Page 8 of Risky Fight

“Lucky, huh?” I tease him, nights like this are fun and carefree, I miss when life was like this all the time. When I looked forward to weekends and going out. “I might just let you get lucky.” I wink and he waves down the barman for another beer — trying to get me softened up.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” Will invites me over, and I accept with a smirk. I should stop fighting this so hard and go with it, maybe he is the one. Who knows, maybe I am waiting for more and this is as good as to gets. “You know we need to finish our conversation about you moving in with me,” he says as a server clears away our empty plates and glasses. Moving in isn’t where I am at, not now, and maybe not ever.

Will wants that life, all of it, and I can’t see it anymore — not the way I did five years ago. The future doesn’t have the same shine it did then. I’m afraid I will disappoint him if we live together, that he will see through me and know I don’t want a picket fence or to get fat having his babies. Figuring out what I want is taking longer than I thought it would.

“I don’t know if I am there,” I say honestly, “but maybe we can spend more time at your place and see.” I like my home, my things — the familiarity. Change rattles me and throws me off. I need solitude to recharge when I am overwhelmed after being around too many people. Having my own place isn’t something I am going to just give up.

“I guess that’s a start.” Will looks disappointed, I keep hurting him and yet he stays with me. We always fight about the same things, but never enough to drive either of us away. “I heard Rory was in town, did you get to see her?” He makes small talk to change the subject. I miss having a best friend, even if she was a shitty one. None of the women my age stuck around this unique little zip code of hell after we graduated.

“She’s probably left already, but we had a quick catch up. Her husband keeps her on a leash, he’s a creepy fucker. But I guess she loves him because she looks really happy,” I say. My beer has lost its fizz and the food has made me tired and lazy. “She is living a very different life than the feisty fighter who left here to go to Russia.” She has changed, just like everyone else around me.

“I saw her husband in and out of a few places. He’s in business with Roark’s old man, something shady’s going on.”

She didn’t mention that to me when we spoke, maybe she was trying not to dredge up the past. But now Will says it, and the flashback of the other night comes at me again, the night I sawhim.

“They’re expanding into new things. That was the rumor we heard at the firm. The Russian has hired a team to funnel fights and money through here.” I’m not listening to him, my skin prickles and I can feel I am being watched again.

I try not to be obvious when I scan the crowd for anyone that looks dodgy or even familiar. But the bar is packed, it’s not only Friday but it is payday weekend. There are a ton of unfamiliar faces mingling between the regulars.

“Can we go?” I ask Will as a cold chill bristles its way up my spine.

“You haven’t finished your drink.” He frowns, it’s not like me to leave before the place gets rowdy and chaos breaks out. “But, we can go if you want,” he says downing the last of his beer. He pulls some bills out of his wallet and leaves them on the bar to cover our tab, before he ushers me through the crowded bar and out onto the street.

It’s as hot out here as it was in the sweaty bar, but at least I don’t feel like a trapped animal being hunted. Will takes my hand in his and we walk down the sidewalk, dodging drunk pub goers and stepping over litter — this place really is a fucking hovel. I’m watching where I step, but as I look up and across the road, the same dark SUV I saw drive by my place is parked between cars. It stands out, a rich man’s car in a poor neighborhood.

My steps speed up, and I have this sudden need to run — to get out of here — that car and the ghost I think I saw in it are bad news. My gut is never wrong about shit like that.

“You in a hurry?” Will laughs at having to keep up with me. If I tell him he will get all paranoid, so I rather keep my crazy thoughts to myself.

“Yes, in a hurry to get lucky.” I wink at him, before glancing back at the SUV, there’s no driver in the car. I don’t know what or who I expected to see.

***

I snuck out in the middle of the night, I wanted my own bed. I couldn’t sleep at Will’s and I was too tired to toss around all night. I tried, but I know I wouldn’t have got any sleep at all. The summer has turned the city into a sauna, even the air smalls like ass. I hurry to unlock the door and get inside. I still feel edgy and it’s dark this late at night.

The first thing I do is turn on the fan, and strip off some of my clothing trying find some relief from the unrelenting heat. Down to my knickers and t-shirt, I open the refrigerator enjoying the cool air escaping while I take out a bottle of water.

“Your ass still looks so good.” A deep man’s voice says from behind me and I freeze. It’s not Will — and he saidstill.His accent is funny. Not funny ha-ha but strange like he’s hiding it. I’m scared, but I don’t want him to know that so I stay still until my heart rate goes down a notch.

Turning slowly, I look around the room to see who has invaded my space, but I can’t see anyone.

Something feels off, the air thick with an eerie presence. I know he’s there, lurking in the shadows, but he’s cunning, staying just out of sight. Fear grips me, but my stubborn, feisty side won’t let me run. Instead, it drives me to confront the danger head-on. This is why I always end up in trouble — and bar fights. I never know when to run.

“Come out, you coward!” I call, my voice wavering only slightly. “I know you’re here. Show yourself!” Show yourself, who am I? “If I find you it’s going to hurt.”

There’s a sinister yet familiar chuckle from the darkness, it sends cold shivers down my spine. I know this person and they know me. But I refuse to show weakness. My foolish bravery takes over, and I start to hunt him down, determined to face this intruder who has the audacity to invade my sanctuary. This home is my place — it’s my safe haven and I will make them sorry they dared to trespass here.

My hands tremble as I grab my phone and flick the flashlight on, using its beam to scour each corner of the room. I can hear my heart thudding in my ears, and my breath quickens with every step I take. The adrenaline pumps through my veins, giving me a false sense of invincibility. This is dangerous. I should call for help, or run. If I call Will he’s going to be pissed I left. If I call my brothers, they’ll commit murder on my good rug. No, I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone.

I venture further into the space, my eyes darting around, searching for any signs of movement. But he’s like a shadow, elusive and cunning. I can’t shake the feeling he’s playing with me, toying with my fear and vulnerability. I knew I was being watched — that tingle at the bottom of my spine is never wrong. Whoever is in my house has been watching me, stalking me, hunting me.

“Enough games!” I snap, trying to muster up more courage than I truly possess. “Come out and face me, you fucking stalker!” I feel violated, and vulnerable, but no man will ever see that. I’ll never back down to a boy.

As I round the corner from the kitchen to my small study, I catch a glimpse of movement, but before I can react, I see it’s just the fan blowing the curtains. Panic mixed with a heavy dose of anger surge within me. I’m always trapped in this dangerous dance, trying to assert my dominance over a man who poses a threat.

The time ticks by, each second feeling like an eternity. I can’t let my fear paralyze me, even though I should be scared, I should run. There is something about that voice, it’s like an itch on the inside of my brain. I continue my foolish search, my brain and ego at war with each other.

Maybe I made it up. I am tired and I did have a good few beers earlier. I was nowhere near wasted, not enough to be hallucinating about intruders.

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