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I know some influential people, people that are all about appearances, shallow empty individuals that say one thing and do another. I realized when this started happening that I had become one of those people, I had become cold and shallow, living from day to day without worrying about others. I shake my head when I think of how absolutely disappointed my parents would be if they know how I have turned out.
For the last seven years that I hardly see them except on holidays, I phone them, and they will phone me, but I have always been too busy to visit and stay for a while. Now that I am isolated from most people and from the life I was living, I feel the absence of my parents. I feel the absence of the love they have always given me. Most days I feel lonely, the friends I used to have were all work colleagues, fellow models always too busy to care about what is happening in others’ lives.
I’m about to take a seat when I hear what sounds like someone by the front door. My heart starts to race in fear. Did the stalker get up the courage to finally face me? In a way, I’m hoping the person would as I’m getting tired of being afraid, but in another I’m paralyzed with fear, fear that whoever it is has tired of playing their morbid game and will now want to kill me.
There is a loud knock on the door, I don’t know anyone in town, there is no reason for anyone to knock on my door. “Who is it?” I call as I dig into my bag, pulling out the pepper spray.
“I heard what you said at the police station, I’m here to help you,” the deep baritone calls through the door, his soft voice soothing, calming somehow.
“Who are you?” I ask as I approach the door.
“My name is Dash and I specialize in finding criminals.” I’m undecided, should I trust this person, what if he’s the stalker?
“How do I know what you say is the truth?” there is a long pause, I frown. Did he leave? Maybe he was my only option, and I just scared him away.
“Because I could have done this from the beginning, and I didn’t.” I scream in fright as I snap around to see a man with longish straight black hair, eyes as green as a cat and tattoos covering his arms that tell me he’s a badass. He looks like a biker.
“What are you doing in my house?” My heart is racing as I walk backwards until my back hits the door, my hand lowers towards the doorjamb.
“Don’t be scared,” he says as he raises his hands in the air. “I simply wanted to show you that I’m here to help you, you wanted proof and I’m giving you proof.”
“Why do you want to help me?” The man steps back, looking around he walks towards the couch and takes a seat. This man could be a model in his own right.
“As I said my speciality is catching criminals, if what you said is true you have a problem.” I take a step towards him and then stop.
“Dash?” He nods. “Dash, no one believes me why would you?” He shrugs as he looks around, his eyes taking everything in.
“You are beautiful, you are clearly scared, and I’m bored.” He thinks that I’m beautiful?
“How much will you charge me?” If he can get rid of this threat, I would happily pay him whatever he asks me.
“Why don’t you come and sit down and tell me all about it.” I shouldn’t be doing this I don’t know this man from anywhere. His relaxed stance giving me comfort, “you won’t need that,” he says as he inclines his head towards my hand and the pepper spray.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll hold on to this.” I don’t know what it is about this man, but even though he looks dangerous, he gives me a sense of security, something that I’m in need of. Taking the seat further away from him I sit on the brim of the couch, I have a feeling that even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to get away from this man if he didn’t want me to.
“Relax, trust me.” I don’t know why I want to trust this man, but for some reason he comforts me.
“Okay,” I say, “how are you going to help me?”
“I’m going to find who is scaring you, and I’m going to stop him.” There is a slight growl in his voice when he says that. “What’s your name?” he asks.
“Alaska,” I see him frown, which is the usual reaction I get from people when I tell them my name but then he smiles. “I know, my parents are peculiar that way.”
“I’ve always liked Alaska,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling, which has his face softening. Not exactly like a teddy bear, but more approachable.
“Will you be able to stop whoever this person is?” At my question, he nods.
“Yes I will, how about you tell me everything?” I’m feeling flustered with his eyes on me, something that surprises me as I never feel flustered, after all I have been in the public eye for years. But there is something about this man that has my heart racing, that has my body tingling.
“The first time I received flowers must have been over six months ago.” I think back to the day I arrived home from Milan and the bouquet of roses that was waiting for me downstairs at reception. I thought them beautiful and had them in a vase in the centre of my sitting room, but then they started to become more frequent. “After the influx of flowers, I started to get text messages and then I would come home, and I could tell that someone had been in my apartment.” I feel a shiver travel down my spine in revulsion at the thought of someone touching my stuff without me knowing.
“The day I came home and found a rose on my pillow was the day I packed my bags and left.” There is a muscle ticking in Dash’s jaw, professing to his anger. “I thought I was safe here, but it has all started again.”
“You are safe now, don’t worry.” His head snaps towards the door and he tenses, “are you expecting someone?”
“What? No, I don’t know anyone here.” He is out of his seat and by the door before whoever is on the other side knocks. I am on my feet facing the door as he yanks the door open just as the delivery man lifts his hand to knock. My heart starts racing as I see his hand snap around the man’s neck as he nearly lifts the man off the floor and against the wall outside.
“What are you doing here?” his voice is low and gravely, the mere danger in his voice has Goosebumps rising on my arms.
