Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
HER
W ith my Discman clipped to my waistband and my headphones on, I head into the park. Even though I have work later, I’m determined to get in my exercise. I learned early on—especially after my father was locked up—that I become antsy if I don’t run. But I suppose it all truly started when that prick Richard got a little too handsy …
I pack away the memory and start a slow jog. Normally, I do my runs in the morning. But I needed the extra sleep so I can begin adjusting to my new work schedule—which I have to thank the cute neighbor guy for. If it wasn’t for his quick improvisation, I’d be stuck casting my employment net in another town miles away.
Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of Blake yet. Obviously, he’s cute and seems nice enough. But I’m also hesitant to get involved with someone so soon again. Past hurt makes me uncertain about putting myself out there again. Especially after what happened in Vermont … For now, I’m just going to enjoy getting to know him.
I jog along the winding path through the park, basking in the warm sun on my face. Although it’s the afternoon, the park is mostly deserted, with only a few other people out and about. I turn up the volume of the music and feel my worries melt away, at least temporarily. Gradually, I pick up the pace until I’m running at a comfortable, even speed, my heart pounding and my lungs burning. But I don’t care. I feel alive.
I run past the playground where a couple of kids are playing. They look so carefree, and for a moment, I envy them. I wish I could go back to a time when the biggest decision of the day was conquering the monkey bars or braving the tallest slide.
After running for a while, I stop to catch my breath and take a swig of my bottled water, making a note to pick up another tube of sunscreen at the pharmacy. If only I had that damn paycheck .
I run again, this time faster. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and I feel like I could run forever. But eventually, I reach my limit and find a bench to rest at. As I sit, I take in the sights of the park. More people have filtered in. Couples walk hand-in-hand, a dog chases a squirrel, and teenagers have started to play basketball.
I slip off my headphones, close my eyes, and savor the moment. The birds are singing, the wind rustles through the leaves, and I can hear the distant laughter of children. Dare I say that I almost feel at peace? But that peace is shattered when I hear a twig snap behind me.
I open my eyes and steal a glimpse over my shoulder. In the corner of my eye, I think I see a figure standing in the shadows of the trees before it darts into hiding. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out any details. “Hello?” I call out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Is anyone there?”
No answer.
Slowly, I rise to my feet, my eyes never leaving the tree line. “Who are you? What do you want?” Yet again, silence is my reply. Part of me feels foolish, like my paranoia has gotten out of control—especially since that news report. I scan the area, but no one else seems to have noticed anything.
I swallow to regain my composure and switch off my music. Despite not finishing my run, I decide to head home. Clutching the water bottle tightly, I make a beeline for the park exit. As I approach my car, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
The moment I slide into the driver’s seat, I lock the door and look around for anything suspicious. I heave a sigh, seeing nothing. But my heart still races, thumping against my ribs as I start the engine. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see no one following me.
As I drive away from the park, uneasiness clings to my senses like sludge. I try to convince myself that I’m losing it, that my fear is unfounded. But I know more than anyone that there are monsters among men.
And many hide in plain sight .
I return home and take a shower. I’m exhausted, the stress of anxiety sapping my reserves. After toweling off and putting on some comfy clothes, I turn on the TV and lay on the couch. I can’t stop thinking about what happened at the park. Who would follow me, anyway? And why? My father’s arrest led to me being bullied and harassed at school. But other than the vultures— journalists —I really don’t have the energy to ponder the possibilities.
My eyes slip closed. I fall into a fretful sleep filled with nightmares of being chased in the apartment. I can’t see the person’s face, but I know they’re trying to hurt me. They tackle me, lift a sharp blade above their head, and?—
I awake in a cold sweat.
My breath comes ragged, my heart pounding. My hands tremble as I take stock of my surroundings, but I see nothing out of the ordinary. Realistically, I know it was just a dream, but it felt so real .
I refuse to let this ruin my entire day, so I get up and make myself a cup of instant coffee. I sit at the kitchen table and stare out the window, taking a sip of my drink as I try to focus on the present. But it’s difficult. My mind keeps wandering back to the nightmare with the faceless figure chasing me.
God, I need to get a grip .
I breathe in, breathe out. Controlled, just like my old therapist taught me. After finishing my sorry excuse for coffee, I rise from the table and glance at the clock. It’s almost time for my shift at Epic Flix Rentals .
Things are going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.
As I try to enter the store, some douchebag nearly crashes into me, almost spilling his huge slushy all over my uniform. He walks away without apologizing, and I scowl at the back of his skull. I want to call him a few choice words, but I know it won’t make a difference. So, I take a deep breath, paste on a pleasant veneer, and head inside.
The store is unusually busy for a Sunday. Customers are scattered throughout the aisles, and there are lines forming at the checkout counter. Jen Breck, a soft-spoken girl around my age, works diligently to keep up with the demand. She reminds me of Grace, both in her mannerisms and appearance.
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. “Hey,” I say, going over to the counter. “Do you need any help?”
Jen looks up at me and smiles. “Sure. That would be great.”
I assist her in ringing up customers and answering questions, as well as helping people find what they are looking for. As we work together, we quickly get into a rhythm. One customer, a preteen boy, is looking for a popular flick to impress his friends. Though he chooses Hocus Pocus , his mother is hesitant to let him rent it .
“I don’t know,” she says, tilting her head in thought. “It seems like a pretty scary movie.”
“C’mon, Mom. It’s not that scary.” He crosses his arms, pursing his lips. “It’s just a comedy about witches. None of that satanic crap on the news.”
“I’m not sure I want you watching something like that,” the mother says.
Before the boy can respond, I step in. “It’s a great movie. It’s funny, not scary. Bette Midler is fantastic in this film. Your son and his friends will love it. Matter of fact, I think you’ll get a kick out of it, too.”
The mother stares at me for a moment before smiling. “Okay,” she relents. “I’ll allow him to rent it.”
“Thanks, Mia!” the boy says, catching me off guard for a moment—until I remember that my new name is pinned on the uniform vest.
I suppose I’m not quite used to it yet.
They pay for the movie and leave the store.
“Good save,” Jen says, attending to another customer.
“Thanks.” I shrug. “I guess sales work must be my calling. Lucky me.”
After a while, the rush dies down. Jen and I are about to head to the break room when the door opens. I pause mid-step, a small smile tugging at my lips as Blake approaches the counter. Jen notices my reaction and makes herself scarce at the back of the store.
“Hey,” he greets. “How are you doing this evening?”
“Doing great,” I reply, ignoring the giddiness building in the pit of my stomach. “At least as best I can be as I take part in the cycle of retail hell. How about you?”
He digs into the bag looped around his arm and slides a tape toward me. “I’m here to return this.”
I blink, momentarily entranced by the silver specks in his blue pupils. “Uh, yeah. That’s right.” Before I can ask, he hands me his card and I get to work at the register. “So, did you enjoy it? Halloween , I mean.”
“Yeah, it was pretty good,” he replies as I scan the tape. “I don’t recommend watching it alone at night, though.”
I raise an eyebrow as I finish processing the return. “Why not? Your heart couldn’t take it after all?”
He gazes at me, his eyes a startling, intense snowstorm. “Maybe I need someone to keep my heart anchored.”
My reply dies on my lips as Brian’s voice booms from the break room. “I don’t pay you to talk all night, Mia.”
“N-no, sir,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That you don’t.”
I can almost see his sour expression as he says, “Then what are you waiting for? Stop the gum flapping and get back to work, or it’s coming out of your paycheck.”
Blake chuckles as I heave a dramatic sigh. I give him his receipt and try not to let my boss’s choleric attitude put me in a bad mood. “Thanks for coming in.”
“No problem,” he says, giving me a wave as he heads for the exit. “I’ll see you around.”
I watch him go. I can’t help but wonder what he meant by that. Is he trying to say that he’ll see me again soon? Or is he just being polite? I know we’re neighbors, but … I shake my head; I’m probably just reading too much into it.
But honestly, I can’t help but feel a little excited at the prospect of seeing him more often.
“Oh, he’s cute.”
I look up to see Jen staring at me with an amused grin, her hand on her hip. “It’s not what you think,” I say, trying to diffuse any smart idea in her head. “We’re just neighbors, that’s all.”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
She doesn’t sound convinced, not one bit.
I go back to work, but I can’t help but think about Blake. I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him, but I’m also scared. Scared of getting hurt, of getting my heart broken. But I’m also scared of missing out on something great.
As long as the past stays buried at all costs.