14
I was running late to meet Judith, the police overseer of the Witness Protection Program I was under. The meeting was at an unfamiliar address at a restaurant in Gothenburg city center, so I had to map my bus routes before I left. Breathing a sigh of relief at being offered a job at that swanky Savile Gentleman’s club that my money woos will soon be over, even though I don’t start until next week
I found it odd that Betty, my soon-to-be boss, barely asked me any questions at the interview before ushering me out the door, and I was convinced that she could tell that I was underage using a fake ID. Then, out of the blue, she called me and asked me to come back to pick up my uniform to start next week, and still no questions asked. But at least I’ll be paid a regular wage, although the wage of a kitchenhand was not that high, but perhaps I could climb up the ranks and one day sit up in the top office, overseeing the entire club.
Oh, but the dilemma was that I applied for the job under the fake name of Petra Black, so climbing up the ranks might not be possible.
Speaking of fake, I walked briskly past the Student Job Search in the admin boulevard, and who did I spot? Cheetos, my twin, is waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting student who needs a fake ID to apply for a job or to enter a bar or club—the perfect place for Cheetos to lure business. If I had time, I would’ve stopped to chat with her, but I bet she’d run away because she was more antisocial than I.
Anyway, the job was done. I got what I wanted and thanked her later for it, but I did fear that I would dig myself into a deeper hole by having a fake name to cover my other fake name. Jeez, I might need to hire a personal assistant to remind me which name I should use at any moment.
The bus rolled down the road just as I arrived at the stop, and I clambered on with about twenty other students. When I found my seat, I reviewed my work schedule at Savile: four shifts from 4 PM until 8 PM to cover the restaurant's busiest time. I didn’t see the restaurant, bar, or dance area, but Betty walked me through the casino hall, returning memories of the club in Larsson that the Kaisers owned.
My phone beeped, a message from Scream Creep flashed up, and I scolded myself for being both pleased and annoyed that he had contacted me. Yep, I was desperate for connection and company, and I’d take even this stalker guy, who might be Shaun or one of the other boneheads he associated with.
Scream Mask Freak: Where r u going?
A shiver snaked down my spine, and I discreetly looked behind at what looked like mostly students filling the bus seats, heads down, scrolling on their phones. It’s impossible to get a good view of everyone, but he wasn't making it obvious if he was on the bus with me.
Three guys in the back seat looked like freshmen, chatting quietly but more interested in what was on their phones than me. This was a guessing game for me and a taunting game for Mask Freak, or maybe I should change his name to Stalker Freak.
Me: Where r u?
I carefully scanned the bus and pricked my ears, waiting for a notification indicating that Freak was one of the many people on the bus and had just received my message. My heart coiled when a loud peep came from the bus's back. I glanced over the back of my seat, trying to catch someone opening a new message, but it was impossible to tell since everyone at the back end of the bus had their heads down scrolling.
Then my phone beeped, and I jumped out of my skin. Carefully, shaking my hands, I swiped open the message.
Scream Mask Freak: Watching u.
There was laughter at the back of the bus, and I turned back to see if they were collectively playing tricks on me, just for fun. There’s nothing more fun than scaring the shit out of a lone woman. Assholes. If Gunner were here, he’d sort this out by chasing down the stalker freak-masked dickhead and turning his head inside out. I’d seen Gunner do that before, beat the crap out of a boy who harassed me every single damn day. He was in one of my classes, and every day, he'd pull my hair or send me lewd notes.
Then, one day, he cornered me in the narrow space between the sports stadium and the locker rooms, and…he tried to finger me. Gunner caught him in the act, and it was like a dangerous predator emerged from my foster brother that I hadn’t seen before. His pupils dilated, nostrils flared, fists clenched, and when that right hook slammed into the guy’s face, blood splattered over the wall of the stadium. One punch was enough, but Gunner kept pummeling him repeatedly with brutal strength under a dark spell.
It was me who had to pull him away from that guy, and it was Mr. Kaiser who had to pay for the guy’s medical bills and plastic surgery after Gunner mangled his face.
From that point onward, I had a newborn respect for Gunner but feared him. He was his father’s son – perilously sinister and fiercely territorial, but unlike his father, Gunner had yet to learn the art of control.
Learning to control fury and cool rage came with age, life experience, and being powerful enough to hire someone else to do your dirty work. Gunner was nineteen now. The same age as me. He was a good-looking boy with pretty dark eyes, peering at me under a thick head of raven hair, and he’d make a handsome, impressive man. Jealousy stirred in my stomach as my imagination traveled to a place that I hated, the home of torture and despair, the worst place in the world - where he was holding hands with a beautiful girl - happy and free without me. Hell.
I focused on the scenery out the window, searching for my stalker freak. I had no idea what he looked like, nor was I sure I wanted to see what he looked like. Swallowing back my fear, I kept the macabre conversation going, partly to cure my curiosity but mostly because I hated the thought of him having power over me.
Me: Show yourself
The bus pulled up to a stop, and five or six students hopped off. Another three climbed on while I searched their body language and movements, every smile and hand movement, every swipe of their phones, and every flicker of an eye to see if anyone showed even a fleeting interest in me. I was disappointed to find no giveaway clues on their faces, but Stalker Freak could be a well-trained master in disguise.
He could be the nerdy boy sitting alone in front of me or one of the chatty girls sitting behind me. Or maybe he was the bus driver or the older man reading a book sitting directly behind the bus driver, or he could be all three of those guys sitting at the back of the bus. Which one drew the short straw to wear the Scream Mask and chase me across campus?
But the most important question that might never get answered was…why me? Why choose me?
The bus increased speed toward the next stop, where I got off. Then I’d have to walk another ten minutes to the steak restaurant called Nero’s. The phone was burning in my hand, apprehensive yet eager to see his reply. Was the game up? Was he prepared to move forward? And what would happen if he did?
Scream Mask Freak: I’m here. Watching u.
Part of me didn’t believe him, but instinctively, I swung around and glared at the boys at the back of the bus, who weren’t even looking in my direction. They were relaxed in their seats, staring at their phones, and I think they were playing games, but they had no interest in paying me any attention.
Me: Where? Show yourself. Or r u a coward?
The bus finally pulled up at my stop, and I allowed the four students who got up to leave first to watch the body language of those left on the bus to see if they’d go because I was. I thanked the bus driver, jumped off the bus, and hesitated to see if anyone would follow me. They’d be walking right into the hornet’s nest if my stalker was here because I was walking directly to Judith, an armed, plain-clothed police officer.
I started my walk to the end of the busy street, keeping one eye on the shop's glass windows as I passed to spot anyone looking in my direction without seeming obvious. When I arrived at the end of the block to turn left, I looked behind me to check if anyone was following but was greeted by a large empty space between me and an elderly couple walking along with a small dog on a lead. I seemed very much alone, but letting my guard down that easily is unwise.
I arrived ten minutes late because I got lost. I had walked past the restaurant three times before I realized it was above a hunting and fishing store, with access through a narrow doorway leading to narrow stairs. Judith likely chose an inconspicuous restaurant deliberately and a table in a private corner so no one could hear what we were saying.
Constantly glancing behind me, I ran up the stairs and opened the door into a warm rustic environment and a smiling reception that escorted me to the far end of the restaurant.
My stomach rumbled as the tantalizing scent of garlic bread and barbequed meats infiltrated my senses. I didn’t think I was that hungry until I arrived here. It was great to see Judith's smiling face as she’d become a friend and ally and someone I trusted wholeheartedly.
“I won’t get up,” Judith said, then patted her bulging stomach.
“Oh? Congratulations. I didn’t know…” I delighted in her situation, but, weirdly, I never imagined Judith to have an everyday life with a husband and children, probably because her role in my life was purely from a protective and professional stance.
“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you,” she said, dismissing my embarrassment for not knowing.
I leaned down to hug her, but she was so pregnant that she could barely move to hug me back. “When are you due?” I exclaimed, pleased to push the stalker freak to the back of my mind, especially when I spotted the gun holder in the seat beside her, loaded with a Glock. Stalker Freak would be dead meat if he came close to us now.
The waiter came over to take our orders, and after he left, I broke the bubble of apprehension by asking, “So, is this important news related to your pregnancy?”
“Yes,” she smiled, rubbing her stomach. “Let’s jump right into the crux of the matter. I’ll be on maternity leave for six months starting next week.”
Mixed feelings coiled through my body. On the one hand, she had a right to a happy life, but on the other hand, I relied so much on her support that I wasn’t sure how I would handle six months without it. The reason I was still alive was that she organized a family to home me in an undisclosed location and a new pseudonym.
She added to make me feel better, “I’ll still be there in the background if you need to contact me.”
“I guess the apron strings had to be cut some time,” I tried to lighten the situation, even though it terrified me. “And I got a job too to help with my finances.”
“That’s good, Annika,” placing her hand over mine. “But I won’t be leaving you in the lurch. Sergeant George Tindale will be stepping into my position until I return after maternity leave.”
“Tindale?” His name was vaguely familiar.
“Yes,” she explained as the waiter brought over our drinks. “He’s one of my colleagues and was part of the team that organized safeguarding when we evacuated you from the Kaiser household in Larsson.”
“I think I remember him. Is he nice…I mean…is he easy to confide in?” After three years of hearing Judith’s calm voice down the line, I’m unsure how I felt about a man I barely know being there instead. But…life did not revolve around me and my minor problems.
“Do you remember when we stowed you away in the black undercover police vehicle…the man in the back with you was Seargent Tindale,” she clarified in that calm voice.
“Oh yeah, I remember.” It was a blur. After all, I was so distraught and guilt-ridden because I realized I made a drastic mistake and I couldn’t go back. The damage was done. “He seemed nice.”
“Anyway, Seargent Tindale will contact you in the next couple of days to touch base, so if there are any problems, you can let him know,” she sipped her Sprite as my mind circled with a hundred and one thoughts. “It’ll be okay, Annika.”
I forced a smile to assure her that I was fine, even when I sensed something baffling around me. Someone broke into my room, wrote TRAITOR on the door, and rubbed it off. That could be explained as a mistaken identity since I had just moved in. Then the stalker creep in the Scream mask could also be explained away as a student braindead student who had the urge to target a lone nerd for fun. This was nothing new. Everyone knew the kid in class who everyone picked on for no reason. It was a cruel world, particularly for those who were the runt of the litter or had a poor start to life.
It was on the tip of my tongue to inform her about the stalker and show her his messages, but his entire rhetoric was teasing and taunting, harmless fun to entertain the stupid. If he’d sent death threats, then that’d be a different story. And really, it looked as if Judith had enough on her plate than worry about some random dumbass jock.
So I stuffed down this secret, hoping it would go away on its own. Maybe he’d grow bored and find someone else to stalk and frighten, yet that thought also annoyed me. He was the only person on campus I was having conversations with since Shaun the dickhead turfed me out of his frat house. The stalker was the only person who knew I existed, or more accurately, knew Riley Laws existed, and part of me liked the attention.
He saw me, and instead of ignoring me like most people do, he did something about it. Okay, so it was dumb what he was doing, but hell, Scream Freak Stalker was filling a gaping hole of loneliness. Yep, I know. Only a deadbeat saddo like me would hunger for the attention of a stalker, who…could be a serial killer for all I knew.
“Are you okay with all this?” Judith asked, breaking my chain of stupid thoughts. “You seem distant.”
“Oh,” I waved my hand dismissively as our steak dinners were served. “I was just thinking about everything I had to organize for class next week.”
“That’ll keep you occupied then,” she insinuated that perhaps I worried too much. She was right.
“Yes,” I answered, picking up my fork and steak knife to cut a slice of juicy, garlicky meat.
“And tell me about your new job?” she asked. “Is it working in the local food store?”
I chewed the piece of meat, giving me time to invent a story. “Washing dishes in a café.”
“That’s a good start onto the career ladder,” she stated. “What’s the name of the café?”
Oh gosh, I had to think fast. Savile was the name of the club. Whatever you do, don’t tell her that name because she might look it up and realize that she must’ve used a fake ID to work there. I spotted a name on the steak menu and stole that to add to the lie.
“Porterhouse Café,” I replied, avoiding her eye.
“Porterhouse?” she questioned as her eyes flicked to the menu.
I knew Judith long enough to see that she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push for the truth because even a girl like me was allowed to have secrets.
“Yes,” I covered my mouth as I chewed.
There were several seconds of intense silence before she raised her glass of Sprite. “Here’s to new beginnings.”
I raised my Coke to toast her Sprite. “Here’s to leaving the past behind forever.”