“I bet you made the ladies very happy in college once you stopped being scrawny.”
He looks at me over his shoulder, with twinkling eyes and a side smirk that makes him irresistible and his look says everything. Yeah, I can understand how the girls in college would have responded to him. He finishes the second coffee after frotting up some milk and adding it to my cup and hands it to me. It doesn’t surprise me to see that he has made my exact coffee order, he’s considerate like that.
“Jonah and O worked their way through girls like they were on a mission. I’ve had a few serious girlfriends, but nothing lasted.”
“Why didn’t it?”
He shrugs. “It just didn’t. Had a girl cheat on me. Most of the time one of us just found out we weren’t right for each other. One relationship ended because I just didn't want to be in a relationship at that time. It’ll come when it'll come.”
That sounded like a very healthy approach to a relationship.
“Now, enough procrastinating. Go write, we’re leaving for Dominium in an hour,” he bosses me around and I find myself unable to defy him, opening up my laptop and starting to work like a good little girl while sipping my coffee.
When we get back from the business Gil had to attend at Dominium, he opens the door for me again and lets me enter first, like the true gentleman he is. I scream when I see someone hunched over the dining table and my heart starts pounding immediately. A thin girl in dark clothes that hang loosely around her body turns to face the door. Hollow eyes with dark circles beneath them stare me dead in the eye. I recognize her as the girl that climbed out of O’s house. Celia’s slamming my laptop with full force on the edge of Gil’s dining table, as little pieces fly off of it through the room. It’s bent in ways a laptop should not be able to bend in. Gil pushes me back, so I’m standing behind him as he closes the door to the hallway, locking us all in the room. I’m shaking, feeling jumpy, while I’m taking quick and shallow breaths that leave me feeling like I’m not getting any oxygen at all. My limbs are paralyzed and I’m just left standing there like a fucking damsel in distress, waiting to be saved.
“Call the police,” he orders me, getting me out of my fear induced state and I grab my phone with shaking hands. Celia looks at me with vicious yet startled eyes and tries to run to the window. What the fuck? Is she going to climb out the window again? We’re fucking three stories up! Gil grabs her around her waist when he reaches her, and grabs hold of her and she snarls at him. I manage to pry myself away from what’s happening again and get back to the task I’m given.
My shaking fingers manage to unlock my phone and I dial 911. The operator immediately answers and asks me what my emergency is.
“Our stalker’s in Gil’s home and we need help!”
The lady on the other side of the line starts talking to me in a calm tone.
“I’m going to need some more information. Is there someone in this Gil’s home?”
“Yes, Celia! She’s stalking us! Officer O’Donnal knows! Now help us!”
“Are you in the home right now?”
“Yes! She broke in! Gil’s holding her!”
The operator’s keyboard is rattling while I tell her this incoherent version of events.
“So if I understand correctly, you’ve caught someone breaking and entering your home and you’re currently holding her. What’s the address? I’m sending over a unit right now.”
Relief floods me when she takes me seriously and help is on the way. It makes it a little easier to breathe. When I don’t answer the operator and she asks me for the address again, I realize I haven’t gotten a clue as to what Gil’s address is. I try to look around, as if I’m going to magically find the address written down somewhere, which is absolutely ridiculous. My heart rate spikes.
“Gil, where the FUCK are we?”
He tells me his address and I repeat it to the operator as Gil is holding both of Celia’s arms behind her back. The girl is grunting and calling him names, as she tries to overpower him and get loose. I just stand there, unsure what to do or how to help. My survival instincts are non-existent. His eyes lock with mine and he nudges his head to the bedroom.
“Topdrawer, left bedside table. Handcuffs.”
Yes, commands I can do. Thank fuck. I head over to the room and open the top drawer of the nightstand, but all I see is some Advil and a few condoms. The operator on the phone tells me the cops will be there soon and I push the condoms around, being a little confused as to where these cuffs are supposed to be. I’m ignoring the reason why I’m in Gil’s bedroom looking for handcuffs anyway, but so sue me, I can’t find them anywhere.
“Other left Morgs, that’s the right side.”
Fuck me and my not knowing the difference between left and right. My cheeks heat and I hurry to the other side of the room and open the actual left top drawer, seeing the cuffs exactly where Gil described them to be. It’s the real stuff too, not those fluff ones they sell for fun. I don’t even know why this surprises me anymore because this is Gil we’re talking about. Gil who buys flogs on the Renaissance Fair because of their quality for his fetish bar. I grab them and hurry back to where Celia is struggling to get out of his hold and try to see how I can help.
“One wrist first,” he instructs me as he positions her arm so I can cuff them.
“Let me go, you freak!” Celia says in a shrill voice as her eyes are so wide I’m afraid her eyeballs might pop out.
We both just ignore her, and I try to focus on what I’m doing instead of the bigger picture. It’s a little weird to finally see her up close and personal. While I’ve seen her when she broke into O’s house, we haven’t been able to find her ever since. It felt like we could never grab ahold of her and she started to feel like a ghost. But now she’s here, in front of me and I’m just… I… I just stare at her. She looks like a normal girl, although maybe she could use a shower and a hamburger. I totally would’ve thought she’d be normal if I didn’t know she’s like this… like… well… this mess of a girl.
Gil takes her over to the wall on the far side of the room where all the windows are. He locks the other side of the handcuff to the central heating and lets Celia go before he steps back. My muscles relax a little as the tension in my body eases up. I find the calm I need to overlook the situation at hand.
Our stalker is wildly banging her wrist and the cuff against the central heating pipe, causing a lot of noise and making my ears hurt as I put my hands over them to try to soften the sound. Upside is I can’t hear the stuff she’s saying while talking batshit crazy anymore. Celia has a deranged and feral look in her eyes. Her hair is dyed in something that has to look like a dirty blond color I guess, but the dye job is botchy at best. The weird thing is that it reminds me of my own hair color. It looks like she hasn’t combed it in a while, but maybe that’s because of the struggle she just had with Gil.