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“The longest I stayed somewhere was six months, and that was only because I got in an accident and had to recover. Every time I move, I use a different alias, I change my appearance and sometimes my accent. I was in Sweden for two weeks before I realised someone was watching me.”
“Okay, what about friends you’ve made along the way?”
“Chris, you’re the first mate. I keep my distance, even from the people I temporarily worked with.”
“Girlfriends? Don’t tell me you’ve spent the past six years being a nun!”
“No, I haven’t, but they were all one-night stands. None of them knew my real name and like I said, I changed my appearance.”
Chris rubs his chin in thought. “Yeah, I get that, but you have distinct freckles, you can’t change them.”
I crease my forehead in thought. Shit, have my bloody freckles given me away? No, surely not. I mean, how the hell would anyone even know the women I slept with?
Chris is tapping furiously on his phone. His face pales and then he looks between his screen and me. “I think I know how they found you.”
He turns the screen towards me. He has found a post on Facebook requesting anyone who may have seen me to contact the Facebook account directly. The name on the account is false, I can see that. It was a public post meaning that even if they did have people messaging, that could be thousands of false sightings. Sure, there could be a few true ones, but how the hell could they whittle it down enough to pinpoint my location in Sweden?
Chris seemingly reads my mind. “I think that someone very smart picked up a pattern. Have you hooked up with a woman in every place you’ve travelled to?” I can see where he’s heading. Whoever sent out that post somehow caught on to my sexcapades. It’s true I found a girl in every port, so to speak. Had some of those women seen the post and messaged the unknown user?
“You think they made a link between me and the women I slept with?” I know that’s what he thinks. I just need a little extra time to compute what I’m hearing.
“That’s exactly what I think. Whoever is after you knows how to think outside the box. They probably didn’t know for sure they were right until they saw you in person. I bet that’s why they were in Malmö, but didn’t approach. They needed visual confirmation.”
Chris is one smart cookie. I’m glad I have him on my side. He reminds me of Daisy in a way. “So, what do you suggest? I become celibate for the rest of my life?”
“No,” he laughs. “You gotta find out who it is that tracked you. If they found you once, they’ll find you again.” Wow, that’s reassuring, thanks Chris. The sun is starting to set and I’m emotionally drained. I have no clue what to do next. Should I run again? Go to America maybe? I don’t know.
“Do you want to learn some sign language?” My brain needs a distraction and for whatever reason, Daisy is on my mind. It’s been way too long since I got to sign and I think that everyone hearing or not should learn the language.
“Sure.” Chris is indulging me. He can see I need time to process. He grabs another beer for us both and we begin. I show him the basics, how to say hello and introduce himself. We go through the alphabet and because I’m a child at heart, I teach him as many swear words as I can. We end up laughing and relaxing. Chris is a quick study. I wish Daisy was here. He would love her and she would adore him.
The night sky is stunning. I need to get out of the room for a little while. Chris did a great job of distracting me for a bit, but now I need a little time to think. “Chris, I’m going to see the manager at the beach bar about some work. Do you want to come?”
“I’m going to grab a shower and then head to bed if that’s cool. It’s been a long ass day.” He isn’t wrong. Today has stretched on for an age. I don’t blame him for wanting to crash. If my mind could settle, I would be doing the same thing.
“No worries, I have a key, so I’ll see you later. You know where I am if you need me, okay?”
“Sure, Rose, no worries.” For the first time in six years it bothers me that I’m not able to use my real name. When I first learned about Betty, I was so angry that everything linked to her pissed me off and I wanted nothing to do with it. That included my name. Betty was the one to give it to me when I was born. So when I went on the run it was an added bonus that I could shed Callie and become someone else entirely.
I head to the bar. It’s not packed but there are enough customers to warrant the job advertisement that’s placed in the door. My Spanish is decent enough to get by. I head for the last stool by the wooden bar. Spanish music is playing softly in the background. There is one barman serving and one waitress. My eyes roam up and down her very pleasing form. I wish I could keep my libido in check. Isn’t that the whole reason I’m doubling down on hiding again?
I order a sangria. I’ve had enough beer tonight. The cute waitress stops behind the bar to drop off some empty glasses. Her black hair is in a high ponytail. God, Spanish women are gorgeous. She is wearing a simple V-neck T-shirt and shorts that only just cover her arse. She looks at me and I know I could have her tonight if I want, and I do. I haven’t been able to dispel the sexual frustration that built up in Sweden.
The barman sweeps over to refill my glass that I emptied too quickly. My pulse is racing at the thought of having sex again. Being able to feel another woman’s skin against my own is intoxicating.This is why I was caught,I remind myself, but the thought is less potent than earlier. My body is overriding my mind and all reasons it’s a bad idea to hook-up with this woman are going out the window.
To take my mind off my throbbing clit, I talk to the barman. He’s the owner’s son, and the waitress is the owner’s daughter. I need to tread lightly. I donotneed the locals chasing me with pitchforks because I’ve debauched their beloved Rosa. I know that’s her name because the barman spoke to her briefly before talking to me. Rosa, it rolls right off the tongue. Sublime.
Pedro, the barman, agrees to give me a shot at bartending. According to him, he’s only filling in. Their father is sick and can’t work for several weeks. It’s perfect for what I need and it’s cash in hand. Pedro continues to work down at the other end of the bar, leaving me with Rosa. “Can I buy you a drink?” Not the most original of pick up lines, but I’m tired.
“I have an hour left on my shift and then I would like that.” Her English is excellent, it’s likely she has spent time in the UK. She winks and sets off to collect more glasses. I’m more than happy to wait. I watch her as she works. Her hair is a tad lighter than Daisy’s and her eyes are more hazel. Daisy has chocolate brown eyes; they look almost black sometimes. Why is she in my head so much?
Rosa slides on to the stool next to me. She already has a drink. I don’t care, I just want her attention. “So what’s your name?” she asks me with her delicious accent.
“Rose,” I say. She grins.
“Hmm, Rose and Rosa, they sound good together.” The look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. Rosa doesn’t needorwant me to wine and dine her, she wants what I want.
“I think there is a lot about the two of us that will be good together.” Her smile widens, and she sinks her drink.
