Chapter Eight

PAIGE

Elias' concern seemed rather random, but at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a reason for it. Did he come by my classroom because of some random creep outside his shop? Did he know something I didn't? Was I actually in danger and he just wasn't telling me?

As I walked to my car after school, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around, but didn't see anyone out of the ordinary. I certainly didn't see any hulking men in leather staring daggers through me – thankfully. All the same, I hurried to my car and locked the doors the second I got in.

Silly girl, I told myself. You can't let Elias' paranoia seep into your brain. You'll drive yourself crazy. Who'd be following you anyway? You're an art teacher – not some master criminal or something.

I was an absolute nobody. That's who I was. I was just a school teacher, nothing more and nothing less. I lived a boring life, had very few ex-boyfriends, and truthfully, all of them pretty boring and nerdy. Hell, I was pretty boring and nerdy, for that matter. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all to worry about.

I drove home and parked outside my apartment complex. I lived in a quiet neighborhood, for the most part. No, it wasn't the wealthier part of town – the area the school I worked at sat in. But I felt safe enough. I knew most of my neighbors – most of whome were other working class people, like myself. There were a few troublemakers in my apartment complex – at least one couple I suspected of doing drugs – but there was nothing all that serious. There certainly wasn't anything I suspected I should be worried about.

Still, even knowing that, I felt uneasy walking from my car into my apartment. When I unlocked my apartment door, I slipped inside and locked it right behind me.

Why was I letting this get to me?

I laughed at myself as I dropped my purse on the kitchen table. I was being silly, that was all. No one was following me. No one was watching me. The creep outside of Elias' studio had just rattled me pretty good. But I told myself – more than once – that there was nothing for me to be all that concerned with.

My phone buzzed, making my heart race as I just about jumped out of my skin. “Jesus Christ,” I said, then once I realized what it was, I laughed even harder.

Picking it up, I saw that it was my mom calling. I rolled my eyes and considered not answering, weighing out all of the pros and cons. I was tired after working all day and didn't really feel like conversing with anybody – but she was my mom.

“Hey mom,” I said, walking through my house. “What's up?”

“How's work today, sweetie?” she asked.

We talked for a while, about nothing in particular. It was more of just a check in with one another and gossip session. Typical fare for most of our phone calls. But I had to admit that it was good to hear her voice. It made me feel a bit reassured – and that everything I'd been fearing all day wasn't all that scary after all.

“Your cousin is getting married in May and we've been invited to the wedding,” she told me. “It's in Florida though.”

“I'm going to have to pass,” I said.

“School should be out by then,” my mom asaid. It's not until late May.”

“Yeah, it's not that.”

I hated to admit to my mother that even though I had a nice, stable career, I still couldn't afford to travel to Florida on a whim like that. Unfortnately, there was no money in the budget for a trip to Florida. Not now. Probably not anytime soon. Not while I was still drawing a teacher's salary, at least.

“Are you going?” I asked.

“Probably not,” she said. “Your father says we can't afford it.”

My dad was always the practical one in the family – my mom was the dreamer. I'd somehow gotten a mixture of both. It was why I'd studied art – even though I knew an art degree would lead me nowhere except teaching. Which incidentally, was why I'd also gotten a teaching degree – thus illustrating my mom's sense of whimsy mixed with my dad's more pragmatic side.

“I'm sorry,” I said to her. “Maybe we can go in on a gift for them, get them something nice.”

“Yeah, they'd like that,” she said.

I was now in my bedroom, kicking off my shoes, when I noticed that my dad's old pocket watch sitting out on my dresser. I walked over, picked it up and turned it over in my hand, examining it closely. My mom was talking about gifts we could get the happy couple, but I was too busy trying to figure out how his pocket watch had gotten out of my jewelry box and out onto my dresser.

And when I reached for the jewelry box to put it away, I froze. My pulse quickened and adrenaline began to pour through my body when I noticed things had been moved around inside of it.

“Honey? You there?” my mom said.

“Uhh yes, sorry,” I said, closing the jewelry box. “Sorry, Chester made a mess in my room while I was at work.”

“How is the old guy?” mom asked.

I scanned the room, looking for my large, cantankerous, fourteen year old cat – but he was nowhere to be found. My heart raced. If someone had entered my house and searched my things while I was away, what if they'd let my cat out? What if they'd done something worse to him? Something horrible?

Yes, my first thought went to my beloved feline – not my stuff. Stuff could be replaced, but Chester was my baby. There was only one of him.

“Umm, I have to go, mom,” I said. “Love you.”

Hanging up the phone quickly, before she could speak again and I carried it with me as I searched my house. Nothing else seemed out of place, as far as I could tell. But there was no sign of Chester.

“Here kitty kitty,” I called out. “Where are you, Chester, buddy?”

I ran into the kitchen and pulled out a can of wet food, praying that my fat boy would run in at the sound of the can opener. And like magic, as soon as I opened the can of foot, a big gray furball came running into the kitchen – after squeezing himself out from where he'd been hiding behind the bookcase. He rubbed against my ankles, happy to see me.

Picking him up, I scratched his chin and mumbled, “Why were you hiding, Chester? You never hide.”

Unless he was afraid. And Chester was only ever afraid when strangers came into our home. He always hid when I had friends over.

The pocket watch. My scared cat.

Knots formed in my stomach as I was hit with the reality of the situation. Someone had been in my apartment at some point that day. But who? And more importantly, why?

As I held my cat close to me, I couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with the man at the tattoo parlor earlier that day. Or that it had to do with Elias.

ooo000ooo

“Elias? It's me, Paige.”

I stared down at the pocket watch on my dresser. I suddenly felt incredibly silly for making that call ni the first place. It's possible that I could have been paranoid and overreacting. After all, it could have been Chester, messing with things on my dresser. He sometimes did that. It wouldn't be the first time I'd found something out of place because of my furry little klepto.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Uhh I'm not sure.”

My voice was shaky and my knees were weak, so I sat down on my bed and tried to gather myself. I didn't want to come off sounding like a complete moron – although, it may have already been too late for that.

“Earlier, when you were asking me all those questions – about whether or not I'd ever seen that guy outside your studio before – was there a reason? Is there a reason I should be worried? I need you to be straight with me here, Elias.”

“I told you – ”

Before he could make another excuse, I blurted out. “There was someone in my apartment while I was at work today, Elias.”

He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Are you sure?”

“I'm pretty sure, yeah,” I said. “But it's possible that I'm being paranoid. I mean, I've been feeling on edge ever since you asked me about the creep earlier today. But I'm standing in my place, and stuff was moved around on my dresser, my cat was hiding – ”

“Any sign of someone entering forcibly?” he asked.

Duh. It was probably the first thing I should have looked for. I quickly glanced around the room and saw that my bedroom window was open. I often slept with it partially open and sometimes left it cracked for Chester. But it was more than just cracked now – it was completely open. And I knew that I hadn't left it like that. Not in a million years.

“Yes!” I said, standing up. “Oh God, yes. My window is open. That's how they got in – should I call the cops?”

What a stupid question. Of course I should call the cops.

“Is there anything missing?” he asked.

“Not that I'm aware of – nothing seemed to be missing,” I said. “Even my jewelry was still in place – just moved around a bit. It's like whoever was in my apartment wanted me to know they'd been here.”

Elias sighed on the other end of the phone. “They were probably just checking you out. Trying to get inside your head a little,” he said. “Listen to me really carefully, you hear? Close that window and lock it tight. Lock your doors, don't leave anything open and unlocked while you're gone. Do you have a gun?”

“What?” I scoffed. “Really? You think I have a gun – ”

“Of course not,” he said. “You probably won't need it. Still, if you hear anything – anything at all – call the cops. But, you should be fine. Really.”

“Should be fine?” I asked. “Yeah, that's real comforting, Elias. What are you talking about? Who are these people?”

“Listen, I can't tell you any more, Paige,” he said. “And honestly, you'd be better off not even talking to me again. These people, they're only dangerous if you cross them and you're not going to cross them. You're not going to have anything to do with them or me. You hear me?”

“I hear you, but I have no idea – ”

“Good. Let's keep it that way, Paige. You know nothing. You lose my number and don't even look at me when I'm dropping Harley off at school, okay?”

Nothing about this was making sense. And honestly, it was doing nothing but scaring the shit out of me. There was so much adrenaline coursing through my body that I was trembling and my head was so dizzy that I could feel a bitch of a headache coming on.

“Okay, but are you safe?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to keep myself under control. What about Harley?”

“I'm going to figure it out, Paige,” he said, irritation and perhaps, even anger in his voice. “Don't you worry about it. My daughter will be safe, I'll make sure of that.”

The line went dead. He'd hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand, even more confused than ever before. As much as I wanted to forget about everything, I couldn't. It just wasn't that easy.

Someone had been in my house while I was at work, and somehow, they were connected to Elias. That was all I knew. I had no proof they were connected to Elias, but I knew it down deep in my gut.

Maybe he was right though. Maybe I did need to forget he existed, if only to protect myself.

But it wasn't that easy.