The Loki Equation - Part 9

Ahhh.

There was something magical about rainy Saturday afternoons. Nowhere to be, nothing to do, no agenda to keep. Just me, my laptop, a cup of tea, and my fanfiction. Oh yeah. And Mary. She was there too.

We were camped out in our living room, piled under blankets and propped up on pillows. Food Network was on tv, providing us with some nice background noises and really yummy visuals of fried food that we weren't allowed to eat because…diets and stuff. The wind whipped rain against the window. We were in hibernation mode.

"So how's the story coming?" Mary asked me, taking a sip of her cocoa.

"Weeelllll...it's coming"

"What the heck does that mean?"

"It's not too bad, I guess. I got a really good bookstore scene in the latest one. I'm giving up on major plot development for today, and instead I'm trying to decide if I should put him in a nice suit or maybe some dark jeans and a button down."

"A suit is lingerie for men"

"A truer statement has never been made. See, this is why you're my other half"

Mary laughed and went back to her computer. "I know, dude."

I was actually so proud of myself. I had a great rough story outline going, and it was not half bad, in my own humble opinion. This was the first time in a long time that I had gotten so far in one story. Without giving up and scrapping the whole project, anyway.

There was one person I could thank for that. Since our little adventure, the God of Random Appearances was all I could think about. He was influencing my writing in amazing ways, and everything was coming together so smoothly, as if by Loki's magic itself.

I started flipping through Google pictures of nice suits, and Mary was flipping the channels on the TV, I guess looking for the weather. She happened to click through the local news, right as I happened to glance at it.

"Hey...woah hey go back for a second" I said, sitting up.

She clicked back a few channels.

And my world froze for a second at what I saw on that screen.

"Local Business Owner Found Dead"

And guess whose picture was right underneath that glaring tagline?

Tubby bookstore guy.

No no no no no.

This wasn't right.

My vision went blurry. Horrible, nauseating thoughts all rushed at me like a runaway truck. So terrible and frightening that I almost threw up.

I kicked my blankets to the floor and bolted for the door.

"Rachael, what the fuck are you doing?"

I heard her voice, but it was a billion miles away.

The door slammed shut behind me and I almost took a faceplant down the stairs, I was running so fast. They were slippery.

So was the pavement. I wasn't wearing shoes, and my bare feet and the bottoms of my comfy pants were soaked in a second. Didn't matter.

That spot. That goddamn spot where I fell in a mudpuddle and hurt my ankle. Where I fell asleep under the tree and was saved from the rain by my imagination come true. The person that I practically worshipped and wrote about and sketched and dreamed about and drew inspiration from.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

Yeah. I was screaming up into the sky. Getting soaking wet. Didn't care.

"YOU FOLLOW ME AROUND LIKE A STALKER YOU CREEP. SO STALK ME NOW!"

"YOU TRICKED ME. I TRUSTED YOU AND WENT ALONG WITH YOU AND YOU WERE PLANNING A MURDER THE WHOLE TIME! YOU DRAGGED ME INTO THIS AND I WILL BE DAMNED IF YOU PLAY ME LIKE THIS AGAIN!"

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing there was no one outside in this weather. My neighbors would have called the cops.

The anger and the hurt and the complete and utter fear drove me to my knees. Go figure, right into a mud puddle. Well looky there. Things really do come full circle.

I was crying. Because of me, some gross alcoholic bookstore owner was dead. I had led an unstable not-human psychopath straight to him. All over some stupid book that wasn't even there. That bastard had used me AND the bookstore guy. One of us had already been disposed of. Looks like I was a loose end too. How long did I have left?

Too bad this mud puddle couldn't swallow me. Or at least have the decency to drown me.

I don't know how long I kneeled in that mudpuddle. It probably wasn't more than a few minutes, but it felt like enough lifetimes to qualify me for my own show on BBC. The freezing layer of rain wasn't just sticking to my skin, but to my core.

And then a boot stepped into what little line of vision I had through my soaked hair.

And then a pair of long legs, bending at the knees to be level with me and my puddle.

And then a torso getting rapidly as wet as I was, after shedding a coat that was being wrapped around my own shoulders.

And then green eyes.

I shut mine.

It wasn't even worth struggling when he picked me up. If this is how I was gonna die, then fine. At least I got to touch the coat again before I met my maker.

"Put me down you asshole"

"Nice to see you too, darling"

"Put me back in my puddle"

"No"

When I opened my eyes, we were settled underneath the tree again. I was in his lap, wrapped in that amazing coat. He was giving me a look that partly suggested that he was afraid I had rabies. But when I struggled to get off, he just squeezed me a little tighter.

"Let go!"

"First you were screaming into the clouds for me, and now you would like me to release you? Make up your mind, dear girl, this is getting confusing even for me"

I looked him dead in the eyes. I wanted to see his face.

"I saw the news story. That guy from the bookstore. He's DEAD. Do you know what that fucking means? That means that you went back after I left and MURDERED SOMEONE"

I tried to twist out of his lap again, but he had one arm wrapped around my shoulders, and the other hand took a firm hold under my chin and made me look into his eyes again.

"Is that what you believe?" he asked.

Dammit, was that hurt that I saw? That I heard in his stupid voice?

"Oh, no, go ahead God of Lies. You're a murderer and a stranger and look at what you've gotten me into!" I bit the words off. If I could, I would have spat them at him.

He just looked at me. He had almost no expression on his face, either. Just a slight turn down at the corners of his mouth, and a line in-between his eyebrows.

"SAY SOMETHING!" I thrashed again, and he just held my gaze and my shoulders, not letting go.

His thumb wiped away water from my cheek. I couldn't tell if it was rain or a tear. I don't know if he could tell either.

When he finally spoke, he didn't break his gaze.

"No one has been murdered by my hand. Not here"

"You're a LIAR!"

"Close your mouth for one moment and listen to me!" he snapped, shaking me a little.

"I went back to the shop the day after you and I went together. That is true, and I was not going to hide that from you. But the door was ajar and the man was dead on the floor when I arrived."

His eyes flicked back and forth between mine. Almost frantic and desperate.

"You need to trust me. This situation is more grave than even I could have expected. And it has gone from bad to worse. Someone knows that you and I visited the shop, darling, can you not see that? That horrid man was silenced." His head shook back and forth a little. "The person who has that book does not want me to find them. And now I have put you in harms way as well"

This...this was too much for me to handle. I was one person. An insignificant person who just ate and slept and worked and doodled. This was a movie plotline, not a real life situation that I was expected to handle!

They didn't teach me to deal with these kinds of things in college….

"Why me? Why did you drag me into this?"

"I never intended to. You were an interest. A source of entertainment. But I got attached and now...this. I should not have asked for your help, but it is too late now."

Unreal. I felt like I was floating above my own body, watching this insanity unfold. It was like a really badly written romance/murder novel. Except I was the tragic heroine. Or maybe Loki was. Who the hell knows.

"And how am I supposed to trust you to tell me the truth?"

"You are going to have to trust your own instincts, love. But I give you my solemn word that I am not deceiving you"

I know that this sounds like the dumbest thing ever, but I honestly believed him. The logical half of my brain was crying and screaming and throwing itself against walls yelling 'No! No! Bad idea!', but the other half, the tiny little gut feeling that I almost always ignored was saying 'It's all gonna be okay'. Dammit. I believed him.

It looks like I was being sucked into this story. This adventure that I never signed up for. In all of my 22 years I had never done anything reckless or risky.

Maybe it was time to change that.

"I do not know what lies ahead. But some assistance would be more than welcome" he said, very quietly.

"I don't have a choice, do I? I'm stuck with you" I answered, and managed what I assume a really pathetic attempt at a smile.

He laughed a tiny bit.

"Perhaps your story will write itself along the way" he said, standing up himself and setting me back on my feet.

"Now let us return you to your home before your friend comes looking for you"

"You owe me a drink first"

-To be Continued-