Cindel: Yes, I’m fine. I’m glad your friends were here.
Another response follows immediately.
It’s Eamon Actually: Garron will be walking you home. No exceptions.
“Ready?” Garron appears at my side, just as I turn the key on the big red door’s lock. He walks me home, actually quiet and reserved for the first time.
When we reach my building, I finally ask, “How long have you known Eamon?”
He moves the signature toothpick side to side in his mouth before answering. “Since we were kids. My mom was a junky back then, so his family kinda took me in. He’s more of a brother to me than anything.”
I couldn’t imagine. That must have been hard. I didn’t have anything else to ask, but I appreciated Garron’s honesty. “I’m glad that you were there tonight. Where’d Dax go?”
He removes the toothpick and swipes his hand in front of his body. “Aaaah… Dax can handle himself, don’t you worry, Princess.” He flicks the toothpick to the ground, with a slight nod downward he wishes me farewell, and continues down the street.
Did I just hear him correctly? Did… he call me, Princess? I don’t even thank him for walking me home. I’m virtually frozen in place as he disappears just past the next cross-street.
As if on cue, the piece of technology comes to life in my ear as I stand on the darkened street, outside my building. A harmonic guitar riff starts and the familiar lyrics fromThe Flys – “Got You Where I Want You,” play into my right ear. I glance up and down both sides of thestreet for anyone possibly watching me, but there’s no one. I rush into the safety of the building, taking two steps at a time, before pushing through my apartment door. It’s vacant, empty… Andrea is most likely still working. I go to the window and glance down at the street one more time. Someone passes beneath the window walking their two dogs, while another hooded figure walks toward them. When the shadowy man passes beneath my window, he stopsand looks up. Their features darkened beneath the hood of the jacket, but I swear I can see an unsettling smile.
My blood runs cold as I force the curtains closed and hurry to my bag to retrieve the phone. The song is over now and I’m left with only the ringing in my ears to keep me company. I open the message thread and quickly write.
Cindel: Where are you?
Do I chance another peek out the window? Instantaneously, a response buzzes through.
It’s Eamon Actually: Tied up at the Club. Did you make it home okay?
I send a thumbs up then switch over to the newest contact in my phone.
Cindel: Where are you?
I type out again.
Dots appear. Disappear. I shake the confounded piece of technology. “Come on!” The message comes through after what feels like forever.
THE STALKER: What’s your favorite song?
It was him.
I slide down the door, sitting right where I land on the entry rug. With my back to the door, I let the words from the song dance through my mind. He literally has me right where he wants. Either Eamon has one fucked up sense of humor, or this is most definitely, two completely different people. I had no intention of telling this psycho my favorite song.
I could barely sleep that night, my mind mulling over the messages, all the songs leading up to this one, and everything else that had been happening lately. My psyche was a storm of chaos with more questions than answers.
When the sun rises the next morning, my window coverings have trouble keeping out the piercing light. I want nothing more than to go back to simpler times. When all I desired was for my parents to take my brother and I to the park. We loved to ride the carousel until we were green in the face. Theo always ran faster, claiming the fiercest animal he could find, either a dragon or tiger. While I enjoyed the stationary creatures like a giraffe or even the small little bench, nestled between the more thrilling choices.
Lately, I feel like I've been on a ride that I can’t get off. No matter how hard I hunt for something that holds still in the circling madness, I’m given no option. Making up my mind, I decide to clip the little belt along my lap and hold on for dear life.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
ANDREA
Once I’m out of our apartment building and on the street, I take a sharp right down the first alley and chuck my smoothie against the brick wall. I scream. I kick the dumpster, and I give two quick jabs to a stacked collection of cardboard boxes. I’m sure someone has heard me, even stopped to watch the crazy girl in the alleyway, but I don’t fucking care. How?! How the fuck has he managed to get his slimy hands on her?! This is my fault. I should have been more thorough. I’ve looked into each job she’s had up until now. They all checked out. Nothing was tied back to them. I could have sworn Connor was the owner of The Black Sheep, but this! “FUCK!” I kick the stack of boxes causing them to finally collapse in on themselves. Should I inform them? No. If I do tell them, I need to know more information first. She’s not just working for a Murray, but now she’s dating the prodigal son! He must know who she is. Cindel should have moved to New York, but I understood why she wanted to stay. For the memories ingrained within the very bricks of this city… so, she would never forget Theo. Cindelthinks that’s why they left. To forget. If she only knew the truth… she’d hate me.
Picking up my bag from the place it fell in the alley; I shove past the collection of people who gathered to watch the short woman in business attire lose her shit on the building’s garbage. I did, in fact, have a meeting this morning, but it wasn’t involving graphic design projects or freelance work. That only takes a couple hours of my time and maybe two designs a month tops. No, the rest of my time is reserved for the primary job. The reason why I’m here.
I make it across town in record time before entering an upscale restaurant on Northern Ave. They weren’t open to the public yet, but I knew my appointment was already waiting for me at a table in the back. I set my bag down, across from the boy in a red hoodie and pants low enough they rested more on his thighs than his waist. Sitting down, I cross my legs to the side and lean onto the small table with my elbows.
