Page 21 of Cut Me Down

My next internet search was for the local gun stores. I won’t dare show my face in another pawn shop, and if I was going to need self defense equipment, I wanted to make sure it was reliable. After I recovered, Tony showed me some self defense moves to be able to escape someone’s clutches, but we never really went over how to fight back. I'm not sure even sure I could. I know it’s called the fight or flight reflex, but I think freeze is also included in mine. I’d like to think that if someone actually tried to hurt me again, that I would fight back. But would I? The way I halt at the wrong noise tells me that I probably wouldn’t.

The flower that I clenched in my fist from fear, stared at me the whole time. I should’ve dropped it when I ran, but I wasn’t thinking. I just clenched my fists for dear life and ran down the stairs, and the more I look at it the more curious I become. Obviously, this person knows where I live, he’s been leaving me flowers for weeks, but how long as he been able to see me? Can he see me? The text could have been timed at just the moment.

Right?

I’m pouring hope in all of the wrong things. I know that. The logical part of my brains knows that there is no coincidence in this scenario, but the other parts of my brain are in a blaring mode of denial. So I thought in that moment, that it was time for a test. To see what this person is really doing and what he can do. So, I grabbed a glass cup from the back room, filled it with water, and put it on my station. The black rose slid in with ease, while my mind raced with uncertainty.

Now thinking about it? Definitely not my proudest moment or my smartest move, but I figured that if this man was watching, that it would stir him and cause him to react. Hopefully not in retaliation, but in a way that can make the situation more clear. I was hoping to come down here, start working, and calm myself down, but that turned into something else. Determination.

Even though I'm still shaky, and the eerie feeling hasn’t gone away, I still opened the shop and got to work. Acting as if the flower on my station won’t jump out and bite me. The doorbells rings, and the shot to my nerves is much sharper than the previous couple of weeks. I jolt at the sound, causing my client to look up at me in the mirror with confusion and concern etched on his face.

Pulling myself together and looking to the door, Serena walks in fiercely and comes up to the half wall. Her bouncy, waved, blonde hair not looking near as pissed as her strong stomping portrays. Those bright green eyes of hers dart out with concern and anger as she flings her purse onto the front desk.

“Show me.” She demands.

“I'm sorry Phillip, give me a sec.” I say softly to my client.

“You’re good, Ash! I'm not in a rush.” He says comfortingly as I walk around the wall and pull up the messages on my phone.

“This is what I got this morning.” I show her the text from earlier, and then I scroll down. “Then this is what I got after I set my station up.”

Unknown Number

You putting me on display baby girl?

She looks over to my station to see the black rose sitting in the cup in the corner, and I immediately see her pupils contract and tighten, showing her obvious disdain for my idea.

“Ash! Why the fuck would you put that there?” She asks fiercely, pointing to it.

“To see if he was watching me. Guess I was right.” She squints her eyes at me and shakes her head at my poor decision-making skills. “I was feeling brave! Or I was for a split second at least.” I say regretfully. She looks back down at my phone, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, then snaps her eyes back up at me.

“Wait a minute,” she gets quiet and sneaks her face up to mine so she can speak. “You touched yourself last night?” She whispers.

“Oh my God, so not the point!” A strong and seductive smile creeps onto her face.

“I'm so fucking proud of you.” She says, as if anything I just showed her didn’t matter.

“I hate you.” I walk back over to my client and start to finish up.

“Oh, come on Ash. You know what? We’re going out tonight.” I jerk my gaze back to her.

“Out? You think this situation warrants us going out?” My voice cracks under the insane idea of going out in public with a stalker on my heels.

“Well, it’s obviously no safer here. At least this way you'll be with me, and we can scope out the public to see if anyone is following you around.”

“Maybe we should just call Tony.” She sets my phone down on the half wall harshly. “Hey, be easy with that!”

“Fuck Tony! He does shit by the book, which means before he can even do anything for you, you'll be dead. We’re handling this without Tony’s good boy routine. It’s probably just someone trying to fuck with you.” She says so matter-of-factly, and completely ignoring my plea over my phone.

“Yeah, but why would someone do that, Ser? It doesn’t make any sense.” I grab my phone and put it back in my pocket.

“I don’t know girl; men are crazy. No offense, Phillip.” She holds her hand up in surrender to him, and he just shrugs his shoulders. “So, I'll pick you up tonight?” She grins as she sticks her hip out, already gearing up for a night of bad decisions.

“I don’t think so, Ser. I have to work early tomorrow.” That, and I don’t feel like beingactualbait for my stalker.

“No, you don’t.” A male voice rings out. I turn around to see Emmett walking through the back door. A large, tall, strong black man, who always wears the same barber’s shirt and jeans, kind of like I do. The gold chain his wife gave him hangs around his neck and sways with his movements. His skin is pristine, not a freckle or tattoo covering his smooth brown skin. His demeanor showing the confident caring man he is.

“What?” I furrow my brows and ask in confusion.

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