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Me:
Yes dear
Taylor:
*kissing emoji* Good. I gotta run. CALL ME if anything else happens.
Me:
Byyyyyyeee bitch. Will do.
I slide my phone into my apron pocket and glance at the clock again with a sigh.
Normally, I would be ready to head home but I’m nervous about being alone in my apartment tonight. I really wish I had one of the fancy camera security doorbells so I would at least get notified a few moments before some creep tries to break in. Not that I could afford one. Hell, I’m not even sure I can afford to pay a locksmith to come out and change my locks.
Staring up at the ceiling, I run through my life, trying to figure out what I could have done to avoid ending up here. So many different choices lead up to this moment and, if I’m being totally honest, I don’t think I’d have been able to change a single one.
Not that I believe in fate or anything, I just know that I made the decisions I thought were best with the information I was working with at the time. Hindsight is 20/20 and, of course, I can think of things I’d do differently now, but that’s just because I have insider knowledge at this point. Like flipping through a book to the middle and reading a few pages then restarting back at the beginning and screaming at the characters to see what was happening.
It doesn’t help, won’t ever work.
With that thought, I give myself a little shake and decide to start rounding up the trash. At least it’ll keep my hands busy and I’ll be able to quickly run it out once I lock up. After collecting all the bags, I set them down by the alley door and glance at the clock. Again.
Finding I still have another ten minutes before I can lock up, I pull out my phone. Opening up my contacts, I scroll down to find his name. I should have deleted it immediately after what happened but I could never quite bring myself to push the button. Even now, after last night, my finger hovers over Seth’s name as I will myself to just hit delete.
A loud bang causes my head to whip up and I quickly shove my phone back into my apron. Creeping quietly, I head toward the noise, thinking it might be a stray animal caught in the tables out front. Oddly enough, it wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. I try to be more cautious after my mystery visitor this morning. Peeking out the front windows first, I slowly pull the door open and step outside. Glancing around, I don’t see anything out of place and am just about to head back inside when another bang goes off to my left.
I scream and jump back, knocking into the patio seating. Losing my footing, I start to tumble backwards, flailing wildly until my hand connects with a sharp piece of metal sticking out of the side of the building. I land heavily on my ass clutching my now bleeding hand to my chest, eyes wildly looking around. I’m both relieved and irritated to find no one else. At least my humiliation isn’t being witnessed, but that just means I’ve worked myself up enough to actually get injured because of a noise.
Huffing a breath, I push up with my uninjured hand and head back inside. Deciding I’ve been through enough and no one’s going to come in the five minutes, I say fuck it and lock the door before heading to the back room and grabbing the first aid kid to tend to my wound. It’s not a deep cut but enough to cause a trickle of blood to seep out. I glance down and notice my light shirt has a new stain that looks suspiciously like blood. Narrowing my eyes at my hand, I curse while gingerly cleaning the cut.
Damnit Paige, pull yourself together.
Once my hand is clean, I pull out a small pad of gauze and push it against the cut, wrapping the self-adhesive wrap around my hand to hold the gauze in place. Satisfied with my handiwork, I put away the first aid kit and scoop up the trash bags.
As soon as I’m in the alleyway and heading toward the garbage bin, I start to feel the same prickle down my spine that I felt weeks ago.
Either I’m officially going crazy or someone is fucking with me.
Reminding myself to take deep even breaths, I continue forward.
Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. Now is not the time to have a panic attack. Just keep breathing. In. Out. In. Ou-
My mental pep talk is interrupted by a light scuffling behind me. I freeze, clutching the bags in my hands so tightly my fingers start to cramp. Unsure what to do, I stay frozen to the spot, ears straining for any other noise. A small squeak leaves me as I hear the same sound again, this time followed by the soft pad of footsteps.
That’s no animal.
And it’s getting closer to me.
Finally breaking out of my stupor, I drop the bags and run.
Chapter 7
Mick
Watching the preppy blonde, I find my mind wandering. I’ve been trying to stay focused on gathering more information on Becky so I can form a solid plan, but have found it difficult to keep my mind on her. Instead, it keeps drifting back to Paige.
Did she find my card? What did she think of it?
