Gypsy had made a fool out of me for the last time.
It wouldn't happen again.
15
Gypsy
“These were on your doorstep.”
I turned with my hair still dripping water from the shower into my eyes at Bobby's voice. He stood in my kitchen doorway, a half quizzical, half knowing expression on his face.
His hands were full of flowers - sunflowers to be exact - one hand full of the stems, the other clutching their decapitated heads.
Petals fell on the floor and with them so did any hope that I was free of the nightmare that had been following me for the last five years. It all came rushing back and with it - bile. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I ran before I upended my breakfast over the floor. Pushing past Bobby with my shoulder, I made it to the bathroom just in time, falling to my knees with such force that I knew it would leave bruises.
I threw up until there was nothing left in my stomach.
“Gypsy?” Bobby called from the other side of the hastily shut door. He sounded worried. I groaned, leaning back against the sink, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I'm ok, don't come in here.” Shakily, I climbed to my feet. And for a second I could do nothing but stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I looked like hell. Like a woman who had been hunted for years and was nearing her end. Which of course was exactly what I was.
I always knew it was a possibility that he would find me, again. Hell, he always seemed to find me. It didn't matter whether it took him a year or a month, he always got in touch, and it always started with flowers.
Sunflowers were new though; usually it was red roses, the flowers he used to buy for me, the ones I hated. I’d hated them back then, and I hated them even more now.
It had been wishful thinking to think this time would be any different, but it did beg the question as to how he had found me. I had been extra careful this time.
No one but my father knew where I was and what name I was using, and all correspondence between us was routed through his private company email. Even if someone read them, they wouldn’t know it was from me.
And yet someone had found out.
I could feel it all slipping away - all my hopes and dreams of a new quieter life, a life where I could be free of the nightmare, like water through my fingers.
It was happening again.
And this time I had nowhere else to run. If he could find me there then he could find me anywhere.
I sobbed before I could stop myself, breaking down completely on the bathroom floor. Great gut-wrenching sobs wracked my body as I shook with the power of my despair.
I had nowhere else to go. No one else to become.
He had found me again. He would always find me.
“Gypsy?” Bobby called again. “I'm coming in.” The worry that had been in his voice had morphed into something new. The door slammed open, and still I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything but look at his frame in the doorway, his face creased with concern. And I knew what he saw. How pathetic I must look.
“Jesus, what's wrong?”
I couldn't answer him. Once I had started crying, I couldn't stop.
Bobby bundled me into his arms. “Woman, nothing can be as bad as you think it is, nothing…”
I hiccupped into his chest, not caring that I was getting tears and snot all over his shirt. If only he knew the truth. If he had, he wouldn't have told me things weren't that bad.
“He's going to kill me... He’s…” I wanted so desperately to tell someone, to unburden myself for the first time in years.
“No one is going to kill you Gypsy. The Sons will protect you. Fang will. And you have me as well, for all the good that will do you.”
