Please Don't Go (The Midnight Strike, #1)

by E. Salvador

To anyone who’s ever felt they didn’t deserve to be seen. I see you. I’m so happy you are here!

“I will miss you,” he says after a moment of silence. The words roll off his tongue casually, as if we’re friends.

“Don’t say that. You don’t know me.” I stare straight ahead, still keeping distance between us. I don’t know why I’m entertaining this conversation when I’m still going to go through with it. I have no desire or will to live and I’m okay with going out this way. “My name is Daniel Garcia, but my friends call me Danny.” His words are soft, but friendly, laid-back almost as if he were talking to a friend. “And now you’re my friend, so call me Danny.”

“I’m not your friend,” I immediately retort. “I’ve made up my mind. Go away.” “I will, if you go with me.”

I mean nothing to you. So do us both a favor and get the fuck away from here before you slip and fall.” He chuckles; it’s low but hearty, easygoing. “I mean nothing to you, but you’re concerned about my safety?”

“We may not know each other, but I will miss you, and I won’t forget you,” Daniel adds.

“You can’t miss someone you don’t know,” I angrily snap. “Then let me know you,” he counters determinedly. “I want to know you.”

Hauling and holding me back. Grounding me. Saving me. Protecting me. “Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go…” Daniel chants under his breath over and over again. “Please don’t go.”

I let her sadness encase us because it’s the only thing I know I can do. The only way to let her know she’s not alone. “I couldn’t let you go.” I attempt to swallow past the thick lump in my throat, rubbing small circles on her back.

“Tell me your name.” It slips out of my mouth before I can put too much thought into it. She doesn’t immediately reply and as the seconds stretch with heavy silence, I try to think of something else to ask, but all I’m hyper fixating on is her name. “Josefine.” “Josefine.” I mirror her position, lying on my side. “I’m here for you, Josefine.” “You don’t know me.” A tinge of annoyance coats her words. “Let me get to know you,” I desperately goad. “There’s nothing to know.” “There’s always something to know.”

Didn’t mean for you to witness that. I promise I didn’t jump. I don’t know how many times I reread it, and even though I believe she didn’t, my chest still feels heavy, and a sense of sadness washes over me. Why didn’t I ask her for her last name? Why didn’t I give her my number? Out of all the questions I could’ve asked, I asked for her favorite color. Way to go, dumbass.

“Sorry. I never introduced myself.” The headlights from her car illuminates her face, showing off a friendly dimpled smile and straight long hair. “My name’s Penelope, but some people call me Pen. You can call me whichever, I really don’t care. But please don’t call me Penny.”

She stops halfway, when a light gray Acura pulls up in front of my car. “That’s him. I promise he’ll have your tire changed in no time. He’s good at this kind of stuff.” “Not just good, but the best,” I hear an arrogant voice say from behind me. I tense, the hairs on the back of my neck raising. A shudder races down my body at the familiar voice. The very same one that pleaded and begged me to stay a few days ago. She rolls her eyes at her brother, Daniel.

“Angel, the year just started. I thought your New Year’s resolution was to be less annoying?” “Must be confusing yours with mine.” Angel smirks, winking at her.

“Can you distract Pen for me? I need to talk to Josefine alone.” He scrunches his nose, the staring at her like she’s already inconveniencing him. “Fine but I can’t promise there won’t be any arguing.”

“Your favorite color is yellow, but you don’t like neon yellow.” Aside from the slight twitch of her brow, I see nothing. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she hollowly whispers. “That means everything,” I say, filling that empty space.

I reread the phone number on the Post-it note that was left on my front door. Though I don’t need to keep looking at it because after four days, I’ve memorized it.

“This is our third encounter. Shouldn’t we be past the formal interaction, Jos?” Something weird happens in my stomach, but I ignore it. I must’ve had a bad omelet. “How is that formal? I was just saying your name.” “Can I take a seat?” It’s not like I can say no. It’s the only one available. “Unless you want to sit on the floor.”

“I’m so happy you’re here, Josefine.” My brows knit. “Why do you keep saying that?” “Because I am.” He sounds so earnest, the words feel warm, like sitting in front of a fireplace, wrapped in a thick blanket.

“Yeah, all superheroes have one. We’ll need secret identities too. I’m no Clark Kent, but I can pull the hell out of some glasses.” I peek up then look back at my screen but do a double take on her face. I swear I just saw her lips crack a smidge. Did she smile? Holy shit, did I just make Josefine smile?

“Are you flirting with me?” I arch a brow, doing everything in my power not to look smug as fuck when the faintest coat of red appears on the apples of her cheeks. “That’s not flirting,” she quickly fires back, the red slipping away as if it were never there. “Kind of sounded like it.” She shoots me a vexed expression. “I was just making a statement. If I was flirting with you, which I’m not, you would know.”

Propping my elbow on the table, I rest my chin on the heel of my palm, flashing her a coy smile. “Then you’re going to have to show me what you consider flirting because I still believe you were.”

“Everyone wants to be my friend,” I retort with a grin. When her eyes cast to it, she glowers, but then her face becomes blank. “They must feel bad for you.” “So, feel bad for me and be my friend.” “You’re annoying.”

“You’re weird.” She aggravatedly punches the keys, typing a few very basic questions. “And you’re no fun. Are you minoring in anything?” I read off her question from the screen. “I’m not, but you can ask me anything; I’m an open book. For now, you’re going to have to wait your turn because it’s mine. If you could watch any show for the rest of your life, which would it be?” “I don’t watch TV.” “You’re lying.”

“I want to meet the person who over inflated your ego. I need a word or two with them.” And I want to meet the person who fucked her over. I’ll have more than words with them. I chuckle at her grimace. “My mom, but can you blame her? Just look at me.” I wave a hand down the side of my face. “I’m devastatingly good looking.” “Mmm…devastatingly annoying.” “Your denial is showing.” “I never said you weren’t good looking. I just said…fuck. I’m done talking to you.” She furiously moves her fingers along the keys, typing a bullshit-ass response. “I think we’ve broken the ice.”

I smirk, feeling smug. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.” “Daniel,” “Yes, Jos?” “Shut up.” She side-eyes me, her face tinged with frustration. I bite back a laugh, lips twitching as I fight them from parting. “Okay, but I need to ask one more thing.” “What?” “Did you see my Post-it?” I knew there would be a big possibility she’d throw it away, but I wanted her to know she has someone she can talk to. She falters as she closes her laptop. “Yeah, I saw it.” “Anytime, don’t hesitate. I’m here for you.”

As she throws it over her shoulder, she goes to walk away but then spins and stands in front of me. “Miss me already?”

She huffs out a quiet puff of air, like she’s uncertain about what she’s going to say. “What’s your favorite color?” My smile slips and my heart oddly races. “Green.” “Okay.” She walks away and I’m left staring at the spot she was at with my heart racing abnormally fast.

“I’m just saying tater tots are way better than hash browns,” Grayson states matter-of-factly as we enter S.S. dining hall.

“Because Josefine is Bryson’s ex,” Gray supplies like it’s something I should know. That shocks me and I realize now why they were staring at me skeptically and bemused. Bryson isn’t only my teammate, but the guy Amanda cheated on me with. It feels like I’ve solved a puzzle I wasn’t aware I was piecing together.

“You never came up with your superhero name or secret identity.” I gasp, head snapping up to my right at the idiot next to me. Daniel leisurely walks next to me, the same smile from earlier still displayed on his face. He’s wearing a hat, but it’s not backwards this time, and annoyingly, it looks good. And right as I turn, I catch gold from the corner of my eye and realize he’s wearing a chain with a safety pin on it. “We need names and secret identities, Jos.” “Have you been behind me all this time?” “No, but I caught up to you. You’re kind of a slow walker,” he says, amused. I scoff. “I’m not a slow walker.”

Don’t laugh but I don’t know how to swim. I hear you’re the person who makes it possible. How’d you like to make that possible for me? I’m so happy you’re here, Josefine! And I mean that.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just want you to know I have no part in whatever that piece of shit has done or said. But if he or any of this friends try that again let me know and I’ll⁠—” She folds her arms defensively. “I’m not helpless. I don’t need your help.” “I never said you were, but you don’t have to handle it alone. And I want you to know, I’m not pretending to care or doing this out of obligation. I want you to know that I’m here for you.” I smile at her.

“You’re so fucking…” “I’m so fucking what?” My lips tempt to curl upward. “Fucking frustrating. You and your goddamn insistence.” She quietly groans.

I mask the shock at her question. “I really don’t know how.” “I don’t work with adults or men because I teach the lessons at my house.” Thank God. I didn’t want to go through with this. “I get it. You really don’t⁠—” “If you pull anything weird, I’ll break your arm. And don’t test me, Garcia, because I will,” she threatens.

“I’ll just be wasting your time. I don’t think I’ll learn and⁠—” She raises her hand for me to stop talking when she pulls her phone out of her black belt bag. She types something and then I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my shorts. “I texted you my address.”

She’s complex in her own way, but that doesn’t make her any less deserving. She doesn’t smile, but that doesn’t mean she never has. Her eyes don’t spark with life, but I’m sure they once did. Maybe she thinks she’s broken and not worth fixing, or maybe I’m just projecting because that’s how I feel. Broken…lost…empty.

“You’re quiet.” Her soft voice pulls me out of my head, shocking me. I let the smile easily slip on my face. “Miss my voice already?” The light behind me helps cast a glow around her face and body, allowing me to see the tiny furrow of her brows. “No, you’re just…unnaturally quiet. That normally doesn’t happen.” “Aren’t you observant,” I tease or at least I attempt to, but I think I do a shit job because her brows soften like she’s figured something out, but then her face becomes impassive.

“You know.” I drop down, sitting next to her. “You really have to stop trying to push me away. The harder the push, the more you make me want to stay.” “In that case, please stay. I could really use the company,” she sarcastically says, but I don’t miss the smidge of sadness that tones her words. “See, I thought you’d never ask.” I happily say.

“Give me until the end of the semester.” She looks up at me, cocking her head to the side, staring at me, confused. “What?” “Give me until the end of the semester to help you fill that emptiness. If it doesn’t work, I’ll leave you alone if you want to be alone that badly, but until then, let me help you.”

She laughs humorlessly. “You don’t know how to give up, do you?” “What can I say? My middle name is Jesus.” I chuckle, hoping it masks the hollowness behind it. “Let me try.” “You’ll regret it,” she announces, already defeated. Did she somehow get closer, or did I? I only scooted an inch, or was it more? Why am I even focusing on that? “That’s not going to happen. I promise.” And I mean that. “We’ll see…” I don’t know who gave up on her, but I know I won’t.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves.” “Was I not already?” He lets go of my wrist and snakes the other behind my back.

“Let me take you home.” “I came with Pen and Vi.” “They get nicknames, but I don’t?” he asks jokingly. “They kind of insisted.” I nonchalantly shrug. “So did I,” he counters.

“You drove all the way over here to bring me that? How do you even know it’s mine? The girl who had her arm around you had some on too.” I stare at him, irked and bemused. “I didn’t drive, I, uh, ran here.” He scratches the nape of his neck.

“So, we need to have alibis and shovels, and we need to make it quick. Also, we need to keep the blood to a minimum because you know that’s hard to get rid of, or at least it’s what I’ve seen in the shows.” I halt in my tracks and spin around. He almost crashes into me, but he manages to stop in time. “What are you talking about?” “Are we not murdering Bryson?” he asks casually, but I hear the hint of amusement and confusion in his voice. I cock a brow. “We?” “I got your back, Jos,” he states, no amusement or confusion in his voice this time.

“I don’t want to kill him. I’m going to slash his tires. It won’t hurt him physically, but it’ll hurt nonetheless. And that’s good enough for me. I’m sure you know how much he loves his Audi.” Aside from how much Bryson loves himself, that car comes in second. He nods, grinning. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

“I’m still a little drunk if I’m being honest with you. I’m not sure I’d do this sober and I might regret it in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck, so why should I?” I lift both shoulders apathetically as I start walking backward. “I’m going with you,” he adamantly states. “Uh, no, you’re not.” “Uh, yes, I am.” “Daniel.” “Josefine.” I drop my head back, groaning. “No. The last thing I need is for you to get in trouble. It’ll be quick anyway.” His grin broadens. “You care about me?”

Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. “Okay, well, I’ll see you⁠—” “I’m going with you. This isn’t up for debate. Plus you said you’re still kind of drunk. I’ll drive. I burned off all the alcohol on the run anyway.” “Daniel.” I suck in a breath. “I don’t need you to come⁠—” “Do I need to speak in Spanish to you to get you to understand?”

“Well?” I impatiently tap my foot. He takes one step forward. “Voy a ir contigo, aunque quieras o no. Y no discutas conmigo porque está conversión ya ha terminado. Sí me entendiste esta vez?” Wow. “¿Estás seguro?” “Contigo, siempre.”

“Because…” His smile turns devilish. “We’re going to slash the last tire with the box cutter and leave it there. So when he calls the insurance, they’ll think he did it himself. It might or might not be considered insurance fraud. I guess we’ll find out…” “How do you know that?” “Angel happens to be a little petty.” “A little?” He shrugs innocently. “Don’t ask questions. Just go get it.”