7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Mia

Okay, so I’m attracted to the man I’m staying with while I’m hiding out from my crazy ex who may or may not be trying to kill me.

It’s okay. That says nothing about me or the choices that I make. Plus, I don’t really think you can choose who you are attracted to. And I just saw him with no shirt on. He looks like an athlete who is training for the freaking Olympics. It’s not like I’m attracted to his personality. That I can say for sure.

Good. That makes me feel better.

Now I can go downstairs and not feel bad about the fact that I couldn’t stop picturing his shirtless body.

I look down at my pajamas and am brought back to the doctor’s comment last night. It was so humiliating. I felt like I was in high school and the teacher caught me giving my boyfriend sexy lingerie.

I was surprised by the look Eric gave me when the Doctor joked about it. It felt like a mixture of anger and interest. I didn’t think I would like the combination, but my body proved me wrong on that account.

After I get ready, I feel a bit better. I think I will explore a little bit of the town today. Maybe find a good bookstore that I can peruse with an iced coffee. I’m in my jean shorts and a V-neck shirt. The fall weather down here isn’t exactly what Ohio sees. It dips a bit lower at night but gets up to the mid-seventies.

Before I do anything, I need to call my brother back. He was texting me last night, but I was so drained I couldn’t find the energy to respond.

I grab my phone and lower into the chair in my room. It’s angled to overlook the backyard.

“Finally,” Gabe’s voice sounds in my ear. “I was texting you last night.”

“I’m sorry. Eric cut his arm last night. I had to take him to the hospital. He needed stitches. It was a whole thing.”

“I talked to Mrs. Mayberry,” he says, ignoring my statement about Eric.

“You talked to my neighbor? Why exactly did you do that?”

“I got a call from the police station. Mrs. Mayberry saw Don’s car two nights in a row sitting at the end of the street. She called the cops. They called me. So, I paid her a little visit to get more information.”

I suddenly get a strange sensation all over my body—like someone is watching me, even though no one is around. Is Don crazier than I thought? Did I leave any clues behind as to where I was going?

“I thought he was given the restraining order,” my voice cracks with fear.

“Well, the motherfucker didn’t see it as a real threat. But she told me she thinks she saw him peeking into your windows one of the nights. By the time the police came, he was gone.”

Oh my god. This can’t be happening to me.

“Did the police contact him?” I ask.

“They did. He denies that he was anywhere near your house. Without proof, there’s pretty much nothing that they can do.”

“How is that possible? They can’t, like, scare him or warn him off?”

Gabe sighs. “Crazy people don’t care about what an officer says. If he thinks he can get away with it, or rationalizes what he’s doing in his head, he won’t listen to anyone. I think you should come home.”

“Why on earth would I come home now? It sounds like the worst time to come home,” I argue.

“Because I don’t trust this guy. I had someone go check his place out—try to see what he was up to—and it has been empty since the cops showed up at his place yesterday morning. I don’t know where he is.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I do my best to hold them in.

“Gabe, I’m not coming home. This was the plan the entire time. The reason why I left. If he’s looking for me, it’s better that I’m hiding.”

“I don’t like not having you here for us to protect.”

“I’m not coming home and risking something happening. Right now, there’s no reason to assume that he knows where I am.”

Gabe argues with me for another ten minutes, but finally he agrees to give it another week before we make any rash decisions.

When I walk downstairs, I’m greeted with Eric’s bare chest. His grey sweatpants are hanging low on his hips, and I feel my muscles tighten with appreciation. I walk closer and watch him try to open the new coffee bag with one hand.

“Stupid fucking coffee. Open,” he curses under his breath.

“Need some help?” I ask as I walk up to the counter.

He grunts. “It shouldn’t be this hard to open this with one hand. But it hurts to grip anything with my other hand right now.”

I reach over and grab the bag from him, desperately trying to keep my eyes off of his chest. His body is a nice distraction from the shit news I just received.

“Well, the doctor said you sliced into your muscle, so it’s going to hurt for a while. You should be resting it for the first couple days. Do you always go against doctors’ orders?”

“When I want coffee, yes.”

I smile. “Alright, I’ll give you a pass on that one. Let me make this for you. You just sit down.”

He lets out a long sigh then backs away, taking a seat at the island. I feel his eyes on me and for some reason, his attention makes my body burn.

Mia, just put the damn coffee beans in the coffee machine. There is no reason to pay any attention to your body, it doesn’t know what it’s doing.

“How did you sleep?” I ask in an effort to distract myself.

Once the machine is grinding the beans, I turn around and see him biting his bottom lip. He has really nice lips. Perfect size, not too big or small. They look really soft.

“Like shit,” he says roughly.

“I’m sorry about that. Maybe you can get a good nap today.”

“Hopefully,” he says to the counter, avoiding my eyes.

Well, isn’t he charming this morning. He seemed nicer last night—must have just been the adrenaline.

Once I pour our coffees, I escape to his front porch. As soon as I sit on one of the swings, I hear a rustling come from behind me.

I fly out of the swing as images of Don jumping out flood my brain. My eyes search anxiously for the source of the noise as my body begins to shake. Then, I see a squirrel run out of the bushes and dart up the nearest tree.

I try to take a deep breath and shake the feeling, but I can’t get myself to sit back down in the swing. What if it’s not safe? Instead, I sit down on one of the rocking chairs against the wall, leaving no room for anything to jump out from behind me. The coffee cup, now only half full from my jump, shakes as I bring it to my mouth.

There’s no way I’m going out today. It doesn’t feel safe to leave his house when we don’t know where Don is. Just the thought of him searching for me brings tears to my eyes. I don’t know how to live like this. It’s like my entire life is put on hold, and I just have to sit here in this stranger’s house and wait.

Wait for what though? For him to find me and hurt me? Until he attempts or even succeeds, there’s nothing the police can do.

My tears finally break free from their prison and cascade down my cheeks one by one. They continue to fall while I drink my coffee, not knowing what to do or who to talk to.