Dagger

by Sterling, S. L.

"You know I am going to want to double your training time."

  I nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes to get me to the big leagues, so if it means doubling up on training and fighting in whatever fights necessary to get me there, I'll do it."

  "All right, good stuff. As soon as I hear, I'll call!"

  I shook hands with my coach and headed to the shower and cleaned myself up. As soon as I had packed up my bag, I headed over to the grocery store. I could only pick up a little bit of food at a time; the little fridge in my room only held so much, but at least it worked. The fridge had crapped out in my last place, and the landlord refused to fix it, causing me to have to eat out.

  I wandered through the store picking up the few things I needed and paid for my purchase. Then I made my way over to the health food store. I was out of my protein and had taken the last of my vitamins this morning.

  As I left the store, I felt like there was an extra spring in my step. I felt great. I didn't need to worry about roaches or mice getting into my food anymore. Plus, now that I knew the coach had a line on this fight, I felt that my chances at a better life were actually taking form.

  With protein powder and vitamins shoved in the bag, I made my way across the parking lot to my car and made my way back to the hotel.

  My next match was in a week. I needed to get my body back to as close to one hundred percent as I could, so that meant lots of vegetables and protein. I had to win this coming match. It was my only chance to get one step closer to my dream of getting out of Virginia Beach, because this sure as hell wasn't my dream. Virginia Beach was simply a stepping stone to bigger, better, and brighter things. I wanted the stage, and now that it was within sight, I could almost taste it.

  I pulled my car into the parking spot in front of my room and cut the engine. Immediately, I noticed a car parked beside me. The trunk was open and filled with suitcases. The door next to my room stood wide open. I must be getting a new neighbor, I thought to myself as I climbed out and went around to my trunk. With my arms full, I made my way up to my door and was just about to put the key in the lock when I caught a glimpse of a woman. She darted out of the open door and made her way to the back of the car next to mine.

  I glanced over at the pile of bags and boxes on the ground outside of the other door. She sure had a lot of stuff. That was one thing I had learned over the years: pack light. This couldn't be a weekender. She must be an extended-stay, I thought to myself.

  I slipped the key into the lock and turned it, hearing the lock click open when I heard an agitated voice come from behind me.

  "For fuck’s sake, come on, get out of there, you stupid piece of crap!" I heard her groan and then start to swear.

  I glanced over my shoulder, watching her reef on the bag she was trying to get out of her trunk. "You stupid piece of shit." She dropped the bag and stomped her foot on the ground and began trying to pull on the bag again.

  I chuckled to myself, opened my door, and set my stuff down on the floor just inside the room. I closed my door, pocketed my keys, and walked around to the back of her car. I stood watching this tiny woman continue to struggle to get the last piece of luggage out of her trunk. She was an attractive girl—well, what I could see of her—and I was sort of enjoying watching her struggle for a second, until she dropped the bag again and wiped at her eyes.

  "You need some help with that?" I asked, trying to come off as friendly as possible. I didn't want to startle her. I knew she had no idea I was behind her, and I knew most women were nervous around guys my size.

  As soon as the words left my lips, she dropped the handle on the suitcase, her body tensed as the suitcase fell back into the trunk with a thud. She backed away from the car, spinning around to face me. The look of genuine fear on her face shocked me little at first, but then then I was the one who was shocked because of who stood in front of me.

  "Katy?" I grinned. "What are you doing here?"

  She didn't reply. Instead, she went pale, and the look of fear on her face almost sent me to my knees. "Are...Are...Have you been following me?" she murmured, backing away from me, holding her hands up in front of her, signaling for me to stay away as if I were going to hurt her.

  I let out a laugh. "Not likely. I lived here first," I said, pointing to my glorious newfound home, and winked at her. I stepped forward as she took another step back from me. I held my hand out towards her to let her know I wasn't going to hurt her and reached into the trunk. I gripped the handle of her bag, and, in one swift motion, I pulled the first and then the second bag that were in the trunk. I smiled at her and carried them a few steps to the door of her room and set them inside the open door. Next thing I knew, she was standing beside me looking inside.

  "You know, after all this, I'm beginning to think you may have a crush on me, that you've been following me perhaps," I teased, hoping to get a laugh out of her, but she didn't say anything. She just continued looking around the room, and then looked over to my door. She looked exasperated, stressed, and tired, and then those big blue eyes of hers met mine. They weren't as bright as they were the other night; they were actually very dark in color, as I really studied them, my eyes then falling to her lips. I could tell she was about to say something, so I waited, but as soon as she went to open her mouth, she burst into tears instead.

  Chapter 10

  Katy

  I had held onto everything for so long that in one swift moment, without any control over myself, the tears just started to pour. Sobs literally shook my body as I buried my face in my hands. I could hear Jonas' words in the back of my mind. He was screaming at me to stop the fucking crying. Only weak people cry. Within seconds of remembering those harsh words, I got a grip on myself and wiped my eyes, and it was almost as if they had never started.

  I looked up through blurry tear-filled eyes at Derrick. He stood there watching me, looking uncomfortable as if maybe he should run the other way. I wouldn't blame him if he did; it would be better for him in the long run.

  I had been so determined to hate him because I thought he was exactly like Jonas. Only, in less than five minutes, I could already see that he wasn't anything like him. Jonas had never and would never voluntarily help me with anything. He got off making me ask, making me beg instead, before he would even lift a finger. He always wanted to remind me who was in charge and that every single second of every single day I needed him, would always need him, and that without him I was nothing. I'm sure that the reason I broke down was because Derrick had shown me kindness, not because I was afraid of him.

  I blinked, and he stood there looking at me. I could tell he was trying to figure out how to handle me. I was a blubbering mess, and he had just paused for a moment and given me time to gather myself. He really should have just left me there because I wasn't even sure how to handle me or calm myself at this point, but he surprised me. Instead of running, he placed his large, warm hands on my shoulders and placed his finger under my chin, gently forcing my head up so I could look him in the eyes.

  "I will be right back. Why don't you go inside and sit down in the chair." When I didn't move, he slowly guided me over to the chair in my room, one large hand on my shoulder, the other resting on my waist. I sat down, pulling my legs up underneath me. He went into my bathroom and came back carrying the toilet paper roll and handed it to me. "Sorry, there was no tissues." He shrugged. "I'll be right back."

  He left the door to what was to be my new home wide open, which suddenly made me feel very vulnerable. What if Jonas was out there, lurking, just waiting for his chance to strike and get me? I had just about worked myself up into another panic attack when Derrick came back in through the door and handed me a bottle of water.

  "I'm sorry, I don't have...anything. This isn't even cold. I just bought the case of water." He sighed, sitting down across from me, cracking the seal on his bottle and taking a sip without taking his eyes from me. He looked almost as if he had let me down, but he hadn't. He had shown me more kindness and support in the last five
minutes than Jonas had shown me in the last five years.

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It was almost a struggle to even speak. "Thank you," I whispered, opening the bottle and taking a sip. "How are you feeling?" I asked, putting the cap back on the bottle.

  "All right, I guess. Still badly bruised in the kidney area." He shrugged. He moved from where he was sitting on the end of the bed to the floor down in front of me. He crossed his legs and looked up at me.

  I leaned forward and brushed my fingers over his eyebrow where the stitches should have been. "The stitches, they're gone. They should still be in there. Did you remove them yourself?"

  He nodded. "I did." He grew quiet and sat there staring up at me. "What did I do earlier that upset you so?" He frowned, trying to figure me out. "Or...is it not me at all?"

  I licked my lips and wiped the tears from my eyes. I took a minute to think, trying to figure out how to tell him. This was going to be hard to share, since my co-workers didn't even know. I was so ashamed with myself at letting something like this go on that it had become an embarrassment. I dealt with young girls like this a million times in the hospital, and I always told them it was nothing to be embarrassed about. I would always assure them that it wasn't their fault either, but that was long before I knew what it felt like to be on the other side of the fence, and then I realized that what I told them was far easier said than done.

  I swallowed hard, since I hadn't shared my situation with anyone except my close friends and that doctor I had worked for. It was hard to find the words. I wouldn't have shared it with the doctor if he hadn't guessed.

  As I sat there looking at Derrick, I really had no idea how to even begin to tell him. He was basically a stranger to me, and I really wanted to maintain my pride. The longer he sat there looking into my eyes, the weaker I became. I needed someone in my life. I had been on my own long enough. However, the longer the words played back in my mind, the more I became afraid that he would leave. People always seemed to leave once they found out, whether by choice or through no fault of their own. I let out a breath. I really didn't even know why I cared about what he thought, but for whatever reason, I did.

  "I'm...I'm on the run." The words fell from my lips in an almost silent whisper, and so did a ton of weight from my body from just that little confession.

  He smiled. "You don't look like the kind of girl who would run from the law."

  I knew he was just trying to make me laugh and calm me down, but I remained serious.

  "I wish it were that." I admitted, "Somehow, I think that would be easier. I'm on the run from my ex." I frowned, reaching for my purse that sat on the table beside me. I rooted through the bag. I had kept a picture of Jonas, not because I wanted to remember what he looked like, but because I figured I might need it for the police or something. "This guy, Jonas," I said, finally pulling the picture from my purse and holding it out for him to take.

  He reached and took the picture from me, his rough fingers grazing mine. He looked down at the tiny photograph. "Well, I can honestly say it's not a wonder why you hated me on sight." He looked back down at the photo, studying it for a second time, closer this time, almost as if he were memorizing it. "Let me guess, roids, right?" He handed me back the picture, and I put it back in my wallet.

  "Well, you figured it out before I did, and I'm a nurse." I muttered, "Makes me feel sort of foolish and stupid." I zipped my purse closed and sat back, taking another sip of the warm water, trying to let myself relax.

  "Why does it make you feel foolish? These guys aren't always easy to spot."

  "Because you would think with my training I would have picked up on it." I shrugged.

  "Listen, it's human nature. We never want to see the bad in someone we care about, and addicts are awesome liars. Don't blame yourself." He sighed and got quiet for a moment as I studied his eyes.

  "Sounds like you've got experience with that," I whispered.

  He nodded and set the water bottle on the floor beside him, leaning back on his hands. "My brother, he eventually overdosed on heroin. We all knew he had gotten mixed up with some bad people, but he insisted he was fine, so we looked the other way. Unfortunately, he wasn't fine, and after he was gone, I carried a lot of guilt, until I basically watched my mother waste away due to the guilt she carried. I'm all that is left, and I refuse to let what happened affect me like that. There was nothing I could have said or done to save him." He shrugged. "So believe me when I say it's not your fault."

  "Wow, Derrick, I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. We grew up in a rough neighborhood, and things were handled differently. It could have been me, instead, had I chosen a different path. I just thank my stars every day that it wasn't, and I know now that his choices were not my fault."

  I watched his expressions as he finished talking. "I am sorry, Derrick," I murmured. It was all I could get out. I meant it, losing someone was hard, especially a sibling. I had seen it throughout my short career. The pain never left.

  "How long have you been on the run?" he asked, looking up at me, changing the subject.

  "I left the Midwest a few weeks ago. I had to sneak out while he was at the gym. Friends of mine helped me pack everything up. When he returned to the house that morning, he went ballistic. I know my neighbor called the police on him, but after that, I know nothing of what happened. All I know is that if I hadn't left when I did, he would have eventually killed me."

  "He hit you?" Derrick asked, getting a little agitated.

  I slowly nodded, the tears beginning to fall again as I thought back to the last time it had happened. "The last time he hit me, he left me with two black eyes and some severely bruised ribs, which are still sore if I move the right way," I said shyly.

  Derrick didn't say anything; he sat their contemplating something. I couldn't tell now if he was going to walk out the door or not. "Do you think he is after you now?"

  I nodded, looking at Derrick through blurry tear-filled eyes again. "I thought I would be safe and that I had done everything right and covered my tracks enough. I opened up all new e-mail and online accounts so he wouldn't be able to track me. I opened a new bank account so he couldn't track my money. I even changed all my pins for my credit cards. I registered my car here. I don't know what else I could have done to disappear," I whispered. "I even went as far to change my name legally. Well, my last name anyways. I was told you could do that if you were trying to hide. I just don't know how he has found me."

  Chapter 11

  Dagger

  I sat there on the floor of her room trying to digest everything that she had told me. It was a lot for me to take in. I never understood guys like him. Men who hit women were weak and they pissed me off because they gave guys like me a very, very bad name. Within those seconds that she had confided in me I could already feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Suddenly, I felt protective of her and had a strong need to keep her safe. I wanted to protect her from him, which probably stemmed from the fact that I hadn't been able to protect my brother. I couldn't think like that, though, because I hadn't really been given the chance to save him. I could definitely help Katy build a new life, though, and at least give her a fighting chance. I knew I could; I just needed a minute to think.

  "Do you by chance have a Gmail account?" I asked. She looked at me and nodded slowly. "Did you ever give him access to it?" She closed her eyes tight and once again nodded slowly.

  "He made me," she whispered. "He claimed he wanted to keep me safe."

  "Did you do any research or send e-mails about moving here while you were logged into that Gmail account?"

  Her eyes widened and she placed her hand over her stomach as if she were going to be sick. "Well, I did, but I used a private browser at the library." She sank back into her seat, looking defeated.

  "Sometimes a private browser works, sometimes not. Everything usually stays part of your google account history." I sighed.

  "My God, what am I going to do?" s
he asked, her voice shaking. "I'm the one who led him straight to me. How stupid could I be?"

  I could see the well of tears rimming her eyes, and I placed my hand on her knee. "First, you aren't stupid. Now, let’s not panic. Let’s log into your old account and take a look. I'll show you. We will see what we have and see if maybe we can't plant a seed to send him in another direction, that way it will bide you some time and you won't have to leave. Then we'll get you a new e-mail."

  "Okay," she whispered, getting up from her seat and crossing the room.

  My eyes followed her. She was an attractive girl and I couldn't help but check out her ass in her tight jeans as she grabbed a blue bag and brought it back over to where we were sitting. She smiled at me as she pulled the laptop from the bag. It was wrong in this situation to feel hopeful, but I wanted to get to know her better and, deep down in my gut, I didn't want her to have to go, which was terribly mean and selfish in light of the situation. I would do anything and everything I could to help her, even though she had made it clear the other night that she wanted nothing to do with me.

  She waited for the laptop to boot up and then began typing away. I just hoped that she would follow my directions.

  "All right, are you logged in?"

  "Yep."

  "Okay, do you see something that says ‘my activity page?’" She nodded. "Click on it."

  Her eyes widened as she looked at things on the screen. I got up on my knees beside her and rested my forearm on the arm of the chair. I pointed to the screen. "This tells him everything—pages you've visited, your location, things you've searched, even the ads you may have clicked on."

  She sat there staring at the screen in front of her. "I can't believe it. I really am stupid," she murmured.

  I ignored what she had said. It wasn't her. Most people knew nothing about this because, if they did, they would be much more careful about the things that they did online.