Heartache

by Danielle Allen

  In the blue, I could see Bianca. I saw her beautiful face, her wild, curly hair, and her warm chocolate brown eyes. In the blue, I saw her perfect curvaceous body. In the blue, I heard her ability to make me laugh harder than anyone. In the blue, I felt her intelligence, her talent, her wit. Dropping the brush, I rolled the stool back and looked up at my work. I realized that while Bianca was the blue, I was the black and everywhere the blue and black mixed, a uniquely dark bruise-like blue would emerge.

  The bruises. The dark blue spots were the bruises, I decided, standing up for the first time in hours. I need to go for a run.

  Looking out of the window, I noticed the sun was starting to set. My stomach growled angrily as I stretched.

  Shit, well first I have to eat. How did I manage not to eat all day?

  Not wanting to leave the safety of my studio, I decided on Chinese takeout from the restaurant up the street. Locating the menu, I grabbed my phone and flopped down on the couch. The first thing I noticed was an email alert. Clicking on it apprehensively, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Like I’d been doing for the last week, I braced myself for a dose of creepy.

  *****

  To: Roman

  From: xoxoMExoxo

  Subject: Disappointed

  Roman

  I thought you figured it out, but you didn’t. You haven’t figured out who I am and I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed in myself because I should pull up my big girl panties and tell you who I am. But I’m also disappointed in you for being so close and just walking away. You pretty much had me right there and you so easily let me throw you off. I didn’t even have to do very much to throw you off.

  Look at the clues, Roman. I’m sitting right in front of you.

  *****

  *****

  To: xoxoMExoxo

  From: Roman

  Subject: RE: Disappointed

  Tell me who you are. Please. And what did you mean by distraction?

  *****

  *****

  To: Roman

  From: xoxoMExoxo

  Subject: RE: RE: Disappointed

  Roman, I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear from you! You didn’t respond to my last email so I was afraid you’d grown bored of me and had lost interest. I’m so glad that’s not the case!

  I meant that you seemed really distracted by Bianca. You and Bianca are very close. I inquired and found out that you two are just friends, but you two don’t act like you’re “just friends.”

  Because you asked so nicely, I’ll give you a hint. REVISIT THE MUSIC CLUE. Even if everything else I sent you was ambiguous, the music should tell you everything you need to know.

  *****

  *****

  To: xoxoMExoxo

  From: Roman

  Subject: RE: RE: RE: Disappointed

  When you said “eliminating the distraction,” what did you mean? Was that a threat? How are you getting personal information about me,like my address and the stuff you know about my past?

  *****

  *****

  To: Roman

  From: xoxoMExoxo

  Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Disappointed

  No, not a threat at all! I just meant, I would have to give her a push in another man’s direction so that I could have you to myself.

  Figure out who I am. Come and talk to me and I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Roman. I’ll even give you the name of my source.

  *****

  I’m glad she wasn’t seriously threatening Bianca, but this is still fucking insane. She doesn’t want to tell me who she is because she just wants to play this game and every time I respond back to her, I’m feeding into it, I thought, slamming the phone against the couch. If this was a phone, I could just trace the call. If—

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled as ice cold shock coursed through my veins. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

  With my phone in hand, I started pacing. Dialing Malik’s number, I waited anxiously for him to pick up.

  “Roman! What’s up?” Malik greeted me as soon as he picked up the phone.

  “Too much. What’s up with you?” I replied.

  “Nothing, man. Just about to pick up something to eat. What’s going on?”

  “I need your help as soon as possible.”

  And I really mean immediately, but I’m not trying to be rude.

  “Is everything alright?” Malik asked nervously. “Where are you?”

  “Yeah…well, it will be. I can explain when you get here. Just come to Art House. I’m ordering Chinese.”

  “Okay cool. Order the noodles for me instead of rice. I’ll be there in ten.”

  Disconnecting the call, I called the Chinese restaurant and ordered enough food to feed five people, instead of just two. My stomach growled as each dish was ordered.

  Fifteen minutes later, I received a call from the delivery woman saying she was downstairs.

  Putting my shirt and shoes back on, I hurried downstairs to pay for the food. As soon as the money was exchanged, I saw Malik walking in.

  “Perfect timing,” I said as he walked up.

  He gave me a look. “What’s going on, man? You had me nervous the whole way over here.”

  “Let’s eat and talk.”

  As soon as we got into the studio, I sat the food on the small table. Malik immediately walked over to the painting I was working on.

  He stood quietly, staring at it for a minute. “This is cool.”

  I looked at it and knew exactly what it represented, but I wasn’t sure what Malik saw. I prayed he didn’t see what I saw in it.

  “Thanks.”

  Malik backed away from the painting and then took a seat on the other side of the table. We hungrily ate in silence for a couple of minutes before I was satiated enough to start a conversation.

  “So, I need your help. I don’t even know if it’s possible for you do to, but it’s all I can think of at this point.”

  Malik stopped with his fork in mid-air and his eyebrows flew up. He put the fork full of food down and sat back in his chair. “This sounds serious. What’s up?”

  I ran my hand down my face. “It is serious. Remember a week ago when I told you and Easy about the message on the mirror and the follow-up email from—”

  “Your secret admirer,” Malik interrupted, nodding his head. “I remember that. Did you figure out who it was?”

  “No, but that’s where I need your help.” I took a swig of water before continuing, “It wasn’t just that one email. It’s been a lot of emails, and a couple of packages sent to my house. Well, one to my actual house and one here.”

  “Shit… that’s freaky man. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I thought I could handle it. I’ve been looking into each of the legit leads and the only one that fits is Hannah. Easy’s got something going on with her and he doesn’t think it’s her, but I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s been a week and it needs to end.”

  “Hannah, one of the volleyball girls from the party?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t know Hannah at all, but she lives in the neighborhood so I could see it being her. If it’s not her, that’s crazy because how else would she be able to drop off packages and do other creepy, stalkerish things without being caught. Because you haven’t seen a car lingering around your house, right? Man, I kind of hope it is Hannah because if it’s not, that’s creepy as hell. I don’t want to think of someone being that good that they can slip in and out of places undetected.”

  “That’s not even the worst part. It’s like whoever she is, she knows me. She’s said some pretty personal things about me. Things that…” I shook my head.

  Things that no one should know about me. Things that no one could possibly know about me.

  “Things like what?” Malik asked.

  “Things that happened eight years ago.”

  “Oh.” Malik’s surprise was evident on his face.

  “Yeah.”

 
Getting up from my chair, I grabbed my laptop from the desk and brought it to the table. Powering up, I logged into my email account and let him read the email chain as we ate in silence. When he finished reading, he took his last bite of beef and broccoli.

  “This shit is crazy. She’s toying with you. It doesn’t seem like she’s going to try to hurt you, or B for that matter. But who knows? People are crazy nowadays. Maybe it’s time to get the police involved.”

  “She’s clearly crazy and that’s why I want to figure out who she is and confront her. If she does anything, I can file a restraining order or do something to keep her away, but without a name, it’ll be a bigger deal than it needs to be if I go to the police.”

  “Oh and if it’s in the news and stuff, Charlotte Spence will definitely hear about it.”

  “And drop me.”

  Malik nodded. “That’s true. I didn’t even think about that.”

  I ran my hands down my face. “I didn’t either. B did.”

  “B’s smart,” Malik noted, looking at me knowingly.

  I got up from the table to grab another bottle of water. “Yeah, she is.”

  It was quiet for a few seconds and guilt ripped through my chest, causing me to make a noise.

  “You okay?”

  My heart was racing. “Yeah. Caught a cramp in my back from sitting for so long,” I explained, stretching my arms out over my head. “So anyway, when I was responding to her emails today, it occurred to me that there might be a way to find out who sent the emails.”

  “I don’t know,” Malik said slowly.

  Disappointment was starting to creep in as I watched him stroke his beard and stare at the last email.

  If he can’t do it, I have no more ideas as to how to find this person and put an end to it.

  Malik looked up at me. There was a flicker of something in his eyes and I knew he had a plan.

  “What?” I asked, afraid to get too excited.

  “I can’t pinpoint an exact person, but I can track the original location of the email by using the IP address. I can find the IP address in the email header section and then look up the location of the IP address. It may or may not help. If she’s emailing from work or using a business’s internet, there’s a better likelihood that the server has a public IP address. If she used her own computer and has a private IP address, or if she used someone else’s computer, it won’t really tell you anything. That’s all I got. It’s a start.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck most of that means, but you do, and that’s all that matters!” I laughed, clapping him on the back as I walked by. “And that’s more than a start; that’s genius, man!”

  The sound of him tapping against the keyboard came to an abrupt stop. “You do realize I’m off the clock and you have me doing work.”

  “Name your price.”

  “I’ll bill you.”

  “While you do that, I’m going to listen to the music she sent me and see if I can figure anything out that way.”

  Searching my bag for the mp3 player, I hooked it up to my speaker and the first song blared out.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, turning the music down. “When I paint, I have the music up loud.”

  The first song was the classical one and I still had no clue about the title of the song or the composer. I hit the button so it would play on repeat.

  What could this be?

  Turning in his chair, Malik asked, “Are any of the women dancers?”

  “Based on the list we created last week, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Well this is from that ballet, Swan Lake.”

  I felt my eyebrows come together. Malik didn’t strike me as the ballet type. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve seen one ballet in my whole life and that was with Courtney about a month ago. She wanted to go see Swan Lake after we rented Black Swan and this song was in both.”

  I started pacing. A ballet dancer?

  “I found two different IP addresses,” Malik announced, interrupting my thoughts. He scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

  I looked at him expectantly. “Can you figure out where the emails are coming from?”

  “Possibly, but I’ll have to go to the office to do it.” Malik stood up, putting the paper in his pocket. “I’m going to the office on a Saturday. You owe me.”

  “I do. I appreciate this, man. Seriously, name your price,” I told him as we got on the elevator.

  “Call Bianca. That’s my price.”

  The air left my lungs in a rush. I was trapped in the elevator so I couldn’t even walk away from the conversation like I wanted to. “What?”

  He pointed up “That painting you just did. Those little swirls in the blue are the letter ‘B’ repeating. You’re not slick. Call her and I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

  As if on cue, the elevator door opened and Malik strode out. I stepped out of the elevator so that the woman waiting could get in.

  “Those are abstract designs,” I argued to his back as he walked through the lobby.

  Malik turned around so that he was walking backward. “They look like the letter ‘B’ to me.”

  “You need to get your eyes checked,” I yelled as he got further away.

  “You need to make that call,” he yelled back, just before he walked out of the door.

  Bianca is at home with her parents today. Malik and I will figure out who is sending messages and then I’ll go and tell her. Once she’s safe, that’ll be the last time I’ll contact her. It’s for her own good, I told myself as I pushed the elevator button.

  “Roman!” Monroe shouted, scurrying over to me.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you in a better mood than you were in this morning?”

  I clenched my jaw. “What do you need, Monroe?

  The elevator doors opened and she walked in with me. “I just wanted to give you your messages.”

  “Isn’t that Meredith’s job?”

  Looking at the numbers as they climbed to the fifth floor, I listened to Monroe.

  “Meredith has been seeing this guy for the last week and she’s been all dreamy eyed.” Lowering her voice in a gossipy way, Monroe leaned in a little closer to me. “Apparently, he came in one day and they started talking. From that point forward, Meredith has been glued to her phone and computer. It’s kind of cute. She’s so shy that I thought about setting her up a few times.”

  My head snapped in Monroe’s direction.

  For the last week? Glued to her phone and computer? Could Meredith be the one sending me creepy messages?

  “But he came in yesterday and took her to lunch,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to my piqued interest.

  Oh well, never mind. If the guy actually exists and she’s been seeing him, I don’t think she’s the one sending me messages.

  “And he’s cute, too. He has a stocky build and dark hair. He has a great smile and his eyes are so blue. They looked cute together, but it was weird. I told her that when he brings her back by tonight, I need to meet him.”

  I stepped off of the elevator and Monroe followed right behind me. Standing outside of my studio door, I crossed my arms.

  Why am I listening to this?

  “He tried to kiss her and she wouldn’t.”

  “Were you standing there watching them? Because that’s probably why,” I quipped, checking my phone for the time. “I have some things to do, so I’d rather hear what my messages are than to hear about Meredith’s personal business.”

  “Fine, fine! Well you got a call from a Mr. Draken. Here’s his number. He said he was going to be out of the office by five so for you to call him Monday. He said he was impressed by your work and what he’d heard about you from a colleague who had attended the showcase!” She squealed and bounced her shoulders up and down. She hit the elevator button. “Do you know how many calls I’ve gotten about renting space here because of you? Your talent and success is bringing in business.”

  I gave her a
smile. “Thanks Monroe.”

  The elevator doors opened as I opened the door to my studio. Music blasted out of the soundproof studio.

  “Oh I’ve had that song in my head for the last couple of days. It’s a good one,” she commented as she stepped into the elevator.

  I froze, feeling the chill run down my back.

  She smirked at me and waved. “Bye, Roman,” she said just as the doors closed.

  Entering the studio and slamming the door behind me, I started pacing.

  Monroe? Is Monroe the one sending me emails? Should I confront her now or should I wait until I hear from Malik? What the fuck man? That explains a lot, but it doesn’t explain how she knew about Tia. Since B’s been back from Italy, she’s been here a handful of times and I don’t remember ever introducing them. How would she have known Bianca’s name?

  I lost track of time as I paced for at least an hour, questioning everything as I attempted to figure out if Monroe could be the person who had been harassing me.

  I should wait for Malik, I told as I tried to busy myself. I should wait for Malik.

  My nerves were shot and my hands were unsteady so painting was out of the question. I did some pushups, took a shower and then paced again. The only thing I could think to do to pass the time was pace.

  I took a break from pacing for a minute to look at the painting I’d worked on that afternoon. I leaned close to the curves and noticed that some of them looked vaguely like the letter ‘B,’ but it was a stretch.

  “Easy is rubbing off on Malik,” I concluded, muttering under my breath as I started my journey back and forth across the space again.

  When I received a text message from Malik saying that he’d found something and that he was on his way back, I had a sudden jolt of energy.

  Proof.

  When I couldn’t take waiting anymore, I grabbed my stuff and headed downstairs.

  I’m not going to say anything until I have the proof from Malik in my hands. When I said something to Allie, she got the wrong idea. When I said something to Hannah, she denied it and because I didn’t have proof, there was nothing I could say to counter her denial. So I need the proof in hand before I approach Monroe, but I don’t need it to have a conversation, I reasoned as I made my way to her office.