Page 19 of Claimed By My Stalker

"Wait a minute, I know that picture," I mutter to myself.

I barge into the room, flipping all the light switches on the wall. In the light I realize it's a picture of me riding my first bike, to my horror and astonishment, the other pictures are ones of me at several points in my life, even pictures I don't own, pictures taken secretly, without my consent or knowledge. The items in the box are all mine, things I have either lost or thrown away, an old toy, a hairbrush I threw out several years ago…

I grab a framed picture of myself on my sixteenth birthday. My hands tremble as I clutch onto the framed picture as panic starts to set in, the room starts to spin and I feel the urge to throw up my breakfast. My body starts to feel hot, I hang on to a chair but only end up falling over with it on me.

Despite my weak state, I’m determined to leave before Carlo returns and finds me. I crawl to the door with all my strength fighting the sickness that’s taken over me.

Everything is finally starting to make sense, finding myself in his home, his accommodating attitude. I should have realized it sooner. I know I have to go, but where? I’ve only known this place, and I’ve been too reliant on him.

7

Carlo

Everyone goes silent whenever I pass by, it’s been like that since I got rid of Enzo. They all look at me differently, part ways for me like I’m going to snap and kill someone else. I killed Enzo for a reason, a good one, it was going to be either him or me, why can’t everyone else see it that way?

Carrie is the only one that seems to understand why I had to take such a drastic step, Enzo had to go. She didn’t judge me for that decision and I know she means it. Enzo's spot has been unoccupied for several days now, but after everything I have been through, I know better than to get someone else to replace him. Enzo's job position is too dangerous for me to sustain, it gives whoever is occupying it too much power and access to me.

I don’t want anyone having that much hold on me ever again, anyone except Carrie. Speaking of Carrie, I hold tightly to the two opera tickets I have secured for us both. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I hand it over to her.

Rosa comes running towards me. “Carrie, the girl, I can’t find her. She’s nowhere here,” she cries hysterically.

I stop in my tracks, my brows knitting in a frown.

“What do you mean she’s nowhere? If she’s nowhere here, find out where she is!”

I spend the next hour with Rosa searching the building, rummaging through her closet and other places she keeps her things. Most of her things are still intact, I notice the choker I gave her is gone too, still, it's evident Carrie's disappearance isn't planned. I refuse to believe she would leave of her own accord, Carrie likes it here with me, everything that happened between us is as real as it could be. That's what I tell myself at least.

Bruno is out of the picture, and I can’t think of anyone else that would take her from me. I stop to think about anyone I missed, is there another enemy I don’t know about?

“Unless…”

I make a run to my study. My heart drops when I find the door half open and a broken picture frame on the ground. I refuse to tell myself it’s over with her recent discovery, all I have to do is make her understand. Yes, it’s nothing that I can’t handle. All I have to do is find her.

Carrie didn't leave with her traveling documents. She wouldn't leave for the airport, not without her passport and money.

I know a guy that gets people in and out of Italy without any hassle, illegal immigrants, prisoners on death row, people trying to fake their deaths, he asks no questions and receives payment in cash or kind. I stop in my tracks trying to think of something Carrie could trade for a trip back to America then it hits me, the pearl studded choker, those were real pearls, and if she bargained well, it can get her more than a trip back home. I wonder if Carrie knows how much the choker is worth, I hope she doesn’t.

I put a call through, he answers before the phone gets a chance to ring,

“I’m looking for a girl.”

“I’m no finder, wrong number!”

“Wait a minute.” I try to sustain the conversation. “I know she came to you, blonde hair, average height, probably gave you a pearl studded choker as payment.”

The receiver sighs. “If you know that much then you’ll know I don’t reveal my clients under any circumstance.”

I try to make him understand. “She’s not in danger, I just need to find her.” There is no proof of my words, all I have is blind hope that he will believe.

“I'm hanging up now. Goodbye," he says before the line goes dead.

I kick the curb repeatedly in frustration and return to my car. I'm at a loss for what to do which isn't like me. I know I'm not thinking straight, the realization that Carrie left me has me confused and destabilized.

An idea occurs, and I realize that I know the route they’re going to take. I've used that same route several times to get goods to my clients when I couldn’t use Bella Pizza's transport system. Without thinking about it any further, I rev my engine and speed off.

I find a few cars along the border, all looking generic, it’s hard to tell which one she’s in. Two of them have tinted windows. One of the plates however looks forged. I have no time to punch the digits in and verify, all I have is a hunch, a feeling. The plate number looks too perfect to be real anyway.

Trusting this hunch, I overtake the car and pull up in front of it. The driver curses at me but that's the least of my problems. I head to the car and yank the door open searching for her face.

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