Chapter 5
It”s been two weeks since he tried to kill me and one week since I saw the mysterious man. Well, I suppose I saw him. At this point, I don”t know if he was real or just a hallucination from the lack of sleep and way too much alcohol at eleven in the morning. I tried to describe him to Riley, hoping she could identify him, but she was unable to find a match of his description in her files. Since then, however, nothing out of the ordinary has happened. He is watching me; I”m not stupid. He just doesn”t show himself, but wherever I go, I feel his eyes on me, like a ghostly presence, haunting me with its unseen gaze.
After another day of absolutely nothing, I have finally had enough. Waiting for him to make his next move is driving me crazy. It”s probably exactly what he wants, but I”m tired of playing his little game. I know he’ll make a move sooner or later, and until then, I will simply live my life as normally as possible and, at the same time, remain ready.
With my pistol securely tucked into the holster belt hidden by my oversized sweatshirt. I decided to take advantage of the beautiful sunny afternoon and go for a run in the park near my apartment. Working out has always been a way for me to clear my head, stay calm, collect my thoughts, and come up with a plan. If I knew who I was dealing with, at least that would completely change how I approach the situation. But I have nothing. I am literally lost, and I’m not too fond of that feeling. I hate being the one at a disadvantage; I need to be the one in control. Even now, out here in the open, surrounded by civilians, most of them women with their children who are playing in the playground, I feel his eyes on me. I searched the whole area, but no one in particular stood out to me.
I take a deep breath before picking up the pace, from a comfortable jog to a proper run. The nervous tension is getting to be too much; I need to get the stress out of my system. My steps are heavy and the gravel under my feet crunches with each step. Hyper-aware of my surroundings, it doesn”t take me long to notice a fellow runner behind me. He hadn”t been there until a few seconds ago, had he? I bite my lower lip nervously. What if he is the one following me? Could it be him? I should stop, turn around, and see who it is. But what if this is exactly what he wants? We”re out in the open, and he can”t just draw a pistol and shoot me. There are too many witnesses. Getting away would be impossible; even the biggest idiot knows that. But on the other hand, I don”t know what kind of lunatic I”m dealing with. He could have contacts that could get him out of any situation.
I have to test him in some other way. I decide to go even faster, pushing myself to the limit. The man continues to follow me; even when I change my route a few times, he stays right behind me. Fuck him. I”ve had enough, I slow down and run down a less-used path in the park. Because of the thick trees and the bad lighting, people tend to avoid this area from seven p.m. until sunrise. This is the exact spot I need to lure this bastard. His heavy footsteps remain behind me.
When I”ve had enough, I stop dead in my tracks, kicking up gravel as I spin around and grab the man by the collar of his running shirt, blocking his path. My heart hammers against my ribcage and my chest heaves as my breathing comes out fast and labored. The man barely manages to stop and nearly crashes into me.
”Why are you following me?” I yell, my voice trembling.
”Holy–I-I’m not following you,” the man stammers as he tries to find the words. Startled, he raises his trembling hands in a defensive gesture. The man”s eyes dart around in confusion and panic, as if searching for a way out, his eyebrows furrowed, forming deep lines of worry.
When I look at him, I know he’s not the man I saw while in the restaurant, but there is a chance that he is an accomplice of the killer.
”You’re going the same way as me! You are following me!” I raise my voice even higher with the goal of attracting attention, and it works. Passers-by have stopped and are watching the exchange between the man and me with great interest.
”I promise I didn’t follow you!” the man pleads. His face is wrinkled with deep lines of shame and confusion. No killer would be able to pull off such an embarrassing act. Their pride is far too important to them. ”I was listening to music and wasn”t looking where I was going! I must have done it subconsciously!” He continues, his voice betraying him as it quivers, his eyes glossy and filled with genuine fear.
My whole body is shaking. I don”t want to believe him. I want him to be the asshole. But he”s not, no matter how much I wish he was the bastard, just to put an end to all of it. He is just a poor, pitiful guy who got caught up in it. I shove him back with force and cause him to trip. ”Never do that again,” I warn him. ”Next time, someone might call the cops!” I take a deep breath and place my hand on my chest in a reassuring gesture to calm my raging heartbeat.
”I”m really sorry!” the man pleads.
”Just go and never follow me or any other woman again!” I yell at him, and he does as I say. He jogs off with quick steps. I huff a frustrated breath and push my bangs out of my face. I have to go home and relax; I”m done with today.
Sitting on the edge of my bathtub, wrapped in nothing but my cozy bathrobe, I turn on the faucet and let the warm water fill the white tub. I”m at my breaking point. What happened today has most definitely proven that to me. I attacked an innocent man who was simply distracted and subconsciously ran after me. He didn”t mean to hurt me. It was a simple and foolish mistake he made. I am really going insane. It”s been two long weeks since the first attempt, and all he”s done is watch me from a distance, with no signs, no hints of his next attempt. He must be getting a kick out of watching me slowly crack under the pressure. I wonder if it turns him on, if he gets off playing these sick games with me. Is this the reason he is taking his time?
All I need is a good night”s sleep. I”ve been scraping by, and even though I keep a pistol within arm’s reach and have one of the best security systems in place, I can’t seem to sleep. Every little sound wakes me up. Living in a city like New York, there is a lot of noise, even at night, because this is a city always alive and buzzing with activity.
I thought about packing a bag and just running away; it would buy me some time. But I”ve worked the same job, no matter where I go, or how far I try to run from him. He will find me one day and finish the job, whatever it takes. That”s the way the business works; there”s no escape. You can only try to delay it.
I grab the purple bath bomb I bought earlier and drop the small ball into the steaming water. It doesn”t take long for the water to bubble and turn a soft shade of purple. The soothing scent of lavender fills the room, creating a pleasant atmosphere. My bathroom is the only place I don”t feel like someone is watching me. With no windows, he has no way of catching a glimpse of me when I”m at my most vulnerable.
I turn on some gentle pop music and place my phone on the laundry basket to keep it safe from the water. Then I place my glass of wine on the small bath tray. Making sure I have everything I need, I smile to myself. All I want is to relax for a little while and forget about the mess I”m in.
Turning off the water, I let my bathrobe drop to the floor and climb into the tub. Lying down, I make myself comfortable and the warm water embraces my aching body. My muscles begin to relax and the stress of the past few weeks fades into the background. I close my eyes, rest my head on the soft cushion of the tub, and let out a heavy sigh. Just for one hour, it”s okay to let go.