Chapter Thirteen
I lie on my bed, looking at the ceiling as time slowly passes by. Everything that has happened in the past couple of days has heightened my nightmares.
Typically, I can get through it easily when they become this persistent. It was either about Manzo’s basement or the night my mother died, but lately, I dream about Jeremy’s lifeless body and Manzo’s giant hands dragging me away from him, my screams piercing the air. I shutter as I recount the dream, touching each of my fingers to my thumb. I count as I try to focus my mind, a habit I can’t seem to break.
I roll onto my side, wincing at the pain in my broken rib, and look out at the skyline. It’s been my only source of entertainment. I’ve turned on the TV and stared blankly at it, unable to engage in the shows. I haven’t left this room in almost two days, and I’m starting to feel antsy.
My stomach grumbles, and I groan as I throw my pillow over my head and lay there for about a minute before the growling begins again.
“Okay!” I groan as I sit up and walk to my closet to throw something on.
I haven’t bothered changing clothes, so I’ve been in the same sweatshirt I wear to bed every night. It’s starting to smell even though I have showered at least six times. Every time I would close my eyes and drift off, I was startled awake in a cold sweat. Now that I’m completely alone with no distractions, my mind keeps the nightmares active even when I’m awake .
I yank the only casual dress I own off its hanger. It’s a blue knee- length dress with puffy sleeves. Since this is the only non-stripper outfit I own, I’m forced to go out in the close-to-freezing temperatures in it. I really need to invest in some clothing. I open the bag and calculate what I can spare.
Since I haven’t eaten for the past two days, I will have about forty extra dollars to work with. I pull out today’s allowance, then shut the door to the closet after grabbing my white sneakers. I give myself a once-over and roll my eyes at myself before leaving.
Coming across a thrift store only a few blocks from my hotel, I browse the racks. I don’t want to risk getting out of the busy part of town, but I also can’t afford the clothes the corporate idiots mark up in the square.
I browse the sweaters and only find a few that don’t have mystery stains on them. I decide on only keeping the thick black sweater. I find a pair of gray sweatpants with the original tag on them and a pair of black joggers. I wiggle my way through the crowded aisle to the men’s sweatshirts and pick the first one off the rack.
On my way to check out, I find a pair of sunglasses. I buy them even though I know they won’t do much, nothing will hide my face from the cameras. I thank the cashier and slip on the glasses as I leave the store. A cool breeze sweeps over me, blowing my hair in my face. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know this feeling.
I glance over my shoulder toward the store, but nobody is paying me any mind. I turn my attention back to the pedestrians in front of me as my heart begins to race. Without letting the person know that I can feel them watching me; I take slow, measured steps and peer into the store windows as if I’m still shopping.
I swallow hard as I glance at the store’s reflection to see a man standing on the other side of the road, leaning against the brick building. He’s wearing a hoodie and dark sunglasses, dressed head- to- toe in black. My eyes trail over his features for any sign of recognition, but I’m too far away to see anything more than a shadow.
He crosses the street at the crosswalk a little ways down, trying to stay out of sight, but I know all the tricks when it comes to this game. I know every dark corner of this city. He might view me as the meek prey, but he just stumbled upon a fucking predator.
Without another thought, I turn and continue walking leisurely. I stop at the first hotdog stand I come across and order a hotdog with ketchup and a pretzel. I wrap the pretzel in the paper and slip it into my bag for later.
I eat and walk, making sure to keep the man in my peripheral. He’s keeping himself out of sight for the most part and ensures he’s keeping his distance. I’m not sure if he’s trying to scare me or catch me. If it’s the latter, then he’s doing a shit job.
I work my way down a few streets to an old phone repair store. As I take the last bite of my hotdog, I roll the wrapper into a ball and shoot it like a basketball at the nearest trash can. I make it and smile a bit to myself as I open the door and enter the store.
I browse for a few minutes before picking out an old burner phone. Who would’ve thought they would still have flip phones in 2021? The phone itself costs ten dollars, so I add an extra twenty dollars for the minutes.
The windows outside the store are tinted, so you can’t see inside, which is part of the reason I decided to stop here. After checking out and making my way towards the door, I pause and search the streets.
I find the man about three stores down, leaning against the building on his phone. As if he knows I’m looking, he looks up, slipping his phone back into his pocket and crossing his arms over his chest. He keeps his head low enough so I can’t see past the shadows of the hood, but I can tell he is built .
“Do you have another way out of here?” I call to the man at the register.
“Not for public use.” He responds, and I grunt.
I pull my sunglasses back into place and push open the doors. I make an immediate right, going in the opposite direction of my new stalker.
I manage to walk down to Central Park and plop myself down on a bench. The man who has been following me settles himself on a bench at the entrance of the pathway. I lean back and allow myself a moment of peace, watching the different people enjoying their day.
The sun has begun to set, and with the autumn leaves beginning to form, I can’t help but take a mental picture. A skateboarder flies by while a couple laughs on a picnic blanket in the grass in front of me. I’m too far to hear what they are saying, but the way the man looks at her makes my heart swell. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around her.
The scene enraptures me, so much so that I jump when a man sits next to me. My head whips around to look at him. He’s a little older than me and has an apologetic expression plastered on his face. He looks oddly familiar, and it automatically puts me on edge. I scoot a few inches away from him, gripping the knife strapped to my thigh. My eyes swing to the man still seated on the bench, who has his eyes on his phone.
“Do you mind if I sit here? There aren’t any available seats.” He gestures to the rest of the benches, which are, in fact, taken.
I nod, and he gives me a small smile as the wind blows his blonde hair down into his face, and he quickly swipes it away. His hair falls just below his ear, with beach waves framing his square jaw. He’s tan, and his beard is full and trimmed. Other than the bruise on his cheek, he has no flaws.
I take the hair tie off my wrist and offer it to him. He glances down and gives me a soft smile as he reaches for it. The missing fingernails on his hand cause my heart to stop. I swallow and look back at the couple dancing to the faint music of the busker making his way down the path.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he pulls his hair up into a bun. His sweatshirt rides up his forearm, and I let out a breath of relief when I don’t see a tattoo. I focus my attention on the dancing couple and smile as the man twirls the woman. He dips her and leans down to kiss her, whispering something in her ear.
When they stand, his hand digs into his pocket, and he falls down onto one knee. The other people on the benches gasp as he mutters something only she can hear. She starts crying and clasps her hands over her mouth, frantically nodding, and engulfs him in a hug before giving him another kiss.
“I wonder what their story is.” The man sitting next to me says as he shifts in his seat.
I tilt my head as I look at them. “Mm, high school sweethearts?” “They look more like a one-night stand turned into a
relationship.”
“You think?” I ask as I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees and shrug. “I don’t see it. It’s too sweet for that.”
“Do you believe in that?” he asks, pointing to the couple. I furrow my brows at his question.
“In what? Marriage?”
He shakes his head. “Love.”
I laugh and focus on my bag. “I’ve never seen it be real.” I begin taking the tags off the sweatshirt. “What about you?”
“Not sure.”
I nod and slip the sweatshirt on. I go to tie my hair into a bun but realize I gave him my only hair band. I put the glasses on the top of my head and turn to face him. With his hair up, I can see a small tan earpiece in his left ear, and a shiver rolls up my body.
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say, standing and throwing the bag on my shoulder. “But I have places to be.” I give him a fake smile as I lower my glasses.
I look over my shoulder to see if the man at the entrance is still sitting on the bench, but when he’s not there, my heart plummets. I grip the bag tighter as I do a slow circle. When I do a full three- sixty, the man before me starts shaking his leg. I swallow hard.
“Are you looking for someone? I can help you find them.” He says as he stands.
I take a step back, and he furrows his brows. This guy is stupid if he thinks I don’t know who he is working with. I take another step back and bump into a woman, making her drop whatever was in her hands. I don’t bother looking or helping. Instead, I take off running.
I sprint through the park, pushing past people and trying to keep an eye on my surroundings. He could be anywhere. I turn the corner of the path and see a large opening. The crowd of people has grown, and most people are taking pictures in front of the mammoth-sized fountain.
I let out a frustrated groan. He could be one of the thousands of people here. How the hell am I supposed to keep an eye on one guy who seems invisible? I slow my pace, letting my senses take over. My ears perk up, and the hairs on my arms stand on edge.
“That’s it,” I whisper to myself. Earning a confused glance from the woman beside me. I push past her and scan the crowd. “Come on out. Come and get me.”
The hairs on the back of my neck join the rest on edge, and a cold chill runs down my spine. A small smile tugs at my lips. I don’t need to turn around to know that’s where he is. Don’t you just love survival instincts ?
I take a few more tentative steps forward when I hear a loud splash and a little kid’s cry come from my right. I quickly turn to face the noise. A perfect excuse to use my peripheral vision.
He’s so much closer than I thought he was. He stands only an arm’s length away. I don’t show him any sign of acknowledgment. Instead, I solely focus on the crying child. I search the crowd for a parent, not finding anyone coming to help the boy I quickly make my way over to him. Yes, to help him, but also to put a little distance from me and the psycho stalker.
“Hi buddy, are you okay?” I ask the kid.
He shakes his head and sniffles. “I lost my mom…” He begins to shake.
“Okay, well, I will help you find her, but first, let’s get you out of the fountain, Okay?” He nods and I extend my hand, helping him step over the ledge. His skin is cold to the touch, and his lips look like they are turning blue. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
“My mom said not to go anywhere with strangers.” He whispers, grabbing his elbows as he shakes harder.
I nod. “Of course.” I sigh and set down my bags next to him. I slip off my sweatshirt and hand it to him. He takes it greedily and slips it on. It nearly swallows him whole. “Do you know your mom’s phone number?” I ask as I search the crowd for any concerned parent who might be creeped out that some woman is talking to their son.
“Yeah.”
I let my smile brighten, “Perfect.” I pull out the burner phone I just bought an hour earlier. The boy mumbles his Mom’s number as I dial.
A woman picks up on the second ring. “Hello?” I can hear the panic etched into her voice.
“Hi, my name is Joey Baker. I think I found your son. ”
“Oh, thank god! Where are you?” She practically screams it into the phone.
“Central Park at the fountain.”
“Okay, I will be there in five minutes. Please don’t leave him.”
She hangs up, and I slip my phone back into my bag. I settle myself on the ledge beside him, locking what I think are eyes with the hooded man. He’s standing a few yards away, leaning against a tree.
“How old are you?” I ask the boy, breaking eye contact with the man.
“Nine.”
I smile. “What do nine-year-olds like to do these days? It’s been a while since I was that age.”
“I love Fortnite.” “What’s that?”
His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. “You don’t play Fortnite?!” He practically squeals.
“Never heard of it.”
He jumps onto his feet and starts to show me a few dances from the game. He forces me to try a few different moves, and we both laugh when I butcher them.
“Are you from here?” He asks after we’ve calmed down from our laughter.
“I am. Born and raised.”
He pouts, “My Mom just got remarried and forced us to move here with her new husband.” He sits back down next to me, putting his legs into the sweatshirt.
“Is he nice?”
He shrugs. “I guess, but he’s not my dad.' “Are you close with your Dad? ”
“No, he left when I was a baby. But I don’t want anyone else.”
I sigh. “You know, family doesn’t always mean blood. Family can be whoever you choose. I have three sisters and two brothers who aren’t related to me. They’re my family because I chose them. Just because he didn’t give you life, doesn’t mean he isn’t any less a father to you.”
He stays silent for a moment before he finally looks at me. “What if he’s mean? Back home, my friend’s dad remarried. His stepmom was really mean.”
“Well, in that case, you don’t have to accept him, but all adults will be mean at times. All you can do is trust yourself.” I give him another soft smile. “The best thing I can tell you is to keep your head up and don’t look for the bad because you will find it.”
He looks up at me through big brown eyes that tug at my heartstrings. “I ran away.” He whispers the omission, and tears begin to flow again.
“It’s okay. I know change is hard.” I get onto my knees, so I’m on his level. A cold chill runs down my spine as I realize I turned my back on my stalker. He won’t approach while I’m talking to a child… right? “But you can’t run away in a city like this. Maybe back home, but what if someone mean found you? Because there are a lot of people worse than your stepdad. Promise me that you won’t run away again. And if you have to because things are bad at home, you go to a safe place. A friend’s house or another family member’s. Do not wander this city alone. Okay?”
He nods and wipes his tears. “Okay.” He launches himself at me and hugs me tightly.
I close my eyes and enjoy the embrace. It’s been a long time since I had a hug like this. He pulls back when the phone in my bag begins ringing. I dig it out and flip it open, reading the unknown number.
“This is Joey.” I say as I answer the phone .
“I’m here. Where is he?” I recognize the woman’s voice as his mother’s.
“I’m not sure what entrance you used, but we are on the side of the fountain that looks into the trees.”
“Blue dress.” “Yes.”
She hangs up the phone, and I furrow my brows and scan the crowd, still ignoring the hooded man. I can feel his irritation growing. I slip the phone into my bra just as I hear the woman yell.
“Miles Reiley!” She storms toward us. The boy untangles himself from inside the sweatshirt and stands, not meeting her eyes. She lowers herself to his level and pulls him into an embrace. Similar to the one we just shared. “Where have you been? Do you know how worried sick me and Marcus were?” She pulls him back and looks him over from head to toe before hugging him again.
Marcus? Why does that name sound familiar?
“Thank you.” The woman says, cutting off my thoughts.
I nod. “Of course.” She lets go of her son and he turns, running towards me, hugging me again. I’m nearly knocked off balance but manage to catch my footing. “Hey,” I say, and he pulls back. “Promise me you will give it a chance. I would give anything to have two parents who cared this much about me.”
He nods. “I’ll give it a chance.” “Good. Have fun playing Fortnite!”
His mom laughs and shakes her head. “That damn game.” She looks back up to me with a soft smile, “Thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad Mr. Miles here is safe and sound.”
She nods and reaches for his hand, stopping when she looks over my shoulder. Her brows furrow, and her head tilts. “Ace?” She asks and I look over my shoulder to see the man bun guy walking up behind me.
I stiffen and walk over to my bags, settling them in their rightful places on my arm. With a wave goodbye to the boy and to his mom, I take off. This time, I run off the path and into the trees. There aren’t many, and it’s no forest, but I still have to make do.
Thankfully, even though the trees are practically translucent, the ground is even, making it a quick run. I pass a few clearings, a few people playing with a soccer ball, and I almost step in dog shit. You’ve got to love New York. I think about backtracking, knowing there is a subway nearby, and that’s always my go-to escape. Now, with a plan, I quickly stop and pivot, smacking face-first into a tree.
I stumble backward before landing flat on my ass. My heart stutters when I see a pair of shoes where the tree I just face-planted into should be. I slowly trail up the man’s body, stopping at his face. He is wearing nothing but a black mask that covers the lower part of his face and neck, leaving his eyes the only thing you can see. I slowly unclip my gun from its holster and aim it at the figure as I stand.
“Stop following me,” I say through clenched teeth as I take a few steps back. Putting more distance between us. “Leave me alone,” I say loudly.
The sun has begun to set, and people are beginning to clear out of the park. At least no civilians will be hurt if this goes sideways. The only source of light is coming from the lamps that line the path a few yards away. I try to look at his face, but it still remains nothing more than a shadow.
I huff out a breath of annoyance. This game is starting to get really old. “The last guy I had a standoff with was lucky because he was your boss.” I gesture to the tattoo that is hidden under his sweatshirt with my gun before training it on his head as I take another step backward. “I wouldn’t press your luck.” I cock my head, and I hear a low growl .
At first, I thought it was coming from a dog, but the man’s whole demeanor changes. If I thought he was going to hurt me before, now I know that if I don’t run, he will kill me. It was undoubtedly the wrong thing to say. It feels like he’s grown three feet taller.
I leave my gun pointed at him and slowly begin to walk backward, getting myself out of reach. When I'm a safe distance away, I turn and run. I don't look back.
I bolt for the stairs that lead down to the subway, and I get on it. I don't care where it's going. After a few stops, I get off and hop on another train back to Times Square. Even when I'm near Times Square, I keep running around the city like a mad woman. I run until I feel the pit in my stomach lessen. It takes over two hours for that feeling to finally fade.
By the time I get back into my hotel room, I am panting and covered in sweat. I lean my head against the closed door and close my eyes as I catch my breath.
“What the fuck.” I whisper to myself.
I push off the door and throw my gun onto the bed. I’m still wearing this damn dress, and when I try to reach my hand behind my back to reach the zipper, I groan. I stomp towards the mirror and look over my shoulder as I try and fail to reach it. My shoulder is still sore from being dislocated, so the angle is a bit painful.
I practically rip the dress off, which isn’t the smartest thing to do. I lost my backpack and everything I bought today. All I have left is what I had put on at the park, the now ripped dress, and the two dresses hanging in my closet.
I throw the dress in the trash as I start the shower. Walking back into the room, I grab the towel off my floor, and slam the bathroom door shut.
I turn into a prune. I’ve been in the shower for what feels like ages. I’m definitely taking advantage of the infinite hot water. As I’m getting the last of the suds out of my hair, I hear a loud thud coming from outside the bathroom door.
My heart stops.
I listen again without turning off the water, but I hear nothing. I swallow as I slowly get out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself. I look at the counter, hoping I brought the gun in here with me. I internally curse myself as I grab the knife from the strap I discarded on the floor.
I slowly turn the door handle and peer out of the bathroom. I furrow my brows when I don’t see anyone. I slowly step out of the bathroom and press my back to the closet door as I peer around the corner. Nobody.
“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself as I lower myself to the ground and lift the covers so I can get a better look under the bed. Again, empty.
I shake my head and toss the knife onto the bed.