Chapter 12 #2
She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it, and her bag, onto the back of her seat.
Her hair hung in tangles around her shoulders, a combination of the wind and rain wrapping them in tangles and clinging to her neck.
She reached for the hair tie wrapped around her wrist and gathered it into a messy ponytail, emphasis on the messy.
A little delighted sigh whizzed out of her when the cool air of the cafe greeted her heated skin after the humidity outside.
Pulling out her laptop and notebook, she set to work. But only after a few words tapped away on the keyboard, Sam’s mind began to drift.
You’ll run off anyone left to give a shit about you.
No, she was absolutely not going to let her aunt ruin her day.
Blinking a few times to snap herself out of it, Sam set back to work.
Her fingers flew over the keys as words poured out of her in a deluge.
If there was anything she could be grateful for, it was that, while her mind was preoccupied with everything she had going on, the words that started to pour of her never faltered.
It felt like a release in and of itself.
Right after her parents had died, her aunt had shoved her into one of those grief counseling sessions. It was just a single session, just to evaluate to make sure Sam was sane and wouldn’t cause trouble at home, or, at least, that was how her aunt had put it.
It was honestly the one good thing her aunt had ever really done for her.
The counselor had encouraged her, in the short time they had together that one summer afternoon, that if she was having a hard time expressing her emotions, she should try writing.
She had told her that she could write about what she was thinking, how she was feeling, write a letter to someone she was having a hard time confronting, or she could make up complete works of fiction to process those things. Basically whatever worked for her.
Sam often wished she could remember the name of that counselor, so she could thank her, as it not only turned out to be the thing she loved most and had made a career out of but it was just about the only way she could really get out her thoughts in a cohesive way.
She was so distracted by the story as it began to unfold in front of her that she didn’t notice someone settling into the spot across from her. “Did you know when you’re so focused on writing, you scrunch your nose a little? It’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Sam froze, recognition running up her veins like ice.
As if her day couldn’t possibly get worse, the universe saw that and decided to throw in a nice cosmic joke.
Paul shot her a crooked smile from across the table, causing her to reflexively flinch in her seat.
He looked the same as he had the last time she’d seen him, on that disastrous date.
The dark waves of his black hair were combed back neatly, the matching black thick-rimmed glasses perched over a pair of bright hazel eyes, now piercing her, as if he were trying to skewer her into place.
He was attractive—at least he had that going for him—but it had been his attitude and mannerisms that had initially turned her off.
“Paul… what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to force any fright out of her voice.
She refused to let him think he scared her, even if he really did right now.
This was confirmation enough for her to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Paul was following her.
It wasn’t just phone calls and texts anymore.
He leaned forward casually, as if they were old friends. “I wanted to see you. You won’t respond to me through calls or texts, so I thought I’d just join you for coffee.”
Sam cringed back in her seat, closing her laptop as she tried to discreetly begin packing her things away.
If Paul noticed, he made no indication. He simply watched her, enraptured, as if he were hung onto whatever words she offered.
But she’d met guys like him back in college, the ones who were so full of themselves that any hint of rejection would cause them to immediately turn sour.
“I think I was just about to leave,” she said, collecting her now packed bag in her hands.
“No, please don’t leave,” he said quickly, immediately reaching across the table and grabbing one of her hands. “I can’t stand not seeing you every day. You can’t leave now!”
Sam ripped her hand out of his grasp and quickly shimmied out of her seat. “Paul, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve told you that I don’t want to see you!”
She shot out of her seat, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she made her way toward the exit. She wasn’t sure where she was gonna go. She certainly didn’t want him following her home, but she wanted to put as much distance as she could between them.
Paul jumped up out of his seat and stood in her path, grabbing her arm, more firmly than he had her hand, and held her there in place. She winced under the pressure of his grip but tried to pull away from him. “Paul, let me go.”
“You can’t just walk away from me, Sam. You and I belong together! All you need is some time to realize that, and everything will be fine. Just give us a chance, I promise you’ll feel what I’m feeling too!” he huffed out, desperation leaking into his voice.
When she went to push him away, he snatched her other arm with the same pressure.
She’d been creeped out by him before, yes. The calls and texts had been extremely unnerving and had frightened her at just how persistent he’d been. But she thought she could handle it. She had been handling it. She’d sent those recordings and screenshots over to that cop she’d spoken to before.
It was now, however, with the intense gleam in his eyes, that she felt genuine fear.
Her eyes flashed over to the two baristas standing behind the counter, their attention fully on her, as if they’d already been keeping an eye on the situation.
As soon as her eyes met with the taller male barista, he leaned over to say a few words to the other barista, a teenage girl, and started making his way toward them.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked firmly, coming to stand next to Sam.
Paul, a good few inches taller than the barista, but level with Sam, puffed out his chest a bit and tried to shoot him a reassuring smile. “Oh, no, we’re fine. My girlfriend and I, here, are just having a discussion.”
Sam shook her head vehemently. “I’m not your girlfriend Paul. Please let me go.”
“You heard her. She’s asked you to let her go. I think it’d be a good idea for you to listen to her.”
Paul scoffed. “This is none of your business. This is between her and I. Buzz off.”
His grip only tightened painfully, causing Sam to let out a yelp and pull back harder from him.
The manager, who Sam had only seen a handful of times, rushed over to stand at her other side, flanking her.
She hadn’t seen him come out of whatever back office he’d been tucked away in, but when she looked over to see the teenage girl standing behind the counter, holding her phone up in front of her, Sam had never been more grateful.
“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the manager instructed. “Let go of her before I have to call the police.”
Paul ignored him, turning his attention back to Sam with a new viciousness in his eyes. “Just come home with me, Sam, and we’ll sort this all out.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever,” she spat back, managing to release Paul’s grip on her arms with the help of the barista next to her.
The next few moments were a blur as Sam stood there, the manager and the barista all but having to shove Paul out of the store as he immediately launched at her. He reached for her, but the manager deflected and grabbed onto him, the barista grabbing onto the other side to keep him away.
A string of curses flew from his mouth, accusations and threats so vulgar and graphic that it made Sam want to gag. She closed her eyes momentarily, feeling a bit lightheaded at how quickly the exchange happened, but by the time she finally was able to open her eyes, Paul was gone.
“I told him I already called the cops, and he bolted,” the manager explained when he returned, seeing the confused look that must’ve been on her face. “They should be here soon.”
“Are you okay?” the teenage girl asked, reaching forward to gently touch Sam’s arm.
As if she sensed how lightheaded she still felt and wanted to make sure she didn’t crumple to the floor.
A tempting notion at the moment, but Sam quickly tried to recover, hating the concern plaguing all of their eyes.
“No, no, I’m fine. Thank you,” she assured them, turning her attention to the girl. “Would you, would you mind sending me the video you recorded?”
“Of course! I’ll send it to you, and I’ll be sure to give it to the cops when they get here.
I think I see their car pulling up now,” the barista said, gently rubbing Sam’s arm.
Despite being well over a foot shorter than Sam was herself, she’d have been lying if the motion didn’t make her feel at least a little safer.
“Is there anyone you want us to call for you?” the other barista asked.
Charlie. She wanted Charlie. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t going to say that right now, despite how much she might have wanted to. Right now, she wanted to get herself together.
“I’m okay for now. I’m just gonna clean up in the bathroom if that’s okay?” she said, her voice sounding weaker than she thought it would.
When she closed the bathroom door behind her, she leaned back against it and held back a sob, refusing to let it out and desperately trying to calm her tattered nerves.
“I’m okay. I can handle this,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.
Sam repeated the same mantra she’d been repeating to herself over the years, hoping that it would help calm her. She repeated the phrase several times until the words rang in her ears, to the point where she was almost able to believe it.
If she were honest though, all she wanted in that moment was to retreat to the safety of her bed, to sleep until the chaos of the world faded away around her.
If this didn’t grant her a restraining order, though, she didn’t know what would.
Charlie probably wouldn’t kick her ass for not telling him sooner about this, but Angel certainly would, so that was a cross she would have to bear in the future. She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to deal with all of that right now.
Her fingers dug into the flesh of her arm as she hugged herself.
She wanted Charlie.
The need to have his arms around her clawed at the back of her throat until she almost choked on it.
He was still at work as far as she knew, but she began thinking of excuses to see him. Everything, anything, just to feel his comforting touch. In that moment, she didn’t care if she took advantage of their arrangement to do it, she just needed to be with him.
An idea struck, and she shot him a quick text before tucking her phone back into her pocket. She’d have to clean herself up after giving her statement to the cops waiting on the other side of the door but all in due time.
For now, she’d give herself a few moments to herself in this bathroom.
Only then did she let the tears she’d been fighting roll down her cheeks.