I choked back my undignified scream before managing a weak smile.
“I don’t normally see you for another few hours,” Scot continued. He never actually introduced himself, so I named him ‘Scot’ due to his Scottish accent. Very original, I know. “You got anything for me?”
His weathered face peeked out from between a threadbare scarf and a wool hat, brows furrowing when he realised I didn’t have his usual hot chocolate.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, fumbling in my pocket for some of the granola bar I’d shoved in there earlier. “Sorry it’s not much. I didn’t have a chance to grab anything from the club.”
Scot had been a reassuring constant on my walk back tothe bus stop every night. He changed spots regularly, mainly because he was chased from whichever doorway he’d chosen to sleep in, but he was always around.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, snatching the bar from my hand before I could even stretch my arm. “That guy bothering you?”
I froze mid-step. “Guy?”
“That one,” he said between bites, gesturing behind me.
Instinct made me turn, my heart thudding as my eyes swept the empty street. But there was nothing but darkness broken by the occasional halo of a streetlight.
“What did he look like?” I asked, panic perforating every one of my cells.
Scot took another bite, chewing it for a few seconds before replying with a scowl. “You got eyes, don’t you?” He shifted in his nest of blankets, leaning to one side to peer around me again, the deep lines in his face pulling taut.
“And you think he was following me?”
“Strange hour to be out, lass.” He shrugged. “You notice things when you don’t got anywhere else to go. But,” he added after a beat, glancing up the road, “since I can’t see him now, maybe he weren’t following you after all.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, giving him a quick wave before continuing toward the bus stop at the end of the road.
It was probably nothing, just Scot’s paranoia rubbing off on me, but I still scanned my surroundings, ensuring there were no shadows moving in the dark. By the time I reached the bus stop, my chest was tight.
This was the first time I’d actively felt afraid. That maybe I hadn’t been as careful as I’d thought. Sitting down on the plastic bench, I forced my breathing to even out, but it didn’t help. The glass walls reflected every twitch of movement behind me, every shape morphing into something that could have been someone.
The hiss of brakes echoed as the bus rolled to a stop in front of me.
I waited a moment too long, the glow of the interior spilling over me as I glanced one more time around. Reassuring myself that everything was okay, and I hadn’t endangered us.
“You getting on or not?” The driver gave me a bored look, fingers drumming the wheel.
“Yeah,” I muttered, stepping inside and handing over some of the money.
The doors closed behind me with a heavy thud, and I dropped into the closest seat.
I would be okay. I could find another job in another town. As long as mum and I were together, we could make it work. We had to; there was no other choice.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I stared down at the phone in my hand. My fingers itched to scroll through the messages, the same ones I read every night like some kind of ritual, or maybe masochistic punishment. But tonight, it may be more out of reassurance.
Which was something I’d never admit out loud.
No one had this mobile number. I bought this phone after a few weeks, nothing more than a basic handset. It was a brand-new number that I immediately made private, bought in a town I’d never visited before. I’d been so careful, and yet after a few days I received my first message.
I never replied, but for some reason I didn’t block him, either.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Leaving without a goodbye? Cold, blondie. Real cold.
Almost as cold as leaving me on read. Rude that.
Have I ever told you you’re so fucking impulsive? If we’d actually sat down and discussed this, like adults, I would have told you running away would be stupid.
