by Casey Lane
My three friends walked through the door moments after Sara and I sat. As they took their seats, I made introductions and flagged the server to take our orders. With all the preliminaries out of the way, I got straight to the meat of why I called a meeting. I quickly recapped the first phone message for Sara’s benefit, glossed over the hang up calls and the prickling, hair-raising feelings of paranoia I’ve been experiencing, before detailing the appearance of the mystery flowers and latest message.
“Holy shit, Lex, this is serious,” Bella whispered.
“I’m calling dad,” Makayla announced, and she got up from the table.
“Are you sure it’s not David?” Jack asked.
“Initially, I thought it could be him. I mean this is totally the kind of crap he would pull trying to scare me into running back to him.”
“It’s not him,” Sara said decisively, triggering three sets of eyes to swivel in her direction.
“How do you know that?” Jack asked suspiciously.
Sara shrugged, “I only met him a few times, but he didn’t strike me as the type of guy who would spend that kind of money on flowers. Four dozen roses, that had to cost a mint. He’s too selfish to throw that kind of cash down for someone else.” Sara’s epiphany was greeted by approving nods from Bella and Jack.
“Was I the only one who didn’t see what a douche he was?” I asked as Makayla rejoined the table. A chorus of yeses answered me.
“Expect a call from Daddy later.”
“Makayla,” I said exasperatedly.
“What? I talked him out of hopping in the truck and driving down immediately. And FYI, he is now under the impression that Ethan is Rambo.” I gave her a, thanks a lot, look and was rewarded with a, what did you expect, expression in return. Non-verbal communication is our second language. We have had a lot of practice over the years.
“Alright, we can rule out David. Who else do we have on the list?” Jack asked.
“That’s just it,” I laughed humorlessly. “There is no one else. Ethan is the first guy I’ve dated since David. I didn’t even have anyone interested enough to ask me out so I could turn them down. I’m at a complete loss.”
“And you didn’t recognize the voice this time either?” Bella asked.
“It was the same as the first message. The voice was altered somehow.”
The five of us spent the next hour playing detective, but no one could come up with a plausible culprit. When we couldn’t put off heading back to work any longer, my entourage trailed me to the office and tucked me safely behind closed doors before leaving.
With only a few hours left in the workday and a deadline looming around the corner, Sara headed off to Scott’s office to put the final changes on their assignment. I began riffling through portfolios Jerry dropped off during lunch. Unfortunately, my concentration was shot. I found my mind wondering constantly, replaying the past year, and coming up empty. Everything at work remained status quo. I hadn’t made any life altering changes, unless you count kicking that lying, cheating bastard to the curb or starting a relationship with Ethan. The more I thought about it, the less likely David as my stalker became. Sara was right. He is too damn selfish to put this kind of energy into someone else.
I was wracking my brain and grasping at straws trying to come up with someone plausible. I decided to take a different approach to the problem. The first message didn’t occur until that night at Inferno when Makayla stun gunned me. Whoever this is watched Ethan carry me out. I don’t remember seeing anyone I knew that night, not that I was actually looking. I wonder if Makayla saw anyone. I’ll have to remember to ask her. Hmmm, maybe it’s not someone I know. Maybe it’s one of those jaded, ex, non-girlfriends Ethan had. It was obvious that the voice on the recorder was altered so it’s really not that farfetched that it could be a girl. Maybe she is trying to warn me off Ethan, or make him believe I am more trouble than I’m worth. Either way, we split. This idea has merit.
However, if it’s a scorned lover who wanted more, how would she have known who I was or gotten my phone number. It’s not like Ethan and I had gone out previously. The only conversation I even had with him before that night was the one time I saw him at Ardor, and it was strictly professional. People would have been more likely to think I was seeing Sebastian than Ethan. The more I mulled over this scenario, the bigger the holes in my theory got. Well shit.
I am pulled out of my reverie by the vibration of my cell phone against the desk. It was a text from Ethan letting me know he was out front. I packed up my things and hurried towards the front of the building. My mind was in a continuous loop, replaying every detail of all of the times something just felt off. I was looking for any kind of clue that would help put an end to this mystery. Amid all of this distraction, I failed to notice Jerry walking towards me until I crashed into him, sending his pile of papers scattering to the floor and knocking us both on our bottoms.
Jerry is short for a guy, maybe around my height. I’d guess that we weigh about the same too. His receding, strawberry blonde hair makes him appear much older than he really is, and the fact that he chooses to dress every day in khakis and one of those four-button, cardigan style sweaters does not help. He is painfully introverted, and I could probably count on one hand the amount of words he has spoken to me since I’ve worked here.
I took a fleeting look around at the mess I caused before swinging my eyes to Jerry. I couldn’t help it. I totally blame it on the stress I’ve been under with all of this stalker crap, but when I caught sight of the shocked, deer in the headlights look on his face, I burst out laughing.
“Oh Jerry, I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please let me help you clean this up.”
We both scuttled around on our hands and knees attempting to gather the loose documents before our co-workers trampled them. Standing, I straightened the stack in my hand and held them out to him.
“Do you need help getting them back in order?”
“N-n-no,” Jerry stammered. “Thank, thank you for helping me.”
“It was no problem at all. I mean, after all, I was the klutz that ran into you,” I said with a sincere smile. “Have a good night Jerry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jerry gave me a timid smile and hurried past. I think I may have heard him murmur good night, but I can’t be sure.
I finally made my way out to Ethan’s Escalade and hopped in with a smile still playing on my lips. I leaned across the seat, grabbing his face with both hands to pull him towards me, and smacked him with a big wet one right on the lips.
“Hi ya, hot stuff, what’s shakin’.”
The corners of his mouth tugged upward and he replied, “You were taking so long I thought I might have to conduct a search and rescue to bust you out.”
“I ran into one of the clerks on my way out and got held up.” At Ethan’s raised eyebrow, I continued my explanation while he eased into traffic. “No seriously, I literally ran into Jerry, papers flew everywhere. The look on his face was priceless.”
“You’re a walking calamity. How you’ve managed not to seriously hurt yourself is beyond me.”
“Hey!” I yelled with mock outrage, smacking him on the shoulder. The asshat had the nerve to laugh.
We walked into Ethan’s apartment to the smell of something mouthwatering. I left my things in a pile on the floor and all but ran into the kitchen. I removed the lid from a large crockpot on the counter to reveal a beef roast with all of the trimmings. Ethan, and his characteristic smirk, was leaning against the island when I turned around. The twinkle in his eyes told me how amused he was by my actions.
“You have a crockpot,” I stated.
“Apparently so,” he grinned.
“It smells amazing. I didn’t know you cooked.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said with a wink and handed me a plate.
I heaped piles of meat, potatoes, and carrots onto the dish and exchanged it for the empty one he was still holding. After f
illing my own plate, which did not even put a dent in the amount of food prepared, I joined Ethan and a waiting bottle of wine at the table.
“Are you sure you made enough?” I quipped.
“You forget, I have seen how much you eat,” was his somber reply.
I’m sure I would have had a witty comeback, but I had chosen that moment to pop a bite of the roast into my mouth. It was delectable. Seasoned to perfection, melt in your mouth good. I was in heaven. I opened my eyes and noticed Ethan, fork halted half way to his mouth, staring at me.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about what we were doing the last time I saw that look on your face,” he said dreamily.
We spent the rest of our meal bantering back and forth. This was the most relaxed either of us had been in a long time. It was nice laughing and enjoying each other’s company without the interruption of some crazy nut job. Our jovial mood continued while we cleared the table. Ethan loaded the dishwasher, and I wiped down the table. Moving to clean the counter, I noticed a hand written note.
“You dog!” I laughed holding up the note.
Ethan,
I put a roast and veggies in the crockpot for dinner.
Don’t forget to turn it to warm so it doesn’t dry out.
There’s chocolate pie in the fridge for desert.
Love you,
Mom
“Damn, I can’t believe I forgot about the pie.”
I threw the dishrag at him and exclaimed, “I cannot believe you were going to pass your mother’s cooking off as your own!”
“I never actually said I cooked anything.” Pulling me to him, he bent so that his lips hovered just above my own. “But I certainly do know how to heat things up.”
Oh, boy did he ever.
Chapter Eleven
I am totally looking forward to tonight. My pals and I are going over to The Whiskey Crow to see a classic rock cover band called The Gypsies. I have been on house arrest all week. I’m a natural homebody and normally love spending quiet time at home alone, that is when it’s my choice. Having someone dictate to you that you can’t go anywhere, even if it is for my own safety, just doesn’t sit well. The fact that my incarceration took place at Ethan’s apartment did not help matters. Regardless of how many times he told me to make myself at home, I still felt like a guest. He spent his evenings at the club, not returning home until the early morning hours. I did try hanging out there one night and ended up feeling even more out of place than I did at the apartment.
I tried to explain all of this to Ethan when I told him that I was going to the concert. It caused one hell of a fight. He went all alpha male on me and informed me that I was not allowed to go. That flipped my bitch switch and caused me to divulge the news that he was not my daddy. It was downhill from there. A screaming match ensued. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but there was a lot of, it’s not safe, blah…blah…blah, followed by, I’m a grown ass woman, yada…yada…yada. He finally gave up and stormed off into his study, slamming the door behind him.
Ethan finally emerged when it was time for both of us to leave. He gave me a speculative once over that made me self-conscience and pissed me off at the same time. As we rode the elevator in silence, I couldn’t help but scrutinize my appearance in the mirrored walls. I had let my hair air dry, which resulted in a blanket of waves cascading past my shoulders. My make-up was a little bolder than usual, but it was by no means thick. I had donned a pair of old, faded jeans that had frayed in several spots from years of wear. I topped my simple black tank with a midriff, two button, gunmetal grey, leather vest. Completing the outfit was a thick black, leather belt and my black motorcycle boots. I was dressed extremely conservative for a rock concert so what the hell was his problem.
Ethan walked me through the lobby and out the front doors to where the gang was waiting with our cab. He placed a soft kiss on my temple and with a narrow eyed smile told me to have a good time. I do not trust that smile one little bit.
The Whiskey Crow was packed and personal space was nonexistent. You could not move more than a few steps without brushing up against someone. Strobe lights and colored lasers flashed around the dimly lit room. The music was loud, and everyone was on their feet dancing and singing along. The heat generating from writhing bodies caused the compact space to reach scorching temperatures. I could feel beads of sweat trickling down my back and was glad that I had chosen to wear a tank.
I got Makayla’s attention and shouted that I was going to grab a beer and step outside to cool off for a few minutes. Nodding, she grabbed my hand and began shoving our way through the dense crowd. We managed to make it to the bar without separating, and then headed out the back door for some fresh air.
“The Gypsies are on fire tonight!” Makayla’s shouted declaration was met with cheers and raised cans from four guys to our left.
I pulled my damp hair away from neck and the warm breeze triggered goose pimples to emerge on my clammy skin. Makayla, eyes closed, was leaning up against the cool bricks of the building. I took a swig of my beer, looking around the courtyard. There was a small crowd of people ambling about. A group of scantily clad girls were swaying and belting out the words to the song that drifted from inside the building. The door opened, and a cluster of boisterous college kids staggered out, one of which was sporting a t-shirt that read: I’m 21! Show me your Slippery Nipple and I’ll see you Sex on the Beach with an Orgasm. The shirt made me chuckle. What can I say, I’m easily amused.
Knowing that being out tonight made Ethan nervous, I pulled my phone from my pocket to text that all was well in my world and I would see him later. As I hit send, the ground beneath my feet began to vibrate. The crowd, both inside and out, started cheering. We slipped back inside with Makayla dragging me through the thick wall of people. We reached Bella and Jack as the lead guitarist made his way to the front of the stage. A guitar riff joined the unrelenting thumping of the drums and the masses began chanting THUNDER in time with the music. When The Gypsies’ front man stepped up to the mic and sang out the first line of the song, the assembly exploded.
With each new song, the growing horde pressed even closer to the stage. Bodies packed together, moving as if they were one single living organism. Lyrics reverberated from the huge speakers, and the already frenzied crowd became untamable. I tried to stay connected to my group, but a set of rowdy fans forced their way between, separating us.
The swarm of surrounding people pushed and shoved forward, and I was desperately trying to stay on my feet. I could hear The Gypsies singing as I tried to power my way towards the back of the room. The lead had just spat out the last line of the chorus when a pair of steel bands wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. Panic set in immediately. I began kicking my legs in a vain attempt at freedom, while the noise of the manic crowd swallowed my frightened cries. My captor parted the flood of bodies easily, knocking people from his path, and dragging me backwards with him. With everyone’s attention still focused on the stage, he was able to pull me across the floor without anyone noticing. Pushing open a side door, we exited the bar into an overgrown lot. I doubled my efforts to get away, frantically twisting my body and screaming until my throat hurt. The man holding me was saying something in my ear, but I was too terrified for his words to register. The door opened and a large, beefy man stepped out, holding a cell phone to the side of his head.
“The crowd got out of control. We had to evacuate.” The man’s eyes quickly swept me from head to toe. “She appears to be fine, just a little shaken.” There was another pause as the man listened to the voice on the other end. “Will do, boss.”
The call disconnected, and the man shoved the phone into his front pocket, approaching me slowly with hands raised in a placating motion.
“Do you know who I am? I work for Ethan. No one here is going to hurt you.”
I took a shuddering breath, blinking the lingering tears from my eyes, and focusing on the man standing cautiously in fro
nt of me. He was a big guy with black hair that hung past his ears. Peeking out from under both shirtsleeves and winding all the way down his arms to end at his wrists, were dark tribal tattoos.
“You’re the doorman,” I said sniffling.
“That’s right. My name’s Roland, but everyone calls me Tank. The guy holding you is my friend Ben. You gonna be ok if he lets you go now?”
Ben unwound his arms and stepped back, giving me space. I wiped at the watery tracks running down my cheeks with trembling hands. The three of us stood there silently while I took deep breaths in an attempt to calm my fractured nerves.
Turning to Ben I asked, “why did you grab me?”
“The boss man’s paying us to keep you safe. I figured not letting you get trampled by a bunch of drunken idiots fell under that category.”
I gave him an acknowledging nod, and tried to process the thoughts volleying around my head. A buzz on my thigh indicated I had an incoming text. I fished the phone from my pocket to see Makayla’s name on the screen.
***Where r u?***
I began walking towards the front of the building. Typing out a reply and telling my two bodyguards that I needed to find my friends.
***Went out side door. Meet u in front***
Within a few short feet, the two men were flanking me on both sides. We rounded the corner of the building and I craned my neck, looking through the sea of people for my friends. Several moments passed before Tank pointed, saying, “there’s Sebastian’s girl.”
Makayla took one look at me and demanded, “what the hell happened to you? You’re a mess.” Before I could answer, her eyes swiveled between the two behemoths standing beside me. “And who are these two?”
“Apparently, Ethan hired these two goons to be my bodyguards tonight. Ben here did a snatch and grab when the crowd got crazy, freaking me the hell out,” I said dryly.
“Ethan hired bodyguards? That’s kind of sweet,” Bella said.
