The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,82
car is on the far end close to the garage exit, away from the elevators. Only a few more cars remain in the underground garage. When I pull the car door handle as I’m about to climb in, I see writing on my windshield.
You can’t hide from me, bitch.
My heart stutters in my chest and my body trembles. I scan the entire area, holding my breath as panic overtakes me. There’s nothing here. I take a picture because this can’t just be my mind playing tricks on me.
Who is doing this? Earlier it was Ava’s old doll that jarred me. A toy that looked so much like it was in the booth, then in Peyton’s hands before they both disappeared. Someone left it at the café on purpose. It’s not my imagination; he’s watching me.
Cold shivers run down my spine. I jump in the car and pull out of the parking lot as fast as I can. In less than ten minutes I’m turning left on Quebec Street. That’s the beauty of the streets in the area, they’re almost empty at night. The downside, the fucking traffic cameras. I’m positive that I’ll be getting a few tickets for going over fifty miles per hour where the speed limit was thirty-five.
Once I enter the underground garage, I pull out my whistle and run to my apartment. My breathing is shallow from running from my parking spot to the stairs and all the way up. I know that I’m safe. No one can break into this building. My throat closes when I realize that whoever left the message on my windshield already accessed the highly secured parking lot at our offices without raising any red flags.
Nothing will stop them from breaking into my apartment.
I jolt when my phone rings. It’s Wes. I want to let it go to voicemail and answer it at the same time.
Wes: Abby, pick up the fucking phone. I need to know where you are?
“Hey,” I gasp for air.
“Why are you out of breath?”
“I decided to run up the stairs?”
“Abigail, is everything okay?” His voice carries more worry than what I feel.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I dare to ask.
Is he hiding something from me? Should I tell him what happen or just let it go?
“I’m on my way home,” he announces, I hear the engine come to life.
“Stop worrying about me. Everything is fine. I should be out of your hair soon.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” he barks. “Maybe I didn’t handle things the way I should have when you told me, but the last thing I want is to lose you, Abby.”
Is it? Because he’s pushing me further and further away.
“What’s happening?” His voice mellows.
Nothing is happening. So what if they are watching me? There’s nothing they can do to me that they haven’t already done. I don’t hang up but debate about what to tell him. In the meantime, I get water from the kitchen and look into ordering some food online. Maybe we can share one last meal. If I skip town tomorrow, I should be in Nebraska by evening or maybe Chicago if I drive twenty-hours straight. Sterling might indulge me.
Instead, I decide to order food from the Greek place downstairs and just pick it up.
“Souvlaki?”
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry, unless I feel sick,” I remind him.
“Order a combination platter, too,” he suggests.
I hang up with him and place my order. They promise to have it ready in twenty-minutes. I hop in the shower and afterwards change into a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and my Berkeley sweatshirt. I set my phone inside of my kangaroo pocket along with my credit card. My legs are still shaky from earlier. I decide to take the elevator. As I’m going out, I receive a text.
Sterling: You want to hang out tonight?
Abby: If you want to join us, we’re having Greek.
Sterling: Wes is joining us?
Abby: Yeah.
Sterling: You two should figure out your shit. He’s heartbroken just like you.
Abby: It’s better this way. He’ll find someone soon. He always does.
I push the door open and walk toward the restaurant which is only a few steps from the door.
“Hello, Abigail.” My back stiffens as I hear those words. That voice.
“Shaun,” I say turning to my left.
He doesn’t look much different. His eyes still look lost and his body fit enough to look healthy but not strong. I could maybe take him. But I should really run.
“Your bodyguards aren’t with you?” He says, his eyes looking around.