Page 75 of Back to Me

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SARA

There are only a handful of moments in my life I wish I could take back. One of those moments was when I was six years old, and my mom had taken me to an antique store. While she was roaming the aisles, searching for what I was never sure, I decided to wander off on my own. As I passed each table filled with every knick-knack mankind had ever produced over the last century or two, I would touch each one, stopping on any that caught my eye. Near the back of the store, when I was all alone, I found a wood carving of a bird. It was painted a lively yellow, and its eyes were painted the brightest blue I had ever seen. My heart grew with excitement, and I wrapped my little six-year-old hands around it, carrying it around the store as if it were my new pet. Losing myself among the haphazard aisles, I had carried the bird around with me until I grew too tired to explore any further. Finding my mother in the same aisle as when I had left her, I stood beside her like I had been there the entire time. She didn’t move, hadn’t even noticed I’d been gone. Grabbing my hand, she said, “Come on, Sara. I didn’t find anything this time.”

My eyes darted between the hand my mother was holding and the beautiful yellow bird I was still carrying in the other. As we grew closer to the exit, I wanted to tell my mother about the bird. I knew it was wrong to take something out of a store without buying it, but my mother hadn’t noticed. She didn’t even notice I had left her. Then without a word, I slipped the bird into the pocket of my daisy print sundress, keeping it for myself. As I grew older, I buried the bird deep in the drawer of my childhood desk, never allowing it to see the light of day again. I felt guilty after that day, remembering the way it felt walking out of the store without saying a word and knowing the only other reason I had stolen the bird was out of spite for my mother.

I’m sitting next to Graham on the couch, feeling much of the same guilt I had toward my mother for stealing the wooden bird that day. For my own selfish reasons, I had spouted and confessed horrible things to the man I love, all because he hurt me. I’ve come to learn over the years just how strong my anger and jealousy can be.

And now, here we are, held hostage in our own apartment by the man who has been stalking me for the past three months.

He’s tied my hands behind my back and did the same to Graham as soon as he ordered him to sit beside me. He’s standing in front of the ottoman, his shins brushing against my knees. Since I found him standing in the hallway when I came home, he hasn’t left me alone nor has he lowered the knife he holds in his hand. A tear spills from my cheek, and I purse my lips.

“Mr. Price?” I ask, whispering.

I’m directing the question towards Graham, and both men know it. It didn’t register right away when Graham had turned around after he first came through the door, facing Julian. At first, I didn’t understand the connection Graham was making between Mr. Price, his boss, and Julian, my stalker. My stomach turns with a gut-wrenching sickness, already knowing the answer. I just need to hear either man confirm it out loud. Pressing my lips together, I inhale a heated breath through my nose, feeling my chest shudder.

Graham nods toward Julian. “Mr. Price.” Looking up, he narrows his eyes at him and adds, “My boss.”

Sneering, Julian flashes his pearly white teeth, and I lean forward, feeling the wind leave my chest in one big rush. An evil laugh spews from him, and I want to vomit.

“You know, they always say it’s a small world, but…” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and bends his knees. Propping himself on his heels, he lowers himself down enough to level his eyes with mine and Graham’s. “But it really is a small world after all, isn’t it?” He chuckles a humorless laugh, raking his fingers through his greasy blonde hair.

“Mr. Price,” Graham says, closing his eyes. I can tell he hopes to talk to him like he always has as if he’s a colleague and friend. But when I look back at Julian, he’s not having any of it. He grits his teeth and leans forward, bringing his face close to Graham’s.

“Stop calling me that,” he orders.

Sighing, he glances at the both of us before he reaches out, placing his hand on my knee. He caresses my skin with his thumb, and I shiver beneath his poisonous touch.

I can feel Graham shift beside me, bringing his body closer to mine, his face flashing with red, the muscles ticking beneath his jaw.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Graham grits. His knees bump into me as he tries anything he can to push Julian away.

Quickly, Julian lifts his knife with his other hand, pointing it toward me.

“I’ve already told you once, and I won’t tell you again. Touch her or me, and you’ll regret it,” he warns.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back, lifting my chin away from Julian’s knife. My skin crawls with fear, and I fight back the urge to sob.

“Okay, okay,” Graham says. “Just please, don’t hurt her.”

Delighted, Julian’s green eyes flare with excitement, and I can see the ideas building behind them. Giving my knee a gentle squeeze, he stands up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think it’s about time we all shared how we know each other. Now, Sara already knows how Graham and I know each other. But,” he points the knife at Graham. “you must be wondering how I know Sara.” Backing up slightly, Julian sits down on the ottoman and rests his elbows on his knees. “My sweet, sexy Sara. Please do tell Graham how we know each other.”

I narrow my eyes at Julian. Fire builds in me, and the familiar pang of guilt rests in the bottom of my gut. Sighing, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“I met Julian the night we were at the graffiti park, and he’s been following me ever since.”

“What?” Graham asks, breathless. “He’s been stalking you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Slowly, I open my eyes and turn toward Graham.

“I’m sorry,” I cry. “I should have told you. But Graham, you have to believe me when I tell you I had no idea he was your boss. I didn’t even know he had just hired you when I met him.”

“I believe you.” Nodding once, Graham swallows, his blue eyes clouding over with sadness. “It’s okay. I believe you,” he quickly responds.

Tears spill from my eyes, wishing I could lean forward a fraction of an inch, allowing his arms to wrap around me, but I can’t, and Graham knows he can’t either.

---