a moment of contemplation, she finally turned around and faced me. "I can't help but to feel like something is going on. And I'm not going to force you to talk to me. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't feel comfortable letting me know. Just know that I'm here for you whenever you need to talk. No judgement." I spoke with sincerity. I knew she would tell me in her own time. If there's one thing I learned from the whole ordeal with my mom, it's that patience is a virtue. Albeit, easier said than done.

Sydney's demeanor softened. "It's not that Jordan."

"Well then, what is it?" I tried to hold back my curiosity. I knew I failed miserably.

Sydney looked down, unable to look me in eye. "Kennedy's right. I do need to tell you something." Her voice almost a whisper. "It's not going to easy for me to say it, just like it won't be easy for you to hear it." She admitted this time looking me in the eyes. Letting me know the seriousness of the situation.

"Ok. I'll keep that in mind." I took her hand in mine. A gesture letting her know I was listening, and I was here for her. She let a halfhearted smile grace her lips.

Sydney walked over to one of barstools and sat down. I took a stool opposite her. She took a deep breath, "I think it's best if I start from the beginning."

As I sat there listening to Sydney explain to me what happened between her and Drake, it took everything inside of me not to go and find the fuck tard myself. By the time she got to the part where Drake attempted to rape her, I was indignant. My hands balled into fists, white from the amount of pressure I was applying. Practically shaking from how furious I was.