Chapter 4 #3
Leon takes me down the hall to the living room and leaves me there. “I’ll grab my keys and then we can go.”
Rosie is sitting on the living room carpet among a pile of blocks. She’s wearing a cute little ruffled top and shorts in pale blue, and her golden curls are shining. She breaks into a smile when she sees me. “Lay-na!”
Mrs. Kerr, the nanny, helps Rosie toddle across the room toward me, and then the little girl reaches both arms up to me. I can’t resist her adorable smile, and I scoop her up for a cuddle.
“Look at you walking. That’s such good walking,” I tell her with a big smile.
Mr. Grant approaches my side. “Rosie’s getting stronger every day.”
“Isn’t she? Every time I see her, she’s a tiny little bit more grown up.”
While I’m holding Rosie, he kisses her curls. He’s standing so close, and my stomach flip-flops as his hand grazes my arm.
“Are you free to babysit next Tuesday night?” he asks me, his eyes flicking up to mine.
I have trouble thinking when he’s standing this close to me. I can’t remember my schedule, and I don’t bother trying. I just smile and say, “I’m free. I’ll see you at five.”
“Come on, Elena. Let’s go.” Leon reappears and puts his arm around my waist.
I turn around to give Rosie back to the nanny, and I can see Mr. Grant’s reflection in the mirror that’s hanging on the wall. He’s glaring at where Leon is touching me, his brows drawn together. I study the expression, wondering what it means.
Is he jealous?
I dismiss that ridiculous thought. Of course Mr. Grant isn’t jealous of his own son. He’s probably thinking it’s too complicated that I’m dating Leon and also babysitting Rosie. I hope I’m not going to lose this job.
“Bye, Mr. Grant,” I say uncertainly as Leon leads me toward the door. “See you Tuesday.”
His brow clears, and he returns my smile. “See you then, Elena. Rosie will be looking forward to it.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief as I get into Leon’s car. It sounds like I’m not getting fired, for now at least. Good things never seem to last for long.
Leon takes me for a walk along the seafront, which looks so pretty all lit up, and there’s the sound of waves crashing on the sandy shore, then we get pizza for dinner.
I don’t have a lot of news to share with Leon because I’ve been working so much, but I tell him how I’m looking forward to visiting my friend Justine’s new apartment.
She’s the waitress at work I’m closest to, and she always commiserates with me when our boss treats us like crap.
She doesn’t understand why Archer had a sudden change of heart and has stopped docking our hours for petty reasons, and neither do I.
We both wondered why his nose was swollen and red when he fixed his “mistake” and handed out additional pay envelopes.
I do talk about looking after Rosie, and I assume Leon will be interested because she’s his sister.
“Mr. Grant has been so kind and thoughtful,” I tell him as he drives me home. “You and Rosie are so lucky to have a father like him. ”
Leon shrugs, and I realize his interest has faded. “Yeah, sure. But you don’t have to go on about it.”
Am I going on about it? I thought I was just talking. Maybe Leon doesn’t understand that having a happy, safe home where people love and support you is a big deal, and it shouldn’t be taken for granted.
Outside my apartment, Leon turns toward me, and we make out for several minutes. He reaches for my breasts, and my eyes open. The clock on the dashboard reads twenty past midnight.
I gasp and pull away. “How did it get so late? I have to get to bed. I have an early shift tomorrow. I’ll see you later, Leon.”
I get out of the car, and I hear him sigh as I close the passenger door behind me.
I’ve screwed up.
Justine gave me thorough directions on how to get to her new apartment, but I’ve still managed to take a wrong turn. Now I’m wandering around an unfamiliar area with a potted fern that’s a housewarming gift tucked under my arm.
Take the subway south and get off at Fenrick. Take the first left when you get out at the station, then right at the fork…
None of the directions made sense when I came out of the station, but I followed them as closely as I could, and now I feel completely turned around, and I don’t know where I am. I glance at a sign over a shuttered shop. Fenton Liquor.
Fenton, not Fenrick.
My heart sinks. I must have gotten on the subway going the wrong way. I don’t have the best sense of direction, and I’m not the best at navigating public transit.
Panic flashes through my stomach when I notice that there are men staring at me as I walk along the darkened streets. They stand in clusters of twos and threes, leaning on their cars, smoking cigarettes outside seedy-looking bars.
I pull out my cell phone and check the map again, but the service is bad here, and the little blue dot that’s supposed to tell me where I am keeps jumping around.
I turn on the spot, trying to get it to tell me where I am, but it accomplishes nothing and I’m signaling to everyone far and wide that I don’t know where I am.
I call Justine, hoping she can help me find my way back to the subway, but she doesn’t answer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see two men veer toward me from the opposite side of the street. They have their hands deep in their pockets in a way that makes me wonder if they’re holding weapons, because they couldn’t possibly be cold in this mild weather. My panic rises as I call Leon.
“Hey, babe. How are you?”
I can hear the sound of a car, so he must be driving. My words come out in a rush. “I think I went the wrong way on the subway. I wanted to get off at Fenrick, but I ended up in Fenton.”
“You’re in Fenton? Yeah, you’re totally on the wrong side of town,” he says with a laugh.
Despite my fear, I feel a spark of annoyance. I thought it was obvious I’m afraid, and yet Leon is laughing at me.
A deep voice beside Leon says, “Did Elena just say she’s in Fenton?”
Mr. Grant. I feel my insides shrivel up in embarrassment.
I want Mr. Grant to think I’m a smart, capable young woman, and that I’m responsible enough to look after his daughter.
He probably has zero tolerance for young women doing stupid and careless things like getting off at the wrong subway station.
“Yeah, Dad,” Leon says with a gusty sigh. To me, he says, “Babe, just turn around and head back the way you came.”
Leon knows I don’t like being called “babe.” It sounds careless, which is exactly how I don’t like to be treated.
“I don’t know where the subway is, and the blue dot on my map keeps jumping around.” Am I being whiny and demanding? The men approaching me are getting closer, and the fear I’m feeling is very real.
I hear Mr. Grant’s voice over the line. “We’ll go get Elena. Give me the phone, Leon.”
A tiny bud of hope blooms in my heart.
“Dad, are you for real?”
“I said give me the phone, Leon.”
“But we’re going to the game. ”
There’s the sound of a truck engine shifting down in gear and scuffling noises. Leon exclaims, “Dad, what the—”
A car door slams, and then a voice that’s not my boyfriend’s speaks into my ear. “Elena? It’s Cullan.”
Did he just throw Leon out of his truck? I hear the engine race as it picks up speed.
“Where’s Leon?”
“He was being argumentative and wasting time. I’m coming to get you.”
Tears prickle my eyes. “Thank you,” I manage in a choked whisper.
“Keep talking to me. Don’t hang up the phone.”
Wild horses couldn’t make me let go of this lifeline. “There are two men walking toward me. They’re smiling at me, but they’re not nice smiles.”
“Walk away from them. It doesn’t matter in which direction. Somewhere well lit. I’ll find you.”
I do as he says, walking quickly up a residential street away from the men. “Why did you ask is Elena in Fenton like it’s a bad thing?”
“Everything’s going to be okay. I’m coming as fast as I can. Just keep talking to me.” He sounds calm and reassuring, which makes me wonder if I’m in horrible danger.
“Mr. Grant, maybe I should call the police.”
“No,” he says sharply. “Do not hang up the phone. And those men cannot hear you talking to the cops.”
I take a shaky breath. “All right.”
“You have location sharing turned on, and I can see where you are on Leon’s phone. I can get you back to the subway station. You’re going to take the next left. Are you wearing high heels?”
He must be able to hear them clicking on the sidewalk. “Yes.”
“Is there any Mace in your purse?”
“Um, no.”
The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening.
I’m wearing high heels, and I have no self-protection.
Mr. Grant must think I’m na?ve. Several times over the past few years I’ve thought that I should carry something for self-defense, but I’ve never gotten around to buying anything. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’m so sorry, I’m ruining your evening.”
“You’re not ruining anything, Elena. Just keep walking and talking to me.”
“I don’t really know what to say. I feel so stupid right now.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing special. I was going to meet my friend at her new apartment. I bought her a fern as a gift.”
“That sounds fun, Elena.”
I like the way he says my name. I have a vague idea it’s what 911 dispatchers and emergency workers do to keep a terrified person grounded.
“My aunts won’t think so. They’ll be angry I missed Mass tonight.”
“We can’t always be good boys and girls. Are you still being followed? ”
I glance over my shoulder, and I see that the two men are only a few yards behind me. My voice rises in panic. “Are you far away, Mr. Grant?”
“I’m not far.”
“Where?”
He hesitates. “Kinsey Bridge.”
My heart sinks. Kinsey Bridge is three miles away, and the traffic going over it is notorious.
“You’re going to get back to the subway station, go down the stairs, and wait for me by the turnstiles. There will be lots of people around. You’ll be safe.”
“Hey, bitch. Who are you talking to?” one of the men behind me calls out.
“You’re not from around here,” says the other man. “I’d remember that sweet ass.”
I glance over my shoulder and see that a third man has joined them. They all laugh at the fear that must be etched on my face. The street is deserted.
“Mr. Grant, I—I don’t know what to do.”
He speaks urgently, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the blood roaring in my ears.
One of the men grabs me, and I scream and drop my phone.