Page 64 of Colton
I finish my breakfast before ducking into an internet café, my eyes scanning the street before I enter.Is anyone watching?
I can’t shake the feeling of being followed, though the faces around me blur into strangers. Once inside, I search frantically—police stations, FBI, local news. Every click of the mouse feels like a ticking clock, counting down to the moment Xavier finds me. With shaking hands, I start drafting emails to law enforcement, to journalists. I detail Xavier’s crimes, the abuse, the trafficking ring. I include dates, names, anything I can remember from my time in his house. It’s not enough for a conviction, but it’s enough to start an investigation.
Before I hit send, I pause. This will put a target on my back.
So?
Still, I don’t send it just yet. I save it to my drafts.
I head outside, standing frozen in front of the cafe, feeling like a rabbit in headlights. The neon sign flickers above me, casting an eerie glow on the empty parking lot. My legs achefrom walking for hours after abandoning the car, paranoia convincing me it could be traced.
A figure steps from the shadows, too close. My hand twitches toward my waistband. He’s mid-thirties, with kind eyes—but I’ve learned not to trust appearances.
“You alright, miss?” His smile feels forced, the way his eyes flicker over me makes my skin crawl.
I tense, my hand instinctively moving towards the concealed gun. “I’m fine,” I lie, my voice hoarse.
He doesn’t look convinced. “You look like you could use some help. I’m Tom. Is there anything I can do? My wife is back home if you want to speak to a woman?”
His offer is tempting; I’m exhausted and desperate. But years of abuse has taught me to be wary of strangers, especially men offering help.
“That’s...very kind,” I say cautiously, “but I should get going.”
Tom nods, understanding. “At least let me buy you a coffee before you head out. It’s not safe for a young woman to be alone out here at night.”
I hesitate, weighing my options. A warm drink does sound good, and I could use a moment to gather my thoughts.
“I just had a coffee,” I respond with a tight smile. “But thank you.”
The man smiles. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just passing through.”
Tom nods, still concerned but not pushing further. “Well, if you change your mind, there’s a shelter a few blocks down. They take in people in need, no questions asked. It’s a safe place.”
I manage a small smile, genuinely grateful for his kindness. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tips his hat and walks away, leaving me alone in the cold night air. I look back at the diner, the warmth and chatter insidecontrasting sharply with the dark, empty street. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the weight of the gun tucked into my waistband.
This is it. The point of no return.
I take a deep breath and step back into the diner, heading straight to the counter. “Can I use your phone?” I ask the waitress, trying to keep my voice casual.
She glances at me, then at the old rotary phone hanging on the wall. “Local calls only, hon.”
“It’s local,” I assure her, dialing the number for the nearest police station. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for the call to connect.
“Police Department,” a gruff voice booms.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s coming. “I have information about Xavier Blackwood. He’s involved in some serious crimes, and I can provide evidence.”
There’s a pause on the line, then the voice sharpens. “Who am I speaking to?”
“My name isn’t important,” I say, gripping the phone cord tightly. “What’s important is that Xavier Blackwood is a dangerous man, and he needs to be stopped.”
I hear the scratch of a pen on paper. “Alright, miss. I need you to come down to the station and give a statement. Can you do that?”
My heart races at the thought of walking into a police station, exposing myself like that. But it’s the only way. “Yes, I can do that. I’ll be there in an hour.”
