Our Love

Quinn

"Thank you so much, Brenda. You're so amazing." I thanked her for the millionth time for giving me a ride. She had made sure either herself or her son got me to and from the office and to and from the diner for the last three days. I hadn't heard from Wade about my car, but I hadn't exactly reached out to him either. I felt incredibly guilty because I knew whatever repairs he made, well I'd likely not be able to afford them.

"Honey, you know it's no trouble at all and I'm here to help." She patted my shoulder as we sat in her car in the parking lot of my complex. I worked my eight hours at the office, still adjusting to company work, and then finished a six-hour shift at the diner. The same schedule I'd kept for the last three days and what I intended on keeping for the foreseeable future.

"I owe you for sure, and please thank Gavin for me, again. I really do appreciate it." I said goodbye and headed upstairs to my apartment, unlocking the door and heading inside. To say it was run down would be a bit of an understatement. This building was old as dirt and needed to really be just torn down. The walls were dingy and the floors creaked with every step. This small one-bedroom apartment was costing a tiny fortune considering its condition but the utilities were included which helped a little.

I dropped my bag onto the tiny sofa and scooted my way into the kitchen. I looked through the cabinets and the refrigerator for something appealing to eat, but not having been to the grocery in a few days making sure my options were limited. At eleven at night, I sat eating peanut butter straight from the jar while going over my budget for the following month. My first paycheck from the firm was going to be amazing and I couldn't wait.

Just as I finished my shower and crawled into bed, my phone lit up. I grabbed it off the nightstand to see that Wade was texting me. Despite my exhaustion, I was suddenly wide awake and anxious to see what he had to say.

Wade: I hope I'm not disturbing you. Your car should be ready at the end of next week. I'm waiting for one more part to arrive. I'm so sorry it has taken this long, I've had to tinker with it a bit to get the issue resolved.

Me: No trouble. Thank you for letting me know. I'm sorry it's been difficult.

Wade: You're welcome. Don't be silly, it's not your fault. I will keep you updated as it goes. How's the job?

I smiled at his text.

Me: So far so good. I've enjoyed it and I'm figuring it out, slowly but surely. Thanks for asking.

Wade: Good. Have a good night, Quinn.

Me: Have a good night, Wade.

I laid the phone down next to me and cuddled up in my blanket. I was just about to doze off when I heard my phone ping again. I tugged it toward me, expecting to see something else from Wade but instead, I felt my blood run cold and the room start to spin.

Unknown: I know where you are and I will get you back.

How in the hell did he get my number?! Only a handful of people had my number and no one I could think of would willingly give him my phone number. I sat up in bed, my breathing erratic. I was heading into a panic attack. I hadn't had a true panic attack in at least a year. The last time I saw him. I got up from the bed and began pacing around. I had gotten used to the noise and activity outside the apartment but tonight, it felt unsettling.

I was finally getting settled here, I landed an amazing job and financially, things were going to be looking up and I could get a better place. I didn't want to pack up and leave again. I liked Carrie, I liked Mr. Asher and I liked working with Grant. I was starting to relax and feel happy. It's like he could sense it and had to ruin it.

What if it was a random wrong number, though? That was a possibility. They recycle numbers all the time. Maybe the message wasn't meant for me. Should I respond? Play dumb? What if that gave off some kind of information as to my location though, I couldn't risk that. I kneeled on the floor next to the couch, trying to take deep breaths. I scrolled across the screen and pulled up the message box. Staring at it for a few moments, I decided to go for it.

I'm sorry. Who is this?

I waited with my eyes closed, breathing in through my nose and out my mouth. I managed to stand and go into the kitchen for a glass of water. My hands shook as I took a drink. The noises outside were getting louder, so I stepped to the window to peek out through the half-broken mini blinds. It appeared to be the usual folks who hung around into the late hours of the night. I relaxed, only slightly and headed back toward the couch. Just as I sat down my phone went off.

Justin. I told you, fuck w/ my girl and I'll smash that face in. I know where you are and I will get you.

Ok, I let out the breath I had been holding, feeling relief wash over me, and then I laughed. An insane, ridiculously long run of laughter. This was a totally random text from some guy. Total coincidence that his wording would cause me issues. I quickly shot off a reply.

Sorry, Justin. I think you have the wrong number. I'm a girl and I've never met you, or your girl. Good luck with all that.

I made my way back to the bed, crawling up into it and pulling my blanket up to my chest. I knew five would come too soon, but after that brief emotional roller coaster, I wasn't sure I could bring myself to sleep anytime soon.

4 real?! Sorry. My bad.

I felt comfortable enough with the response that it was indeed just a number mix-up. I laid back, staring up at the ceiling. I hoped there would come a time when I wouldn't be so wound up, where I felt safe again. It had been a year in total, but only two, almost three months since the last contact. I was tired of living in fear, looking over my shoulder, and freaking out over things like this. I tossed and turned the rest of the night, getting little to no sleep.