Midnight Caller Read Free Page B

shoulder.” Trevor knew what the symbol was, a cross topped by an oval loop, an Egyptian symbol for eternal life popular within the goth subculture.
    â€œWell, that sounds pretty tame. What does your mom think?”
    â€œShe doesn’t care about me or what I do.”
    There was a lull in the conversation, as if the woman was actually considering the caller’s dilemma. Of course, she was too young to have a tattoo, Trevor thought, ignoring the sweat that stung his eyes. Why doesn’t the woman just tell her that? People on the street looked like blurred watercolor images as he ran past.
    â€œHere’s what you could do. You could get one anyway, without your stepfather’s permission.”
    Great idea. Trevor shook his head, sprinting in front ofa horse-drawn carriage carrying a group of cup-sloshing revelers.
    â€œBut if you do,” the woman continued, “you’re going to deal with some major grief when he finds out.”
    â€œTell me about it.” He could almost hear the teen rolling her eyes.
    â€œThere’s one thing I want to mention. You said your mom doesn’t care about you. I have no idea if that’s really the case, but maybe your stepfather is saying no because he doesn’t want you to do something you’d regret later in life. Tattoos are permanent, and he wants to be sure you’re ready for a commitment like that. Misguided or not, it sounds like he cares.”
    The girl was quiet for a moment. “Maybe.”
    â€œTake my advice, Shayla. Take the money you’d spend on a tattoo and get an ankh pendant, an expensive one. Consider it a wardrobe investment. Wear it, and when you’re eighteen, if you still want the tattoo, go for it.”
    The call ended, and the woman said, “You’re listening to Midnight Confessions with Dr. Rain Sommers on WNOR, New Orleans’s alternative radio.”
    The station switched to a jingle for low-carb beer. With a sickening jolt, Trevor became aware of where his subconscious had guided him. Dauphine Street. Mallory’s was only a short distance away, where his father was either pouring liquor behind the bar or drinking away his paycheck on the other side of it. He stopped running, bending at the waist with his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. He closed his eyes, his indecision frustrating him, but the magnetic pull of the bar finally won out.
    I won’t go in, he vowed. All he needed was to see the bastard through the window and confirm for himself that God in all his injustice hadn’t yet seen fit to strike him down. Thetalk-show host returned to the air as Trevor wiped his face with the damp cotton of his T-shirt and set back out.
    â€œOur next caller is Daniel from the French Quarter. What do you want to talk about tonight, Daniel?”
    â€œI want to talk about you, Rain. About your legacy.”
    There was a moment of dead air. “Sorry. We don’t talk about me, that’s one of the rules. Do you have a problem I can help with tonight?”
    â€œYou’re my problem, Rain. I can’t get you out of my mind.”
    â€œThat sounds like a pick-up line. A clichéd one.”
    Just as the woman’s voice was sultry, the caller’s was deep and hypnotic. Trevor forced his muscles to work harder. The street seemed to be giving off waves of heat, the air around him heavy, and any hint of a breeze had disappeared.
    â€œIt’s true, Rain. I’ve become quite interested in you.”
    â€œMy star must be rising. I have my first bona fide stalker.” Her tone was edged with sarcasm. “Look, Daniel. We’re busy people around here, so worship me on your own time. Now, do you have something to talk about or not?”
    When the caller merely laughed, she added, “So, how old are you, Dan? You sound a little more mature than our regular callers.”
    â€œYou could say I’m a little older.”
    â€œHow