Page 50 of Callan

What made me think he would be here? Or that Beverly would be home?

Disappointed, I walk out of the building when two cars rush to a halt in front of me.

I step to the side and let the men and women walk past me and enter the lobby, my eyes sprinting over their faces.

They’re all strangers to me.

The cars pull away while the people vanish inside the building when the heated focus of a gaze burns into my cheek.

I look across the road, where a man's dark silhouette fills the doorway of a building. My pulse races, tension grips my shoulders, and a ball of angst tightens in my chest.

For a moment, I’m not sure what to do.

Should I just scurry away and get back home as quickly as possible? Or should I try to find out more about that man?

That’s probably not the best idea.

The man doesn’t move.

Cloaked in darkness, he seems to still have his eyes on me.

I might be wrong, though.

Maybe I’m a little spooked by this evening’s incident back home and the thoughts spinning in my head right now.

Taking a long breath, I set myself in motion and head back. As much as I don’t want to look back, I can’t help myself and glance over my shoulder quite a few times.

Luckily, no one’s following me.

I’m ecstatic about that.

It takes me about ten minutes to enter my street––I’m moving that fast––and the closer I get to my place, the more relieved I feel.

This has not been one of my brightest ideas, and I’m mad at myself for going there because I wanted to see him.

And no. This wasn’t only about giving him the information.

I’m wearing the Christmas gift he gave me. And I've taken the money with me. Who am I fooling here?

The door closes behind me while I stride across the lobby and take the stairs up to my floor.

I won’t leave my place until next week. Enough adventures for the year. It sounds like a great plan, and I’m totally on board with it as I open the door to my apartment and walk in.

I barely have time to take my boots off and deposit my scarf and gloves on the kitchen counter when someone knocks on the door.

Apprehension zips through me.This has started to get on my nerves.What is wrong with these people?

I can’t say I’m not scared.

I just came back from a place I had no business being after noticing a man I had no business noticing. What if that man has indeed followed me.

And then followed me inside my building?

Shaking inside, I quietly sneak to the door and look through the peephole. A man dressed in black awaits in front of the door.

The dimness conceals his features.

Perfect.

---