You're Not Safe

Chapter-Twenty-One-Emma

Today had been, yet again, unsatisfying. I left Murphy Grey's secret hideout with a completely blank expression. He was good, but I didn't have the heart to tell the man that our ten-thirties were getting a little fast-paced for my taste. I understood he needed to be at the studio more times than Kim Kardashian filled up her face with Botox, but he could at least try to make it last longer for us both. But then again, at most times, I questioned myself to see if I even had a heart.

Strolling back to the hotel, my hands balled into the pockets of my white coat, I was hit with the desire to do a quick surveillance in the same boutique that Crazy Shaheed had chased Araba and me out of. I silently thanked God that Araba wasn't with me at that moment. She'd run straight to the hotel and not look back. After greeting the clerk, who I'd realized always sported a similar fake smile, I wandered past aisles of cheap and outdated clothing. The heels I came across made me want to sue the store for all the dollars wasted.

Seriously, does this woman have better taste? I asked myself. It should be illegal to have these kinds of products on the market. I cursed silently when my stomach did a tiny rumble. I felt like ordering a bag of burritos and sinking my teeth into the tasty goodness with my legs draped across Araba's knees, and my back resting on the arm of the sofa as we watched the scariest horror movie of all time. Since I was three, I'd always been the hungriest in the evenings. Mom would curse at me for eating most of the food in the fridge back in my midnight snacking days.

I changed my mind about shopping for anything because the main reason I even entered this so-called excuse of a boutique stood right in front of me. I double-checked to make sure the clerk kept herself busy scrolling through her phone.

"Well, thank God she showed up," Shaheed said when he pulled back his hood. "And you came right on time."

I let out a chuckle because I couldn't take my mind off of how ridiculous his dreads made him out to be. Honestly, he looked way better with straight hair.

"Look, man," I said with a smirk. "If you're trying to master the skill of a stalker, at least make the effort to be mysterious. The hoodie gets you noticed in a city like this."

Shaheed sized me up with his eyes. "Don't you dare mock me, kid."

"Or I would advise you to take lessons from Mrs. Dadzie." I shrugged. "Araba's mom stalked my mom when it was assumed she and Mr. Dadzie were having an affair. Those-"

"Does Araba suspect we have been meeting each other?" Shaheed asked, but I shot him a frown.

"Don't interrupt me, Shaheed. You're lucky I allow you to near an inch of your niece. You lost the privilege of being her uncle years ago. So, if I were you, I'd stop being an asshole."

Shaheed shook his head. "Does my niece suspect anything between us?"

I nodded and smiled, much to his satisfaction.

"Look, I don't understand why she still hasn't replied. I wrote to her dozens of times. I thought you said you'll help me try to get her attention." He paused. "Unless you're discarding the letters. Of course, I should have suspected it all along."

I folded my arms. "You're a monster and don't deserve to be anywhere near her."

"You silly son of a bitch."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Hey. I am a bitch, but I'm not silly. That's rude. Another misogynistic remark from you, I'll shout to the nice clerk lady that you're trying to rape me."

Shaheed grunted. "Jesus. I regret thinking you were the friendly person everyone made you to be. Tell me why, Emma. Tell me the real reason you're not giving her all of my letters."

Shaheed started to bore me, so I did a one-eighty with our conversation. I asked him something I'd been trying to get off my chest. "Do you think Araba is obsessed with me?"

He raised a brow and fisted his pockets with his hands. Of all the times I met him growing up, Shaheed had kept his body in a lanky position. It was like his body was leaning against an invisible wall anytime he'd been in a tense situation.

"I want to know," I continued. "Since you've been watching and following us both for the past months. What's your observation?"

"I'll say yes. She is obsessed." He twirled his head and one of his dreads fell behind his ear. "My niece basically worships you. She worships the ground you walk on. She looks up to you so much. If you ask me, I've never encountered the friendship you have with Araba. It's very unhealthy. Unhealthy as my previous life in Ghana."

Memories of her silently watching me when I wasn't noticing twirl around my head. It was obvious the whole time. She rarely went against or argued with me. She'd always backed me up and defended me. On a realistic note, our relationship held a thin line between submission and unity.

"For God'sake, Emma, please help me reach out to her. I need to have an urgent discussi-"

"I wouldn't go near Araba if I told you what she's been planning," I said to shut him up. I hated the way he begged. It irritated the hell out of me. "Don't take this as a threat, but my personal advice. She's been writing a lot of murderous fantasies about you in her diary."

He bulged his eyes. "She has a diary talking about me?"

"She may seem innocent, but deep down, there's a lot of darkness. I read a lot of mean things about you and her parents. But those aren't the ones I'm worried about. There are some disturbing things she wrote that, I'll kid you not, even disturbed me. These are very dangerous ideas she's carefully concocted on her own and I'm worried she might carry out one of them. I can see it in her every day. She's near the tipping point of snapping. So, Shaheed, ask yourself this: why have I really been keeping your letters away from her?"

He swallowed hard and stared at me.

"I'm saving your miserable life. Whatever it is you want to tell her, forget it. She's far gone up here." I pointed to my head to give emphasis. A thought hit me before I turned away. "Oh, and keep this conversation between us a secret. Or I won't be there to protect you from her when she finally snaps."

I sauntered past the glass door with a smile on my face. With the windy evening California city air brushing past me, I thanked God that I'd met Shaheed tonight. Our secret meetings made me realize how important Araba was in my life. She was the only one I could connect with, even though I couldn't deeply relate to her. She was the only one that saw my true inner darkness and wasn't freaked out about it. My mother was fully aware of this darkness within me, but she acted like it didn't exist. She treated me like I was any other normal girl. Araba admired my darkness. And that was what I liked about her.

That's why it was my goal to keep her as my best friend at all costs. We'd be friends till the end. Till we aged like fine wine and grew too old to get laid. I would mold her into another me. I'd awake the true dark side in her and together, we'd be unstoppable. We'd be the Thelma and Louise of our own story. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized I wanted to draw closer to her than ever. I would even start liking the stupid, unfunny Murphy Grey show she loves so much. I loved that Araba was obsessed with me, because now, I was sort of obsessed with her, too. Mr. and Mrs. Dadzie would never keep us apart. We'd both figure out a way to make all her dark thoughts come true.

 How the hell did Emma get to read Araba's personal diary? You want to find out? Read the next chapter and vote.