No answer.
My roommate should have been home. This morning, her plans included dropping her five-year-old son, Trent, off at school and spending her morning off cleaning and doing laundry. Our apartment wasn’t messy by any means, but she was a neat freak. I watched Trent in the evenings for free, and she showed her gratitude by deep cleaning our space with the enthusiasm and precision of a germaphobe jacked up on energy drinks and cocaine. By now, she should be wiping down the ceilings, bleaching the bathrooms, or something equally unnecessary but welcome.
Irritated by her unfortunate absence when I needed her steadfast solidarity, I stepped into the kitchen and froze in my tracks to take in the scene. A half-eaten kid-sized bowl of soggy Rice Krispies sat on the table, guarded by an arc of plastic Army men.
Some kids had security blankets. Trent had Army men. Whenever he was frightened, he lined them up to form a defensive wall around him and those he cared about. Cereal was his meal of choice, and he’d eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if allowed. He’d never willingly let that crispy goodness get soggy. Even if he did, Carly would die before she left a wasteful mess like this.
Something was very wrong.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “Carly?” I shouted again, rushing down the hall to check her bedroom. The place had been ransacked. Empty dresser drawers hung open, the closet was bare, and the suitcases she and Trent kept stuffed under the bed were gone.
Did she run?
We had originally connected about six months ago when she answered a roommate wanted ad I’d listed online. She was moving to Seattle from some town I’d never heard of in Idaho and was already in Spokane. I wasn’t sold on renting to a single mom and her child, but agreed to meet with her when they arrived. She called me a day later. Her Honda Civic petered out on the freeway, leaving them stranded just inside Seattle’s city limits. They had nobody and nowhere to go, so I picked them up and the three of us went for pizza. Trent was both hysterically funny and adorably sweet, and Carly had a determination and inner strength that I couldn’t help but admire. The three of us hit it off instantly, and I let them move right in. I’d never once regretted the decision.
They didn’t come without their problems. Carly was closed-lipped about her past. Trent often woke crying from nightmares about a ‘bad man’ who wanted to hurt them. Regardless, the pair were thriving here, and I couldn’t see them just up and leaving without so much as a goodbye. I dug my phone out of my purse and called her.
“Hey Jess, how’s work?” Carly sounded stressed, but that was pretty much her norm. Being a single mom and working two jobs to survive was no joke.
Relieved to hear her voice, I let out a breath. “Work is… ugh. We’ll talk about that later. What’s going on with you? It looks like you left in a hurry. There’s a bowl of cereal on the table, and your room is all torn up. Did you take off?”
“Oh yeah, I was gonna message you. I didn’t expect you to come home for lunch. Sorry, that must have looked bad. We’re totally fine, though. Wasp came and picked us up and we’re gonna stay with him for a few days.”
Wasp was her ultra-buff, super-hot boyfriend. He belonged to the motorcycle club that owned the Copper Penny, the bar Carly tended in the evenings. He was good for her, and great for her son, but I was still confused about her sudden absence. “You were going to send me a message? Are you moving in with him? What is going on? I come home for lunch, after a craptacularly bad morning, and the house is blown up, you’re gone, and…”
“Yeah, Jess. I hate to cut you off, but I need you to lock the door.” Carly snapped. She sounded frantic, her words were clipped and hurried. “Stay in the apartment.”
“What? Why? I can’t stay in the apartment. I have to get back to work.” Still, spurred to action by the seriousness of her tone, I hurried to the door and did as she said, looking through the peep hole. The hallway was empty, and this felt a whole lot like overreacting.
“There’s a guy chasing me, and Wasp is afraid you’re in danger.”
“What guy? Crap, I knew you were running from something. Are you sure you’re okay?” My nerves ramped up to prepare for a five-alarm fire. “Carly?”
I could hear Wasp talking to her in the background. The phone muffled for a moment and then she was back.
“You know that bouncer I work with? Spade?” Carly asked.
The name rang a bell. “One of the guys who volunteers at Trent’s school?”
“Yes. He’s on his way to the apartment. Wasp and Havoc will be there soon as well. Just hang tight until they get there.”
“Okay.” I pushed off the door and went to the kitchen to get a drink. “But why am I holed up in my apartment? Start talking, lady.”
“There’s this guy from my hometown—Nate—he’s… batshit crazy. I never told you about him, because I was hoping to leave it all in the past.”
“Is he the ‘bad man’ Trent’s scared of?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, Jess. I didn’t think he’d find me here, but apparently, he’s been following us. He left a note in Trent’s bag, and when I found it, I panicked. I didn’t even think about you being in danger. I had to get Trent to safety.”
I couldn’t fault her for her actions. Trent would have been my priority, too. “But you guys are okay? You’re safe now?”
“Yes. We’re at the Dead Presidents’ clubhouse. It’s you I’m worried about. You shouldn’t be in that apartment. I should have called and warned you. I should have… Shit. I’m so sorry, Jess. You’ve been nothing but amazing to me and Trent, and I never meant to put you in danger.”
She was all over the place. “Carly, calm down. I’m fine. I’m in the apartment, the door’s locked, and your rescue team is on the way. Now, start from the beginning. What’s going on? Who is this crazy Nate guy?”
Before she could respond, my apartment door came crashing in. Fake wood splintered and the door bounced off the wall, half off its hinges, as a man wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt and faded jeans barreled into my apartment. His dark hair was buzzed, and his brown eyes were wild as his gaze darted around my apartment before settling on me.
“Where the fuck is Carly?” he roared.
