One thing bothers me, though. He burst into my life, and he’s a complete stranger. I’ve met the man once—twice if I count the attack—and I can count the things I know about him on one hand.
His name, sort of. GP. A nickname, I’m guessing, but who knows in this day and age? People name their kids after vegetables and fruits now. It might very well be his real name for all I know.
That he’s been the one checking up on me at all hours of the night with his loud motorcycle, and that he lives nearby. Though after going at him with a stick, I haven’t seen him around since. Not that I’ve been looking. Okay, fine, I have been looking. Constantly looking, if I’m being honest here.
And I’ve seen his face. A handsome one, with sharp angles and dark eyes I could feel staring directly into my soul. It’s a face I wouldn’t mind looking at on a regular basis.
That’s it. The fact of the matter is, I really don’t know this guy, but try telling that to my brain, which keeps playing our first meeting over and over again. Yet, here I am, with GP still on my mind, like some love-sick girl. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Stop thinking about him,” I mutter to myself, peering up into the still steamy mirror from my nightly shower. I wish it were that simple—to say the magic words and all thoughts and dreams I’ve had of him over the past few days would disappear. I can’t get that lucky.
My fingers trace the light bruises splattered across my face. The final reminder of what I’ve been through physically beginning to fade from dark purple to a shade of yellow. Shaking both the wounds and GP from my head, I wrap my fluffy bath towel around myself. Stepping out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, Jinx greets me at the door with a sharp hiss.
“Stop that,” I scold her. Her furry black behind rubs against my leg, growling as she does. She’s been on edge much more today than she was the day I came home from the hospital. Any sound or movement from outside sends her into a fit of angry hisses and growls within a few seconds.
“What’s wrong?” I coo, giving her a scratch between the ears. She howls even louder, staring straight at the door of my bedroom. A feeling of extreme uneasiness washes over me the longer she postures in one specific direction. “Did you hear something down there?”
I scan the room. Wait…
The clothes laid out on my bed before getting in the shower are strewn across the floor. It’s been years since Jinx has done something like this. I want to believe this mess is her doing, but that all changes when I see the top drawer of my dresser ajar. There’s no way she could’ve managed that. Someone’s been in my room.
Jinx lowers her frame closer to the ground and inches to my door. She peeks outside, and a loud crash echoes from downstairs. I’m not alone.
“Fuck,” I scream under my breath. Grabbing Jinx from the doorway, I run back into the bathroom, and quickly lock the door behind me. My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone on the counter, my entire body trembling while trying to jab at the numbers.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I plead into the receiver, until the detective’s gruff voice answers.
“Ready to tell me about your boyfriend, Miss Thompson?” Detective Morrison chides.
“No! This is really an emergency. Someone’s in my house!”
“Slow down, Blair,” he says, his tone a little more alert than before. “Tell me what happened.”
“Someone ransacked my room while I was in the shower.”
“Do you know if they’re still in the house?”
“I think they’re downstairs. I keep hearing noises.”
“Where are you right now?” he asks, but then he’s talking to someone else, barking out orders.
“Locked in my bathroom. Please hurry,” I beg, with tears streaming down my face. “I’m trapped if they’re still in the house.”
“Sit tight,” he insists. “I’m on the other side of town working another case, but I’ll get dispatch to send officers to your house as quickly as I can. Stay where you are, and stay quiet.”
“How long?” I ask tearfully.
“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I promise you, someone will be there as fast as they can.”
He hangs up. Without a timetable of when help will arrive, I’m a sitting duck if I wait for his officers to show up. It’ll be too late.
My heart races, and I try to force my breathing to even out. I’m on the brink of a panic attack.
“Call me. Day or night, rain or shine. I live just around the corner, and can be here way faster than the police can.”
GP’s promise rings through my memory, and I pull up his contact info. Please be close enough to help me now. He saved me once before. I just have to hope he’ll do it a second time.
“Blair?” GP answers, but I can barely hear him with the noise in the background.
“Someone’s in my house,” I whisper into the phone with my hand cupping the receiver.
“What did you say? Hang on a second, sweetheart. Let me get outside. I can barely hear you.” The noise disappears, and he speaks again. “I can hear you now. You okay?”
“Someone’s my house,” I repeat. “I called the cops, but they aren’t here yet. Please, I’m scared,” I word vomit, but a second loud crash from downstairs scares me enough to scream. “They’re still in the house!”
“I’m on my way, sweetheart. I need you to listen to me, okay? Stay quiet. I’ll be there as quick as I can, you hear me?” The sound of a motorcycle firing up booms into the speaker.
“Yes,” I cry. “Hurry.”
“I’m coming for you right now, baby,” he croons. He hangs up just as a third noise comes from downstairs. This time, it comes from directly below my bathroom.
I freeze, squeezing Jinx tightly against me. Please let GP make it in time. The seconds pass like hours, spanning eons in real time without the roar of a motorcycle or the sound of sirens.
“Stay calm, Blair. Just stay calm. GP and the cops are on the way. Just keep breathing,” I whisper to myself and Jinx, until the sound of the stairs creak under ascending heavy footsteps.
The odds were in my favor the last time, but would that ring true the second?
GreenPeace
Move, asshole. I slide my motorcycle between two lanes of traffic. I’m being totally reckless, but I don’t really give a shit right now.
He’s in her house.
Of all the nights for me to be at the fucking clubhouse. I usually don’t stick around after a meeting, but Judge was still on the warpath, and I didn’t want to chance pissing him off even more. What I should’ve done was gone straight home. Well, straight to Blair’s, to make sure all was well.
Zooming onto the off ramp, a horn screams in my ear. I narrowly avoid taking out the front end of a sedan, but the near miss barely registers. If Blair’s attacker is in the house, I’m going to kill that motherfucker this time.
The subdivision is quiet at this hour of night, though lights still blaze in most of the houses that line the streets. All except Blair’s. Only one light’s on in an upstairs window.
I screech to a halt in front of her house before clambering off my motorcycle. I take the porch stairs two at a time, and my heart stutters in my chest when I find the front door not only unlocked, but open a full two feet. Darkness and silence lay beyond it.