I See You (8 page)

Twelve months later

P
ULLING BACK THE DRAPE SLIGHTLY
, I squint through the glass at the van that pulls up at the front of my house. My heart beats rapidly in my chest as my nerves ramp higher and higher, my mouth drying and making it difficult to swallow. My hand automatically rubs over the scars on my chest.

A tall man climbs out of the driver’s side as another, smaller man jumps out from the passenger side. Both wear jeans and a hoody, and both laugh at something the tall one says.

The tall man turns to look at the house, his eyes narrowing as his lip curls in disgust. It’s obvious he or his friend have bought it. I’m surprised really. The rundown three story house has been empty since I moved here eleven months ago, and that had been one of the main reasons I purchased it—its remoteness and lack of nosy neighbors. Now it seems my ideal home has been squashed in the three seconds it took the two men to pull up outside.

The man turns his face in my direction, and I let the drape drop back down, my breath catching in my throat at the knowledge he’s seen me looking. The light that briefly filtered into the room evaporates, and again, I’m left alone in the dim room. For the eleven months I’ve been living here, I still can’t open the curtains. It’s stupid, and I have absolutely no reason to be scared, but my dreams, or rather my nightmares, are full of—
him
, his masked face peering at me through the window as I sleep in the darkness. So now, I leave the lights on and keep the drapes closed, just in case the dreams are not dreams, but premonitions of what’s to come. They can’t come true if I do everything I can to change them. That’s what I figure in the dark recesses of my mind, anyway.

My lungs squeeze tight when I hear a knock on the glass of the front door. It’s only light but the shock of it is blazingly loud in my head. I press back against the wall and place a hand over the screaming inside my chest. The disturbance to my heart rate makes me feel lightheaded. I press my other palm to the wall behind me to support the tremble in my legs.

“Go away,” I whisper to myself when another knock eerily echoes around the house. “Go away.” I plead, but I don’t think it’s loud enough to be heard.

“Hello?” His loud voice ricochets off every lobe in my brain and I start to hyperventilate when I see his cloudy face press up to the mottled glass at the door.

Steve, my grey fluffy cat, answers his knock with a meow as he trots across the room, seeking me out to wrap his fat body around my shins.

“Not now, Steve. Please.” I know, as well as Steve knows, that it’s his supper time, and he isn’t about to let me off as he twists more furiously around my scrawny legs. His prickly tongue laps at my toes as if he’s about to become a cannibal and eat me from the bottom upwards. “Steve!” I hiss when the man’s face appears at the window again.

What the hell is his problem? He’s relentless! Leave me alone!

“Hello!”

I grit my teeth and push back harder into the wall, praying as I close my eyes that he’ll go away.

As if sensing my reluctance to greet him, he backs away, the scrunch of his feet on the gravel driveway calming my nerves the further away he gets.

I blow out a breath of relief and scoop Steve up, burying my face into the thick, soft fur to apologize for not giving him the attention he wants. “I’m sorry, baby. Mommy’s coming.”

He’s the only person that ever has my attention. There’s no one else in my life. However that’s my own choice, and I intend to keep it that way until God grants me passage into a better place. A place where monsters don’t exist and nothing but the sun beats on my soul.

I groan in frustration when I open the cupboard to take out Steve’s food and find half a can of soup, and nothing else. “Shit!”

I look down at him, my expression hopeful as I beg him with my eyes that he could starve for the night. “I forgot to order shopping, Steve.” His replying meow and nudge of his nose tells me he isn’t going to let me off. Apparently he doesn’t like to go hungry.

My mouth dries as I snatch up the car keys and slowly walk through the kitchen and into the garage. I glare at Steve as he sits his ass down on the steps and watches me with his own fierce glare. “Traitor!”

I make sure all the doors are locked then flick the switch to raise the garage door and back out. The two men moving in next door turn their heads and stare at me as though I’m an alien with six heads. The small one turns back to what he’s trying to lift out of the back of the van, but the tall one fixes me with a stare, his soft features watching me closely as he squints to look at me through the windshield.

I can’t close my eyes and hide from him because I’m currently backing onto the road at a speed I’ve never pushed my little car before. Something in the engine squeals with the effort I’m forcing on the gas pedal. He’s still surveying everything around me as I tear off down the road. I can only pray that he’s gone when I return, but with my luck, I know he’ll still be there, watching for me to return so he can bang on my freaking door again.

The guy behind the counter makes my body shiver when he leers at me as I place the cat food and milk on the counter. He’s only young, and harmless more than likely, but it doesn’t matter. My own shadow feels like a threat.

“Just those,” I say as I keep my eyes away from his.

“Anything else I can get you, doll face?”

I shake my head, studying the change in my wallet like it contains the secrets of the world. “No,” I croak. “Thank you.”

“You sure?” he asks, oblivious to my urgent need to get the hell out of the store. “We have a good price on condoms at the moment.”

I shake my head again and drop the cash onto the side. It bounces then spills over the edge and every single coin disperses into three hundred different directions.

“Freaking hell!” I grate through my clenched teeth. My hands are shaking when I bend to retrieve the money, some coins still spinning on their side as I hurry, snatching them up eagerly. But the last coin is picked up by a different hand.

I remain still, crouched on the floor, as a pair of sneakers come into my line of sight. “You’re pushing your luck. What kind of question is that to ask a customer? I’m sorry to your mom but that’s the final straw. This is your week’s notice,” I hear him tell the guy behind the counter.

I know he’s waiting for me to stand and take back the ten cents but instead I spin around and fish another out of my wallet, slamming it and the rest of the money onto the counter before I grab my groceries and swiftly shoot out of the store.

“Excuse me!” the man who came to my aid shouts after me, but I’m practically running now, the frantic pace of my heart struggling to feed my veins with blood. My brow is beaded with sweat as I scramble into my car and flick down the locks. My eyes look up to see the shop owner holding his hand out and the local sheriff who I rushed past in my need to flee begins to walk over to my car but I tear out of the car park like there’s a damn wolf at my heels.

Tears pool in my eyes and I’m so freaking angry at myself. He was being polite, trying to help me and I was rude. Utterly rude. I hate what I’ve become, hate myself. Hate what
he
had transformed me into. I once loved life, been happy, and although my career hadn’t been taking me anywhere, I had still been content and at ease with everything about me. Now I detest looking at myself in the mirror. All that stares back at me is a hollow shell of horror and a ghost of the past. A ghost that’s scared of its own shadow.

I creep along the muddy road as I approach my house, my face pressed to the window when I kill the headlights and try not to attract the attention of my new neighbors. For the first time in a long while, I am lucky. The lights to the house are on, but apart from that, no signs of life meet my return.

Steve greets me excitedly when I rush back into the house and quickly bang shut the adjoining door from the garage, slamming the four bolts home as I turn the two locks.

“I’m here, big guy.”

He purrs loudly, wrapping himself around me again while I tear off the can lid and scoop an extra-large portion into his dish to apologize for the wait.

“Salmon. Your favorite.” I beam at him when he jumps up on the countertop and starts to nuzzle my ear. “I love you too,” I reply.

I have absolutely no idea how old Steve is. He came to me every night since I moved into the house and I’m sure the previous owners had just upped and left him. In my own twisted mind, I tell myself he’s Ginger incarnate. The landlord informed me they had owed a serious amount in rent, a hidden warning to me when he’d told me pointedly with a message in his eyes I’d had no trouble deciphering. He gives me the jitters too. The way he looks at me is beyond the familiarity of acquaintances, like he knows I’m fleeing, and knows the reasons why. However, he’s the only person I see. His visits once a month to collect the lease money are the only real face to face conversations I’ve had with another adult during the previous eleven months—apart from the guy in the store and the delivery man who I snatch bags from and nod my head in thanks. I Skype and talk on the phone so that counts as socializing right?

The phone rings, and giving Steve one last stroke, I leave him to eat in private, and pick up the handset, walking through to the lounge as I answer. “Hey.”

I grin to myself when Tricia’s soft voice curls around me. “How are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” I answer with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what is coming.

“So you’re up to visitors now?”

I gulp and shift with discomfort. “Well . . .”

“Oh, bullshit to this, Nina. I’m coming out this Friday to see you. Make up the spare bed, girlfriend. I’m staying for the weekend, and hopefully I’ll drag your sorry ass out for some fresh air!”

“Tricia . . .”

“Don’t ‘Tricia’ me,” she growls, mimicking my quiet voice. “I haven’t seen you since you left. You’ve made excuse after excuse. Well, now I’m sick of your stupid excuses. I miss my friend. Todd keeps asking for your number.”

“No, don’t!”

“Oh, don’t panic. I wouldn’t do that. Anyway, he has some fucking balls. He asks after fucking me senseless about getting my best friend’s number? I’m going to have to fuck his best friend now to teach him a lesson.”

“That’s really insensitive of him. I hate men.”

“Yeah, well I hate them too, except I love their cocks and fingers and tongues, and occasionally their asses when I find one open to being pounded in the back door.” She giggles down the line.

“Todd?” I ask with a gasp.

“Oh, God, no. I wish. He likes to do the back door pounding. I’ve told him you’re too fucked up to be into anything like that so I don’t get why he pursues you.”

I’m shocked silent by her statement. Static crackles across the line and after a few awkward silent beats, she says, “Shit. I didn’t mean that how it came across. I’m so sorry. Nee, I just meant you aren’t his type.”

I inhale a shaky breath and tell myself to breathe.

“Nee?”

“It’s fine.”

Steve saunters into the room, his tongue lapping at the clumps of salmon stuck to the fur around his mouth. His grey eyes settle on me and I’m sure he quirks a damn eyebrow at me and sighs in exasperation, judging me silently for my behavior.

Closing my eyes and already regretting it, I concede. “Okay, I’ll fix up the spare bed.”

“YAY!” she squeals causing me to hold the phone a little away from my ear.

Truth be told, I have missed my best friend, and something in the air tonight makes me want to feel her tight hug and see her pretty smile.

She is silent for a moment then she sighs heavily. “I’ll be there about four. Make sure you have wine chilling and a hot pizza delivery guy on standby.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, I’ll see you Friday.”

My smile is wide when I end the call but the rampant beat in my heart belies that happiness as anguish coils deep in the pit of my belly. I know Tricia will be shocked by what has become of her best friend. I’m no longer curvy and bold. My skin isn’t soft and full of life anymore, nor is my spirit high and bright. Now I’m gaunt and thin, my voice a mere whisper and my body stiff with tension and strain.