We exchanged nods as they passed.
I should have asked for help, but just as I was about to, I spotted a familiar open sign up ahead. To my relief, it was the coffee shop Nash and I frequented before work, a safe place I could hide out and wait. My stress released a little.
I slipped inside and went to the counter, figuring some caffeine might help buy me some time and verify the situation, not to mention sober me up so I could think more clearly. If the man lingered, then I’d know he was following me.
Why? That was yet to be known.
I tossed my chewed-up lollipop stem in the trash as I selected a booth and sat down. Trying to be subtle, I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was still there. To my dismay, the glowing tip of his cigarette flared in the shadows across the street, a constant presence. I could just make out his stocky figure leaning against a building, just beyond the reach of the streetlight, but definitely still there.
What… the actualfuck.
I took out my phone and texted our driver, Frederick. He’d come get me, and everything would be okay. It was late, and this was New York, but no matter what, he’d always come to my aid.
Though I hated to admit it, situations like this weren’t unusual. They made us city girls tough and alert.
Once the text went through and Frederick confirmed he was coming, I searched my bag, making sure I had the taser Nash got me last October. My fingers closed around the familiar grip. With the click of a button, I checked the battery; it was fully charged.
Thank fuck.
The bell at the counter chimed, signaling that my coffee was ready. I took the opportunity to steal another glance over my shoulder. He hadn’t left. I moved casually to retrieve my blessed caffeine, not wanting to betray my unease. Returning to the booth, I took a slow sip of my coffee and pretended to doomscroll on my phone, though I couldn’t focus on anything.
Frederick arrived a half-hour later.
I was exhausted and yet buzzing with caffeine when I slid into the back of the town car and greeted Fred in the rearview mirror. Through the car windows, I watched the man openly, safe behind the tinted glass where he could no longer see me. He appeared to be watching our car leave, the glow of a phone screen coming to life in his hand. My brows knitted together as the light lit his face, and he typed something. With one last glance in our direction, he faded into the shadows and was gone.
I sat back in my seat with aharrumph.
“Everything okay, Betty?” Frederick asked, eyeing me in the rearview mirror. He was an older man, late fifties, having been with our family as long as I could recall. He was like a second father to me and a constant figure in my life.
“Yeah, just… weird people out tonight.”
He nodded.“Weird people out every night. Don’t ever be afraid to call me, okay? No matter what, I’ll always come, you know that.” It wasn’t the first time creepy men had stared at me. He’d been a super-savior during my teenage years.
“Did you have fun tonight?” I asked, referring to Nash’s wedding.
“Yeah. It was a good time. Great people. Proud of our little Sybil for being brave.”
He’d attended, shuttling guests while also eating and relishing the evening.
I nodded in agreement.“Yeah, she’s getting brave. I’m glad you enjoyed the party.” I gave him a sweet grin.“You didn’t bring a date, though. What happened to Cynthia?”
He chuckled.“Oh, she’s in Florida with her son. Don’t worry, she’s still putting up with my bullshit.”
I laughed.
When he dropped me off, I scanned the sidewalks for any more seedy-looking figures.
Mrs. Cranson was walking her Goldendoodle, an evening ritual, before having her nightcap and sleeping till midday. She was my favorite old bitty on the block, always dressed nicely with a big string of pearls around her neck. I gave her a little wave and went inside where I locked every door, shut off the lights, smothered Mr. Beans with kisses and fell asleep.
Chapter 5
Gray
Breathing steadily, I sucked in air, held it, then released it.
I repeated this three more times before kneeling in the freezing water up to my neck.
With a shudder, I began counting. No matter how many times I did this, the initial shock never waned. By the time I got to ten seconds, I was acclimating, but there were still three more minutes of torture left.
