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Springing to my feet, I wipe off leaves and rub at the smudge of dried mud on my left knee. Feeling a prickling on my nape, I jerk my head up and quickly scan the street. Nothing out of the ordinary. A car curves around the corner of my street and I plaster myself against the building, hoping the shadows cover me in case it’s someone who might know me. The car rolls past without stopping and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I lower the rim of my black baseball cap over my face, swing the messenger bag back on, and grab my wheatpaste bucket and another bag of utensils. I check both ways one last time before making my way down the street, praying no one notices me.
Halfway down the street, the hair on the back of my neck pricks upagain. I glance over my shoulder. A shadow moves farther down the street, but it’s so quick I’m not sure whether I’d imagined it or not.
I pass by Marku’s home and instinctually look down the side of the house at his bedroom window. The lights are on. Of course they are. The guy never sleeps. Anytime I pass by in the dead of night, the lights of his bedroom glow like a beacon in the dark. I feel a twinge of regret in my chest, but I shove it away. My hands were tied. I couldn’t tell him about this. If he freaked out about going to the Village in the middle of the day, he’d go ballistic if he ever found out about this.
I finish plastering my posters across several streets when I feel that odd sensation again. The skin on my arms tingle with awareness. I scan my surroundings carefully and this time I see someone. The silhouette of a man in a dark suit. I pick up my pace. I’ve got a good idea who it is and I want to get off the street as soon as I can. The Uber I ordered should have hopefully arrived. I just have to get to the end of the street and whip around the corner, and I’ll be safe.
I’ve just caught sight of the Uber when a hand shoots out from a dark corner and snatches my arm. I let out a shrill scream. A rough hand covers my mouth.How did the creeper get here?I drop the bucket and bag and put up a struggle, throwing my elbow into a set of ribs.
I hear a grunt and then, “Fuck, Crina, stop already.”
I freeze in place. The fight drains from my limbs. The clasp around my mouth loosens and I turn my head to meet a pair of furious eyes. I mean, the deep black flames in his irises could scorch down the entire block.
Out of the frying pan into the fire.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck is right. What the hell? We just talked about this. You agreed to atruce. You agreed to text me before you go out.”
His enraged gaze ticks down my frame, clocking the fact that I’m wearing all black, not my usual look even if I wanted to blend in with the other poets at the club. “You’re dressed like a ninja ready to melt into the brickwork.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he snaps, “Don’t you dare spew out lies right now. I swear, I can’t take it.”
“What the hell are you even doing here? It’s super disturbing to see you sneaking around like some pedo.”
His face turns stormier if that’s possible. “Don’t you try turning this on me. I have insomnia. I usually take a walk around the block when it’s quiet out. But look who I stumbled upon tonight.” His knuckles wisp down the side of my cheek. His voice is soft, but his tone deadly when he says, “Little Red Riding Hood, out for a merry little jaunt in the woods all by her lonesome.”
And there’s no doubt he’s the scary predator lying in wait in this story.
I discreetly glance around and the other guy has vanished. Marku is a deadly predator, but he’s one I know.
And trust.
Not gonna lie, I’m not fighting to get out of Marku’s hold. I might even sag a little against his broad chest as relief rushes through my veins. I’d planned to go out, no matter what, but his words and worries had messed with my head, putting me on edge. And then I caught sight of what could have been a perfectly normal man, but felt like a creeper. I can handle an angry Marku over a shadowy, encroaching threat any day of the week.
I’m almost grateful when he looks down quizzically at the bucket and bag of paint brushes. “Where are you going?”
Thinking on my feet, I lie, “I need to drop these off at Gabby’s house. I’m helping her with the stage for the theatre club.” Gabby’s deep in with the theatre club and those kids are obsessive, building the stage sets from scratch for every play they put on.
“In the middle of the night?”
My eyes dart to his before skittering away. “You said ‘no judgments.’”
“You said you’d text me,” he retorts.
I send him a reproachful glare. “You manipulated me into agreeing to that truce.”
“Bullshit,” he shot back. “You can’t play the weak littlemafiegirl with me. I’ve never succeeded in manipulating you into doing anything. I was merely stating the facts, and being a smart, intelligent woman, you acknowledged those facts and agreed to my terms. You could’ve haggled me down, but you didn’t even try because you had no intention of keeping your end of the bargain.”
The Uber gives a little honk and I startle, instinctually shaking my head for it to shut up.
“Fuck, no, you do not have an Uber waiting. Where the hell were you planning on going after you dropped this stuff off?”
He may have bought my story about Gabby without blinking an eye, but I’ve been caught red handed. Damn that Uber driver.
“This is beyond reckless.”
