I have about thirty minutes before sunset, and I hope he sees the message before then. I’ll wait for an hour. If he doesn’t come, I walk away forever. And if he does, then I can try to find out if he’s working for the old man. That’s why I have the weapon. I may not have been trained to properly use it, but I know how to unlatch the safety, point, aim, and shoot. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.
My computer speakers alert me of a new message causing my body to still and my stomach to flip-flop wildly. The bench I suggested we meet at has cameras overlooking it. He doesn’t realize the town has a security system that is monitored, so even if something happens, it will be on video.
I open the message and find his words staring back at me.
BP: The park it is. Till sunset, Beauty.
It’s been almost an hour. I don’t feel as if anyone is watching me. But I’m nervous all the same. I keep turning my head, looking left, right, and even behind me, but I don’t see anyone making their way toward me. I should’ve brought my air pods. Perhaps music would’ve calmed me down somewhat, but then I wouldn’t have heard if anyone was approaching.
The sun is almost gone, the sky a bright orange filtering off into dark red. It’s always so beautiful at this time of day. Normally, I’d be running through the trees, maybe even all the way up to the lake. But for now, I’m sitting on the park bench, flicking through social media I no longer use.
The life I left behind halted the day before I ran off. The photos of my past staring back at me, reminding me of a time before all the bad shit went down, and for a moment, I miss it. My friends, the college I wanted to attend.
My dad was meant to keep me safe, not have me sold off to someone. Sadly, the marriage he had arranged wasn’t something I wanted. He never asked my permission, and he never allowed me to speak up about my feelings.
All those memories are shadowed in darkness now. I blink, allowing a tear to fall, and then I quickly swipe it away. I don’t need to get melancholy right now; I need to keep my focus on my surroundings.
I’m about to stand when a hand lands on my mouth, silencing a scream attempting to tear from my lungs. The hot breath of him is on my neck, and my heart leaps into my throat as fear grips me.
“Don’t scream, Beauty,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just . . . I can’t show you my face, and this was the only way to do this.” He doesn’t move his hand, but his lips whisper along my cheek. I could grab my gun; I could shoot it into the air and alert passersby that I’m afraid, but I don’t.
I nod, hoping he’ll release me.
“Once I move my hand, I need you to keep looking forward. You wanted to talk; I’m here to talk. But that’s all I can offer you.”
I nod again, my eyes shut tight as I pray silently that he’s not going to pull a knife on me. But for some unknown reason, I feel confident that if I need to, I can run. We’re in a fairly public place, and if I scream, someone will definitely hear me.
Slowly, his hand moves and my mouth is free. He trusts me not to scream. I can feel his heat, but he doesn’t touch me. I don’t turn around because I promised him I wouldn’t, so instead of looking into his eyes, I look ahead of me.
“Why did you want to meet?” His voice is a deep baritone filled with gravel. There’s also a hint of confusion in his words.
“Because you understood,” I tell him.
Silence greets me, and I wonder if he walked away, silently, just like he appeared. But then he responds, “I do. I grew up around darkness, and I became it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because if you were, you would’ve hurt me already.”
“Is that why you brought a gun?” he challenges, forcing a gasp of surprise to tumble from my mouth. “I can see the holster strapped to your thigh.”
“I had to protect myself.”
“It’s stupid of you to come here.” He’s right; it was stupid, but I trusted my gut. Intuition has never led me astray.
“Perhaps.” I lean back against the cool wooden bench. The feel of him closer now, and I wonder what he looks like. “Why don’t you want me to see you?”
“Because if you do, I can’t promise I’ll be able to let you go.” His words spike a shiver that races through me. There’s a dark promise there, hiding in plain sight.