Chapter 3
Three
Dani
Picking up my bag and coat, I shout a goodbye to everyone in the kitchen before making my way out the front door. The night is cool, and I’m immediately glad that I thought to bring a coat today. The air has a slight salty scent to it, evidence of the ocean being carried on the breeze.
Putting in my headphones, I play my favorite album.
Content with the music playing in my ears, I reposition my bag and start the trek home.
This time of night, the town is bustling with activity.
The neon lights of the bars and taverns light up main street as the sun starts to set.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a safe-ish neighborhood, but I never want to be caught out too late taking my chances with the drunks stumbling from those establishments.
My walk is quick—less than ten minutes—and I’m sliding my key into the entryway door.
The private entrance into the building was one of the draws to it.
That and the insanely cheap rent. I don’t know if it had something to do with the overall assistance I received three years ago or if rent was really that low, but I tried not to think about it too much.
Unlocking my apartment, I flick on the lights to find Amzee walking into the kitchen, meowing her little head off. Setting my things on the table and my coat on the back of the chair, I walk over to her and lean down to scratch down her back.
“Hi, baby girl, want some dinner?”
Meow.
Everyone talks to their pets, right? I’m not the only crazy one?
Walking past the kitchen table, I reach down into her food container and pull out a cup of food, dumping it in her bowl before refilling her other bowl with fresh water, too.
“Alright, Amz, there ya go. Eat up.”
Dimming the kitchen light, I make my way through the little apartment and into my bedroom. I’m always quick to get out of my clothes after working at the diner, not wanting to smell like fried food longer than I have to.
After a quick shower, I apply lotion and body shimmer before putting on a flowy black summer sundress and sandals.
As I get dressed, my eyes catch on the picture on my nightstand.
Fucking Derek. I really need to get rid of that picture, but every time I say I’m going to, it just never happens.
I either forget or get distracted with something else.
Sometimes, I think it’s because I don’t have any other picture to fill the frame with.
I’d rather have the illusion of not being alone than the stark reminder that I really am alone.
I dated Derek for about five months, and up until a month ago, we were doing good…
until we weren’t. He started out as a charming guy, always opening my door or pulling out my chair, but the facade slowly faded as things became less casual and more serious.
He became controlling, constantly texting my phone while I was at work, or stopping by unannounced at both work and home like he was constantly keeping tabs on me.
Then I found out about his gambling addiction.
It scared me to be honest, so I ended things with him.
At first, he didn’t accept that, and his appearances became more and more frequent, until one day I threatened to call the cops on him.
He finally got the hint thankfully, and I haven’t heard from him since.
I walk over to my nightstand and tell myself to stop being a little bitch. If my date comes back here tonight, the last thing I should have on my nightstand is a picture of me with another man.
I open the back of the frame and take out the picture, ripping it up before placing the empty frame in the drawer. It will stay there until I have a new picture to fill it with, I tell myself. Maybe Melody has a picture of her and me to put in the frame…
Taking my hair out of the towel on my head, I shake out my hair and run a wide-tooth comb through it.
I learned pretty late in life that the key to maintaining waves and curls is the wide-tooth comb.
The sound of my buzzer jars me from my mundane thoughts, causing me to jump. Who the hell could that be?!
As I make my way to the foyer, I glance at the clock on the wall.
8:00 P.M. Please, lord, do not let it be Derek.
Turning on the camera for the front entrance, I peek to see who it could be.
I see a skinny, young man, maybe early twenties with brown hair, carrying numerous bags on each of his arms, almost as though he didn’t want to make a second trip to his car.
“Can I help you?”
“Hi, yes. I’m looking for Danielle Moore in apartment 2B.”
“That’s me,” I say hesitantly.
“Great, if you could let me in, I have your groceries here. I can bring them up to your door.”
What in the actual hell is going on?
“Sure...” I buzz the door, letting him into the building. Did I order groceries and forget about it? No… there’s no way. I distinctly remember my plan to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning.
Hearing a knock at my door, I undo the lock to open the door wide as I take in all the groceries that are set on the ground before me. He breathes heavily as he starts to pull out the receipt and a pen.
“Ummm, are you sure these groceries are for me?” I ask. I would feel bad if these were actually one of my neighbors and I just swept in and took them as my own.
“You are Danielle Moore, right? It says your name right here on my order form.”
“Yeah, that’s me. I just don’t remember ordering anything.”
“Look lady, I can’t take the groceries back. They’ve already been paid for,” he says, clearly frustrated now.
“No, no, it’s fine. I get it. I’ll take them.”
“Great, I just need you to sign here, please.”
Worried that my card was charged, I take a copy of the receipt to look over.
He leaves in a hurry and I quickly take stock of everything; there must be a dozen bags of groceries here.
How he managed to carry all these bags on his arms is beyond me, but it really takes the phrase two trips is for pussies to a whole other level.
I start to busy myself with putting away the groceries, inspecting each bag as I go.
There are quite a few of my favorite items, such as sushi rolls and the ingredients for root beer floats.
Confused all over again, I walk back to the kitchen table and pick up the receipt.
The order was placed around 3:00 P.M., but next to the order name is just my name.
The last four of the card number are not ones I’m familiar with, so not my card then.
Also, at 3:00 P.M. I was still working at the diner, so definitely not placed by me either.
I start to worry all over again. Could this have been from Derek?
I don’t know his card numbers to know for sure if it was him or not.
The last thing I want to do is open a line of communication to ask him either because what if it wasn’t him?
He’d think I was just trying to talk to him again. No, I can’t ask him.
I have no choice but to accept the groceries and move on with my night. Seeing that I have no other option, I finish putting away the groceries—I can’t be late to this date.
My date started at a coffee shop down the road before we left to get a bite to eat, but the entire time we’re out at dinner, I swear I feel eyes on me.
It sends chills racing down my spine and I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, scanning the crowd at the restaurant.
My date, Tim, can tell something is off with me, making the entire date awkward at best.
Tim has been nice enough; he talks about himself a lot, though.
He’s about five foot eight, lanky, and wears really nerdy glasses, which I actually like.
It suits him. He’s not the usual type of guy I go out with, hell we are polar opposites if I’m being honest. He’s a tech nerd, and I’m the tattooed, pierced, emo chick.
My usual taste, well, I always resort back to those blue eyes.
“So, as I was saying, the tech firm has really grown this past year and I’m on my way to becoming partner. I think I’ll have the position in the bag by the new year… Are you even listening?” Tim asks, getting irritated.
I turn back to him, immediately annoyed with his tone, but I keep my own tone sweet. “Yes, I’m listening. You’re getting a promotion soon if the business keeps doing good.”
“No, I said I’ll be partner.”
I pull my napkin from my lap and put it down on the table. “Tim, you’re a really nice guy, and I’m sorry I’ve been distracted, but I think it’s time for me to go.”
I start getting up from the table, reaching into my purse to grab a hundred-dollar bill. Placing it on the table, I look to Tim. “There’s enough there to cover my tab and tip. I apologize.”
Tim looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “OK, are you sure I can’t convince you to stay for dessert?”
“The offer is very sweet of you, but I’m afraid I can’t stay. I’m sorry.” I leave before he can protest any further.
I always choose places that are walking distance from my apartment for this exact reason.
If I need to escape the date, I don’t have to rely on a ride home, I can just walk.
And it means I don’t get caught in awkward silence on the drive, or worse, get caught in a car with a man with ulterior motives.
As I start to walk back to my apartment, the voices and sounds of the restaurants and bars fade to nothing as I get farther away and closer to home. The sound of footsteps soon fill up the space behind me and I quicken my pace. I look over my shoulder, but no one is there. That’s weird.
When I reach my apartment building a few minutes later, I can’t escape the sense of eyes on my back. Taking a quick peek around, I see nothing. But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t hiding in the shadows.
Unlocking the door quickly, I push it closed behind me and take a deep breath.
Adrenaline courses through me, the feeling of fright hot on my heels.
It reminds me of when I was little and I thought there were monsters under the bed.
I’d run and leap onto my bed, snatching my feet up as quickly as I could, afraid the monster would grab my feet at the last second.
Getting that door open and getting in the building felt exactly the same.
As I walk into my apartment, a sense of relief comes over me.
I’m exhausted but looking forward to my weekend off of work.
In the bathroom, I take my sleep medication and change into my pajamas before heading to bed.
Happy to be in comfy clothes, I climb into the cool sheets, my thoughts racing as I think about Derek, the date, and a certain set of ocean-blue eyes.
Who was following me tonight, though? The same person that bought my groceries?
My medication soon pulls me under, and the last image I have in my head as I fight the pull is Kayden. He’s always my last thought before bed and my first thought when I wake up.
For three years, I haven’t been able to escape him.
And now he’s back.