5. Nat

To my eternal surprise, I'm having fun. It's been a while since I danced in Leo's. We usually secure a booth, drink too much, and laugh at the stupid men trying to get our attention.

Dragging me onto the dance floor was a good call. Jane is my best friend for a reason; she knows me better than I know myself at times. She and Amanda have always been there for me, and I love them for it.

"You have an admirer," Jane whisper-shouts in my ear. I can barely hear her over the deep bass of the music. Some guy has his crotch uncomfortably close to her ass but she doesn't seem to mind. She looks over my shoulder and winks at me.

Fully expecting to see a lecherous asshole with a beer belly and comb over, I turn around. My jaw almost hits the floor when I spot the guy staring at me. There's something about him that triggers a memory. The dark hair, a trace of stubble on his sharp jaw, and a hint of a smile.

The bar fades out for a moment. It's just him and me. Our eyes connect and my stomach flips.

Is it really him?

The guy who appeared right when I needed someone to rescue me?

I don't have any clue what happened to Rick after my savior followed him out of the bar that night, but I suspect it wasn't anything good. The fact I don't know where Rick went when he disappeared should scare me, but it doesn't.

He was a monster and he got what he deserved.

Just as I'm about to take a step toward my mystery man, a group of women push onto the dance floor, laughing loudly. By the time they're out of my way, the spot where he stood is empty.

Part of me thinks I'm imagining things, but then I remember Jane was the one to point him out to me. She's now grinding against some guy so I leave her and head toward the bar. Someone gropes my ass and I stamp on his foot. He scowls at me but takes the hint and backs off.

There's no sign of the hot man from my past anywhere, just customers impatiently waiting for a drink. The bartender looks at me, waiting for my order, but I shake my head.

I've had more than enough to drink. Amanda is deep in a conversation with the pretty blond dude when I return to our table.

"I'm out of here, tell Jane for me when she finishes fucking that guy on the dance floor," I tell her when she takes a breath.

She frowns. "Already? You only got here an hour ago."

"Two hours, but yeah, I'm running on fumes."

"You work too hard, babe. About time we had a girls' weekend away. Just the three of us."

She's right. We're well overdue. "Give me some dates and I'll book the time off."

"I'll text you tomorrow!"

Before I'm even two feet away from the table, her attention is back on the blond. Maybe he has hidden depths. I'm not quite seeing it somehow, but he sure is pretty and very much her type. I have a feeling I know where he'll be sleeping tonight.

If only I was attracted to young, pretty, and dumb. My life would be a lot simpler. I'd definitely get laid more often.

My head feels fuzzy from the alcohol so I decide to walk back to my apartment. Normally I'd take an Uber but it's a warm night and the city is surprisingly busy. Enough that I feel safe walking the streets alone.

There are no new messages on my phone from whoever reached out earlier. It's disappointing but hopefully, this person will be in touch again soon. It could be the break I need.

Someone, somewhere will surely talk eventually. The mayor is a walking sleaze bag. I'm genuinely amazed anyone voted for him three years ago. I certainly didn't, and I don't know anyone who did.

Still, there is more than one way to get into a position of power, and if the mayor is who I suspect him to be, democracy did not play a part in the process.

I'm halfway home by the time I start to sense somebody is watching me. There are still enough people around that I don't feel overly concerned, but in a minute, my route takes me off the main drag and down quieter side streets.

I slow down and pull out the small canister of pepper spray I carry religiously. With my job, not everyone is my friend. I've learned the hard way that it pays to be prepared. Keeping the canister primed in my hand, I continue walking, glancing at every storefront I pass, hoping to catch a glimpse of my pursuer.

But there's nothing.

Either I'm just being paranoid or this person is a professional.

Given the story I'm working on, I suspect the latter.

My heart thuds painfully fast in my chest. I'm breathing hard as adrenaline pumps through my veins. A couple approaches me from the front and I slow down a little. They smile as they pass and I nod in return.

The side street I turn into is darker, and emptier. Trash flutters around and a street light blinks on and off. I feel like I've walked straight into a slasher movie, with the psychotic ax murderer lurking in the shadows, waiting to cleave me apart.

Hysteria threatens to burst out of my throat. My apartment block is five minutes away but right now, it feels like miles. I'm seriously regretting not ordering an Uber. If I had, I'd be tucked up at home now. Not imagining all the many ways I'm going to die.

Something clatters nearby and I almost jump out of my skin. The lights of my apartment block are less than 200 meters ahead. So close, and yet so far.

A cat yowls and some of the tension in my bones leaves.

I'm being ridiculous. The noise I just heard? Horny cats.

Then I hear it.

A footstep.

A sudden shift in the air behind me.

There's someone there.

I can sense them.

Oh God.

Just as I'm about to run for my life, a door opens nearby and a group of young people emerge, laughing and hurling jokey insults at each other.

The atmosphere changes from sinister to normal in a heartbeat. Noise and laughter follow me as the group chatters in my wake. They must be heading for an apartment in my building because they step inside just after me.

I take the elevator up to my floor while they wait for the next one.

When my apartment door closes behind me, I engage the lock, wedge a chair under the handle, and collapse on the floor.