Ever, Sarah (28 page)

Read Ever, Sarah Online

Authors: C.E. Hansen

The door.

I saw it below.

I had to get to the door.

His laughter filled the hall behind me, but I kept running. I had to get to the stairs.

He caught up with me and pulled me backwards by my hair. He dug his fingers into my arms. I pushed at him, but he was stronger. He was shouting. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The words were all jumbled in my head. I raised my hand to strike him and he pushed me back. He pushed me and for a few nanoseconds I was airborne. I fell backwards. My body hit something hard.

Each blow hurt less than the first. I was fading, dying…in so much pain, I was praying for the darkness to take me. Hoping it would drown out the sound of the laughter. The malevolent sound that continued to ring in my ears.

I heard screaming.

“Stop. Stop. Don’t hurt me.” The voice was unrecognizable.

I bolted upright in bed and looked around the dark room, straining my eyes. I felt panic set in and I was shaking uncontrollably, my heart beat as erratic as my breathing.

I stood up.

I wanted to run.

Run from him.

The door opened and he rushed in.

“Are you okay?” His silhouette outlined by the light in the hallway. “Sarah. Sarah. Wake up. It was a dream. You’re having a dream. Wake up. Sarah.” His hands wrapped around my arms, and I felt him shake me. He held me tightly in his arms, but I needed to get away.

“Leave me alone.” I pushed at him.

“Sarah, you’re having a nightmare. No one is chasing you. No one is going to hurt you.” He still held me tightly to him. I could feel his chest rise and fall against my own. His hands began caressing my back. His fingers grazed the top of my backside as he continued to rub small circles on my back.

All I wanted right then and there was for him to release me, but his hold was too tight. With his hands on my hips, he pulled me to him and began to grind his body up against mine.

I wondered momentarily if he is showing me his desire or his perceived power over me.

I felt his hardness rub up against my belly, and I froze. I swallowed hard to hold back the threatening nausea.

“Please, let me go. I’m better now. Please.” I pushed at him again, not wanting to feel him against me in such an intimate way. He must have seen the panic in my eyes because he slowly loosened his hold on me.

“Let me get you some water.” He backed up and walked into my bathroom. A few moments later he came out with a glass in his hand. In his other hand he held out a pill. I wanted to ask him where that came from. Does he have them stashed in every room, or does he just keep them handy in his pocket. “Take this. It will calm you down.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You need to take it.” His voice was stern, as though he were talking to a child.

“I don’t want it.” I repeated.

“Sarah, don’t make me force you. I know what’s better for you.”

Like hell you do!

My eyes opened wide and I could see something in his eyes that wasn’t there before, something strangely familiar. Something I didn’t like. I robotically opened my mouth and he placed the pill on the back of my tongue. I gagged and had no choice but to swallow it. He handed me the water and I took a long sip. Trying to dislodge the pill in my throat.

“There. That’s better. Now get back into bed.”

I did as I was told, all the while biding my time.

He sat at the end of the bed for what seemed like forever. I turned away from him and pretended to fall asleep.

“I won’t let him hurt you Sarah. You have no reason to be afraid.” His voice calm again. But that didn’t stop the fear and anger from building inside me. He stood and leaned over me. His lips swept across my cheeks and he turned his head just so his lips would be ready to claim mine if I moved in his direction. I refused to budge and I felt his whole body tense, heat was radiating off the surface of his skin.

He stood and walked out, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was out the door and I heard the key in his door click into place, I jumped up and ran into the bathroom. I stuck my fingers down my throat several times. My eyes watered and my stomach hurled, but I finally threw it up. The pill came out and landed in the toilet. I drank several more glasses of water to flush out any that may have gotten into my system.

“Son of a bitch.” I whispered.

I made my way back to the bed and lay awake until the light of dawn slowly crept up the walls, illuminating what had quickly become my hell.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

I heard stirring in the room next door, but lay as still as I could. He closed his door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. I heard a key in the lock and shut my eyes. I held my breath until he thankfully walked past my door and down the hall. From the sound of his footsteps bouncing off every other step, I could tell he was in a hurry.

I climbed out of bed and locked my door in case he decided to come back upstairs. He slammed a door close and then more footsteps. The front door opened and once again I heard the key in the lock, and immediately after he closed it, I heard the finality of the lock clicking into place.

I watched out the window, casting my glance sideways until I could see his car pull out onto the road and I stepped back and watched as it speed past my window. I shook uncontrollably as a chill settled deep inside me and zipped the hoodie I’d been using since I arrived.

I put my hand into the pockets and sat on the edge of the bed. I needed to get out of here at all cost.

I felt something inside the pocket and pulled it out. It was several small sheets of paper that strangely enough looked very familiar to me. I unfolded them and nearly peed myself. In my hand were pages from my own diary.

Every one of them in my own handwriting.

How the hell?

My hands were trembling, as red hot fury sets in. I sat with my mouth hanging open wide in disbelief as I began reading.

 

 

Dear Diary,

Brad stood me up for lunch. I was mad for about two minutes, but then I stepped off the elevator and walked outside. It was gorgeous. So beautiful, I decided to sit on the bench and do some people watching.

I love this city. It has the most interesting people in the world walking the streets.

So I was sitting minding my own and about fifteen minutes later, my stomach growled so loud the old guy sitting next to me laughed. That’s when I got up and headed to the hot dog cart. I knew Brad would disapprove, which was half the attraction.

Okay, so I was still mad.

Anyway, I bumped into a man, literally. It felt like I just walked into a brick wall.

I looked at him. Holy, Moly, he was a very good-looking man and he was apologizing profusely. If I had a dollar for every time he said sorry, I could have bought every dirty water dog in that cart, and that’s not a lie.

I told him I wasn’t exactly watching where I was going, so no harm, no foul. He stood there with a big grin on his face. Now this would not typically be important enough to be a diary entry, but afterwards, after I shoved that hot dog in my face faster than I can say yum, I walked to the bench. I sat …and so did the handsome stranger. I avoided eye contact with him and after 20 minutes or so, I got up and went inside. I felt his eyes on me. It was somewhat complimentary and weird at the same time.

He looked familiar. Maybe he works in the building.

 

 

Diary,

That same guy was standing by the front entrance to the building when Brad and I arrived the next morning.  We were walking close, Brad’s arm was around my waist. I was about to say hi when he looked directly in my eyes and his glare was murderous. This guy looked as though he’d just found his wife cheating on him. It was weird. I was glad Brad was with me.

I came down for some air and found that weird guy standing outside the building. Either he has uncanny timing or he’s following me.

 

Another entry that didn’t make sense.

Today the weirdo tried to speak to me. His voice was so low I could hardly hear him, but I did make out that he was asking me to go to lunch. Freaky right?

I informed him I was engaged and his face turned bright red. He got all angry and walked away. Like I said, weird.

 

 

Dear Diary,

I ‘ran’ into that guy again on the elevator. I cursed myself for wanting to sleep in. If I’d just gone in with Brad I wouldn’t have to see him.

I feel bad for him. He seems like a nice man, but something about him is beginning to creep me out. I’m pretty sure he’s harmless, but he still makes me feel icky.

 

No more to that entry? It seems a little short to me.

 

I’ve told both Mark and Lena about him and they both told me I should tell Brad. He seems to be getting bolder now. He even went so far as to grab my arm to prevent me from walking away. I’ve explained to him at least three times that I’m engaged and it would be inappropriate to have lunch with a man I don’t know.

I think Mark and Lena are right. I

 

What the hell have I done?

 

Okay, so now this pain in my ass is beginning to get on my last nerve. I didn’t want to bother Brad with this, he’s so busy, so I flat out told him I wasn’t interested in having lunch, conversations, or anything else. I’m in a very happy relationship.

 

I began crying. Brad. I missed Brad. What a mistake I’ve made.

This man, Kevin, must be a stalker, and where in hell did he get these pages. I know my diary has been in my makeup bag. Maybe while I slept. Maybe while I was… drugged!!! I swiped angrily at my eyes, getting more and more furious by the moment. I continued reading.

 

Even when I told him I was engaged, which by the way seemed to make him angrier, he was still persistent. He begged me. Promising me he would be a total gentleman. I’m beginning to feel very uncomfortable…and pissed off.

 

Dear Diary,

I had to walk between three people in order to avoid him. He stands near the elevators every day and gets on my elevator. Today I was able to slip past him without him seeing me.

 

I was finding it difficult to concentrate on what I was reading, yet I kept reading it.

 

I had to explain, as if I was talking to a child, in plain English that I wasn’t interested and would never be interested in another man. I loved my fiancé. I think I heard him mumble ‘bitch’ under his breath. He is becoming more brazen and I’m really starting to get nervous.

 

 

Now it’s really getting to be too much. Between the gifts, the notes, the constant calls to my office, I’m about to pull my hair out…I’d rather pull his hair out! Poor Lena is going crazy deflecting his nonstop phone calls. I am thinking it may be time to tell security.

 

 

Today when I got to work there was a small box outside my office door. I was the first one in and used my key, so how it got in there is a mystery. I opened the box. It was a damned bracelet. I thought for a split second it was from Brad. I lifted it out of the box I found a note.

With all my love, Paul

I got all freaked out.

That’s it. It’s time to end this shit.

 

 

PAUL!!!! PAUL!!!! Fucking Paul. I jumped up and with the sheets still in my grasp, I raced down the steps all the while listening for his car. I looked out the window and saw the lady with the roses fussing around in her rose garden.

I banged on the window with my fist. Nothing. I banged a little louder. Still nothing.

I pounded the window. She moved. Got up and without looking in my direction, walked slowly back into her home. I couldn’t figure out if she didn’t hear me and just went inside, or if she did indeed hear me and chose to ignore me. That revelation scared me, what if she had heard me and just went into her house, ignoring the trapped woman behind the window. ME!

I tried to keep cool. He could be back any minute and I had to think. I ran to the back door and tried it again, knowing full well it was locked from the inside, and Kevin had the key.

I was starting to put two and two together here and realized who really had the control issues.

I ran up the stairs and reached into my jacket pocket and took my cell phone out. I pushed buttons like my life depended on it. Nothing. It was dead.

I ran back down the stairs into the kitchen and pulled a long knife out of the drawer. Sure, I could use it if it came down to either him or me, but what if he got the knife out of my hands and used it on me?

I’m not a violent person. That much I knew about myself.

I had a thought.

I quickly went to the pantry and moved the Cheese nips and crackers out of the way and opened the bottle and took out two of Paul Anderson’s ‘roofies’.

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