Home.
I spent years trying to escape this place. All I wanted was to make a better life for me and my mother. I wanted all the crap that poor kids dream about—a grand mansion, nice cars, and fancy meals. I wanted her to retire, get off her feet, stop worrying about how she was going to make ends meet, and then I’d finally be able to pay her back for a little of what she gave me. The day I won my first title, I finally succeeded in earning enough money to get her out of here.
Twelve years later, I came back.
Who would have guessed the place I hated most in the world all those years ago would eventually become my safe haven? No one knows I bought this building three years ago. It would be a media circus if they did. Which is exactly why I bought this place to escape. Luckily for me, Jimmy was willing to put it in his name to keep mine, as owner, off public record. He even paid for it out of his own pocket to keep the paper trail from leading back to me. He did get a nice little bonus that year that more than compensated him for his efforts.
As I pull up in my economy rental car, an immediate sense of calm washes over me. Not the kind you feel after a few deep breaths or a stiff drink. I'm talking the kind of calm you feel in your bones. The eye of a tornado. The still after an earthquake. The silence after a hurricane. Calm.
I grab my small bag from the backseat and head inside. I never bring much with me when I come here. I never had anything before—why start now? Honestly, my whole first twenty years of life could have fit in this bag with plenty of room to spare.
I rush around the corner, ready to own that feeling for the next month of my life. It’s a feeling that I will eventually lose when I have to go back to my real life, but now that I have this place, I know I can always reclaim it.
"Shit," I hear as I turn the corner. A petite woman with mousy-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail is juggling grocery bags while trying to open her front door. Her bags slip from her hands and a carton of eggs opens, spilling all over the ground. "Shit!" she screams.
I drag a baseball cap from my bag, pulling it low over my eyes, and move toward her.
"You need some help?" I ask gently.
"Shit!" she screams again and jumps away, flattening her back against the door.
"Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It just looked like you might need some help."
"I'm okay. I'm okay." She breathes deeply, and if I'm not mistaken, talking to herself.
I reach down, pick up the mess of broken eggs, and shove it back into the plastic grocery sack. I tie it in a knot, readying it for the trash.
"You'll probably need more. Not even one egg survived." I smile, but she doesn't reciprocate. She stands silently with her back still pinned to the door. Her whole body is tight as she stares at me nervously.
F*ck. Based on that star-struck look in her eyes, I know she’s recognized me. I haven't even stepped inside yet and I've already been made. I'm starting to think her choice in vocabulary seems fitting. Shit.
"You didn't see me. Okay. Don't tell anyone I'm here," I whisper, and she visibly relaxes. Her eyes glide over my body, and she even leans to the side to take in my small bag.
"Did Dave send you?" She finally speaks a sentence that is not a cuss word.
"Who?"
"Dave. Did he send you?"
"Not that I know of," I answer, confused.
Her eyes narrow as she accesses me. It's only fair that I do the same. I rake my eyes over her body from top to bottom and back again. She's pretty. Cute, small, nice boobs, and trim figure. She's not hard, but she is fit. Like her hair, her eyes are brown, and aside from her unusual level of alarm, there's nothing overly special about this woman.
"What's your name?"
"Adam," I lie. She might recognize me, but if she's looking for me to confirm it, it's not going to happen.
"Where are you staying?" she asks, and I narrow my eyes back at her.
"Do I need to leave? Is this going to be a problem?" I ignore her question and jump right to the issue.
"No problem for you, but I'm going to rip Dave's balls off for not giving me a heads-up." She shoves open the door and moves inside.
Clearly, this woman is unstable. Just out of curiosity, I peek around her apartment as she walks to her kitchen. The entire room is open, not even a wall to separate the entryway from the kitchen. I can tell that her place is two bedrooms based on the hallway. It's the exact same floor plan as mine, only in reverse. It’s clean, but most of the furniture is older and well used. It actually looks similar to the place I lived when I was growing up. Well kept, but nothing nice. I smile and breathe in the scent of dust and mothballs.
"Are you a bloodhound as well as a bodyguard?" she asks, looking at me strangely.
"Bodyguard?" I question, and she tilts her head in confusion.
Suddenly, her eyes go wide and she takes two giant steps away from me. "How long have you known Dave?" she asks as her face pales. She slides behind the kitchen counter. I can see her head and shoulders over the bar, but her body is blocked. I can hear her digging through a drawer as fear transforms her.
I can't figure out why she is suddenly scared, but I think this would be a good time for me to leave. "I don't know any Dave. I'm sorry. I think you must have me confused for someone else."
"Cool Rider," she whispers as tears start to well in her eyes.
I shake my head as her words make even less sense. "Yeah. I'm going to go. It was nice to meet you..." I realize she never even gave me her name. "Anyway. I'm next door if you ever need anything," I throw in for some strange reason and immediately hope this odd woman never needs anything.
"We need to move!" I screech into the phone as soon as Dave picks up.
"What! I'll call it in now. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but there is a huge guy next door, and he helped me pick up eggs. I thought you sent him. I thought he was one of your guys to babysit me," I rush out incoherently.
"Wait! Do you think he's one of Wilkes's men?"
"I don't know!"
"Did you get a bad feeling?" he asks with concern filling his voice.
"I. Don't. Know!" I repeat on a frustrated shout.
"Riley, calm down."
"I can't. I thought—" I choke out a sob. "I thought he knew you, but then I said the word, and he had no idea what I was talking about," I continue, rushing out broken pieces of sentences.
"Okay. Well, did he try anything on you? Like, did he come in and look around or do anything that made you suspicious?" he asks, and I can tell he is still curious but he has already started to relax.
"No. He just stuck his head in and sniffed."
"Sniffed?"
"Yes, like a dog. He pushed his head inside and sniffed," I explain yet again, and he lets out a laugh.
"Can you blame him? That place stinks."
"So you don't think he's a threat?"
"I'll call and have someone look into it. He just sounds like our new neighbor to me. If you were obviously alone, there is not a chance in hell one of Wilkes’s guys would have left you standing there."
"Maybe they were hoping you would come back." When I get an idea, I screech, "Maybe he was sniffing for you!"
He starts laughing. "Do I stink? Can you smell me?"
"Sometimes," I whine.
He lets out a chuckle before getting serious again. "Stay inside. I'll get him checked out, okay? Did he give you his name?"
"Adam."
"Hang tight. I'll get him looked into."
"Okay."
"Oh, and Riley. We need a new word now. Your choice this time."
"Parakeet Breath," I blurt out.
"Wait, are you calling me that or is that the word?"
"Both."
"Well, okay then. I guess I'll pick the word again," he replies, and I finally let out a small laugh. "I'll look into him," he promises again.
"Thank you," I breathe, and only partly because he's looking into Adam. It’s mainly because, even from eight hundred miles away, he still makes me feel safe.
The knock on the front door startles me. No one knows we live here. It's not like we are expecting any visitors. I have no friends or anyone to randomly stop by. It’s sad, but I have no one in this world but Dave. Although, in my old life, I didn't exactly have anyone either—but at least then I had myself. That's a lot more than I can say now.
I sit on the couch, nervously staring at the door, just waiting for the salesman to give up and leave. But this person is persistent. The knocking continues for a few minutes before I finally hear Adam’s voice from the other side of the door.
"Um, I brought you some eggs," he calls out.
I cautiously walk to the door to look through the peephole.
"I wanted to apologize for scaring you earlier. I was at the store anyway, and I knew you were out," he says loudly.
"You didn’t have to do that," I respond to the door without even considering opening it.
"Well, I guess I’ll just leave these right here for you. Don't leave them out here long. In this cold, they are liable to freeze."
"Oh, yeah. Uh, thanks," I respond awkwardly, knowing good and damn well that I am not going outside to get those eggs.
Who the hell brings someone eggs? Maybe he is just luring me outside so he can kidnap me and take me back to whomever he is working for. But if that's the case, why didn't he just grab me when he had the chance earlier? Whatever, Dave told me to stay inside. That’s more than enough for me.
I move to the window and very carefully peek through the blinds. He lingers at the door, seemingly uncomfortable. Why is he nervous?
He runs a hand through his short, black hair. "Anyway. Well. Uh…" He stumbles over his words. "Have a good night."
I watch as he walks away. He doesn't look back or try to peek in the window. He just moves into his apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him.
I pace around my living room, trying to work out every possible scenario. If he is one of Wilkes’s men, why is he taking his sweet time making a move? It's possible that he’s just a nice guy, but he's freaking huge. He's easily six foot four, and he must work out all day to keep that body. Even through a sweater, I can tell he's ripped. I just don't get it.
My phone rings from the corner, snapping me out of my quickly approaching panic attack. "Hello."
"I don't know who the hell he is," Dave says across the line, "but I don't think he's a threat."
"He just brought us eggs." I say as if that obviously proves he has malicious intent.
"What?"
"Eggs."
"Why would he bring eggs?"
"I don't know! Do you think they are poisonous?" I ask, and Dave lets out an infuriating laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I'm scared!" I snap across the line, and he immediately goes silent.
"I'm going to send someone. You can argue all you want, but I don't want you alone and scared. This Adam guy seems harmless. The apartment is owned by some man named Jimmy Douglas. His record is squeaky clean. He's a boxing trainer out in L.A. I'm going to assume Adam is one of his fighters, probably down on his luck and needing a place to stay."
"He's really big," I whisper across the line, "so that at least makes more sense."
"I'm sending someone tomorrow. Hang tight. It will look like a date. He'll bring your favorite flowers since we don't have a word right now. And I'm not setting up a new one over the phone."
"Okay." I bite my lip so he can't hear the tears in my voice.
"I won't let anything happen to you. I swear," he vows tenderly.
"I know you won't." I try to smile, but it only forces the tears to spill from my eyes.
"Don't cry," he says softly.
"Stop using your superpowers to read my mind."
"I just know you, Riley. No superpowers needed."
"I'm going to head to bed and read for a little while." I dry my eyes on the backs of my hands as I search the room for a distraction from reality.
"Smutty romance?" he asks as the smile returns to his voice.
"Is there any other kind?"
"Goodnight, Riley."
"Night."