Niami Jakubs didn't mean for her universe to be torn apart that day.
She had only gone out to buy muffins for her mother, otherwise she would have stayed home and in bed. It was a cold day. One of those bone-chillingly cold days. Snow coated the dirty New York streets like frozen mud and the few people who were idiotic enough to walk around had their heads down, bundled up in heavy winter coats. She was one of them. It was only two weeks away from Christmas and there was red and green everywhere you looked.
Niami sighed into her cupped hands, trying to warm them up. Her mittens were wet, so they didn't serve their purpose and her fingertips were red. The air burned her throat as she inhaled.
"Stupid muffins," she muttered to herself. Niami was mad at her mother for making her go out and buy some. So what if her snobby cousins wanted some? Make them go out and get them. But instead, her mom had woken her up, forced her to throw on some clothes, and walk out into the dangerous streets of New York. Alone. And without money for a cab. Of course, Niami did this basically every day, but still. It was snowing for God's sake! Her mother could have at least forked over some cab money if she was going to make her do this.
As she rounded a corner she saw Daily's Bakery across the street and smiled softly to herself. Her cousin, Macy, had asked for blueberry. But Niami liked chocolate chip. She was buying chocolate chip and since Macy was too lazy to go out and get her own damn breakfast then she'd have to deal with it.
She waited until the light turned green and jogged across the icy walkway, slipping as she stepped back onto the sidewalk and beginning to fall back into the lane of traffic. A black stretch limo was headed her way, too fast to stop. I am going to die, she thought curiously. The threat didn't seem real. Niami shut her eyes and sucked in a breath of air, about to scream. But the impact never came. Her heart pounded dangerously in her veins.
She opened her eyes hesitantly and found that a strong, pale hand was wrapped around her waist, steadying her.
Niami looked up, a mixture of anxiety and fear churning in her stomach. She couldn't understand how anyone had managed to catch her that fast. She should have been hit. But as she stared up, her uneasy settled into awe when she saw that it was a young guy, maybe a couple of years older than her. College age. And he was drop dead gorgeous. Long chestnut brown hair that fell messily into his face, sharp, angular features that would make any male model jealous. And his eyes . . . his eyes were a deep green, so dark that they couldn't be real, yet couldn't be contacts either. Complete and total hottie, with just a hint of danger about him.
"Oh. Um. Thank you," she mumbled, feeling her face heat up unrepentantly.
"You should be more careful, Niami. Next time I might not be around," he murmured in a velvet soft voice to her. His face was close to hers and she could feet his warm breath run down her neck. She shivered.
And then he was setting her back on her feet and climbing into the limo that had almost hit her, the engine gunning off as she watched after it in shock.
It was only as she was stepping into Daily's Bakery that she realized he'd said her name. He called me Niami, she thought. There was no way he could have known that.
She stopped dead in her tracks and felt her heart stop completely. Her blood was ice running through her veins.
Oh, my God. How did he know that? How did he know my name? She was panicking.
I know. Maybe he goes to my school or something, a voice in the back of her mind tried to reason with her.
No way. I totally would have remembered him, she argued with herself.
"Ackm. Do you mind moving?" an older man with a head full of balding hair glared down at her. Niami flipped him the bird and walked on, going to the back isle where she knew the muffins would be. She quickly grabbed two boxes of chocolate chip, not really caring anymore about pissing off her cousin. Her mind was busily making up excuses.
Maybe I said it or something when I was about to fall? Or he lives in my apartment building? Yeah, he could totally live in the apartment building.
She wasn't convinced.
It was only as she was checking out that she felt a weird sense of déjà vu. Did she maybe know him? Maybe she had met him before, a long time ago.
Then it all came rushing back to her. She'd seen him at the mall, when she was out Christmas shopping with her mother last weekend. And then again across the street from her building when she got home from school that Tuesday. She shivered again, though not from the cold. Was . . . was he stalking her? Did she have a stalker?
She shuddered at the thought, then turned away from the cashier and ran home. She didn't feel safe out here anymore.
* * *
When Niami walked into her apartment she knew something was wrong. Immediately. There were no sounds of the TV, no voices murmuring to one another. The washer wasn't running, her dogs not barking. It was completely silent.
"Mom?" she called, swallowing slowly. The lump that had began to form since her near-death experience throbbed dangerously. Why was it so quiet?
No one answered her. The house was empty. Dead.
"Mom? Macy? Mike?" she tried again. Her mother, cousin, nor brother answered. She was alone, it seemed.
The dumped her bag on the kitchen counter, shrugging off her father's oldest and heaviest ski jacket that she had borrowed. Still no noise from elsewhere in the house.
She walked hesitantly down the hall, stepping carefully on the worn wooden floors. And then she saw it.
Blood.