Page 19 of My Irish Roommate

With my coffee in hand, I rush back toward the stairs but stop in my tracks when someone calls out my name. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the lack of an Irish accent registers in my mind.

My mother is the only American I’ve seen since arriving in Dublin so that can only mean one thing. I turn slowly, half expecting to see a gun pointed at me when I make it all the way around.

It’s him. My stalker from Boston is standing just inside the entrance to the gym. My eyes meet his, and he begins to walk toward me. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why can’t Rowan be here now? I turn and bolt up the stairs with the sensation of icy fingers on my neck the whole way. I imagine that he took off at full speed and that he’s right behind me, but I refuse to look back.

I reach the landing and almost trip on the edge of the top step. My coffee flies from my hand and hits the floor. The lid on the paper cup pops off and hot coffee splashes against the wall. I’m running at full speed yet the final steps to the door seem endless.

I reach the apartment and throw open the door. Once inside, I press my body against the door, holding the knob tightly until I hear the bolt click inside the lock. I back away, expecting the door to come crashing down at any moment. My heartbeat pounds between my ears as I look for something, anything that can be used as a weapon.

I spy Rowan’s fighting stick propped up against the wall and grab it in both hands. It’s heavier than I expected, but if I can manage to get off a good swing, it has the potential to do some damage. I hold it like a baseball bat and stand in front of the door.

The knob turns and my senses start reeling. This is the moment I’ve been dreading for months. I expect to hear pounding against the door but, instead, the lock turns. I don’t know how he’s managed it, but there’s no time to think about that. I need to be ready to attack.

The door opens and I lunge forward with my eyes closed, wildly swinging the stick and screaming. The intruder grabs the stick and uses it to propel me backward into the wall. I open my eyes prepared to face my stalker, but he isn’t here. Rowan is using the stick to pin me against the wall.

“Why do you have my shillelagh?” he asks, taking the stick from my hands and placing it on the floor. He gently takes me by my elbows and stares into my eyes, searching my face. “Baby? Did something happen?”

“He was here. He called my name,” I struggle to speak between labored breaths and see Rowan’s expression change from one of concern to something more akin to murderous rage.

“Did he touch you? Hurt you?” he snarls.

“No, I went downstairs to get coffee and he was down there. I ran back up here. I was so scared he was going to come up here after me!”

My emotional dam breaks and I begin to cry. He cups my cheeks and rests his forehead on mine. His breathing is ragged, and I know he’s trying to control his anger.

“When I get my hands on this guy, he’s finished,” Rowan says and rushes back out the door. I run to the window and watch as he runs outside. He looks up and down the street, but my stalker is long gone.

He returns to the apartment and picks up the shopping bags he’d dropped in the doorway, placing them on the table.

“Come here, little girl,” he commands me and I rush to his awaiting embrace.

“I was so scared,” I cry. He holds me tighter and runs a hand up and down my back.

“You’re safe now. I’m here. I want you to compose yourself, and when you’re ready, you’re going to give me a detailed description of this guy. It’s time that we flush him out of the bushes. The next time you see him, it will be on my terms. And, baby, I promise you, it will be the last time you’ll ever lay eyes on him.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask him.

“We’re gonna need to set him up. It’s pretty clear he’s watching us. He would never have come in here if he didn’t know that I was gone. So, we’re going to use his surveillance skills and desperation against him.”

“But, how?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since last night. You’re going to have to go somewhere alone. I’ll follow you from a safe distance but far enough away so he doesn’t see me coming. When he approaches you, I’ll be there to intervene. Problem solved.”

“You still don’t think that I should get the police involved?”

“What do you think they’re going to do to him for calling out your name in public? It seems to me that he’s very careful not to step over the line. We need to handle this my way. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course, I trust you.”

“Then let me solve this problem for you.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and look at my feet. I wonder if all of this is a big mistake. My mother is angry with me, my stalker is still stalking me, and I’ve created problems for Rowan that would never have existed if I didn’t come into his life. I feel like I personally destroyed his peace.

“Are you alright? What are you thinking?” Rowan asks, kneeling in front of me and tipping my chin up.

“I’m sorry that I’ve caused so much trouble for you since I’ve been here,” I tell him.

“What are you talking about? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

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