Caramel (wlw)

chapter 12 - who?

The most responsible course of action would be to let law enforcement do their job, but I have trust issues and the shop is a short walk away, so after writing Laura a little note in case I'm not back in the morning, I went there myself.

The blaring of the alarm came within earshot just as a police cruiser pulled up in front of it. I jogged as two officers emerged from the doors.

"Good evening sir, please stay back," said one of them as I got close.

"Hi, yes, I own the shop."

"In that case, please stand back, ma'am."

Nothing seemed out of place, but I just watched them go after giving them the security key. When they pushed at the door, it swung open with no resistance. Okay, so someone did break in. A few minutes in, the alarm stopped. It took them a little longer to fully check the shop.

"Nothing's out of place or tampered with except the front lock, and there's nobody inside. Now," the cop said, "why are you here?"

After answering that and a few other questions, they got back in their car and drove away. Once I was inside the shop, I tried to lock the doors, but it really was broken. I guess I'm camping here tonight.

That's fine, there's a couch. Wish I was dressed in something other than sweatpants and a hoodie though. Shoving an armchair against the glass doors, I flop onto the cushions and lie on my back. Now, I really shouldn't sleep because some rando could walk in at any time, but even pragmatic thoughts can be overpowered by exhaustion.

I then wake up to a still-dark sky through the windows and a man standing over me.

"What the fuck?" I said, as he dropped his knees onto the couch and grabbed fistfuls of my shirt.

"Where's the other one?" he said, hoisting me up by the shirt.

"What?"

"You're not the one I want. Tell me where it is, and you'll never see me again." Even with my hands gripping his wrists, he was still able to shake me. His eyes were red-rimmed and dilated; was he on drugs?

"I've been looking for a long time, and I've finally found it. Are you hiding it?"

I realized that this was the same jittery, staring man who has been frequenting my shop lately. Hell, he even has the same bowtie on as earlier. The gravity of this situation didn't really sink in until he slammed my head back. Where are those cops?

My phone rang from my pocket, and I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing, because the man jumped off of me, sure, but he also flashed a knife in my face. He reached into my pocket and answered the call.

"Val? Are you still at the shop? I got up for water and your door was open, plus I read your note. Val?"

The man's face began to morph into an expression of glee as he held the phone closer to himself. I took this opportunity to launch myself over the back of the couch, away from the knife and the man wielding it.

He chucked the phone at me with Laura still in the call. I caught it, ungracefully, with my shoulder. It clattered to the floor as the man leapt over furniture, blade in hand. I picked up a chair and threw it at him.

He made an oof sound when it hit him across the chest and slowed him down enough for me to scurry further away. I didn't know how much longer I can keep chucking chairs at him with the same precision, but I know I didn't want him near me.

"It's coming here. You don't have to run." I paused mid-sprint and looked back at him standing a good few meters away.

What's coming? As if reading my mind, he opened his mouth to speak, but a crash from the front of the shop distracted us both.

Shoving through the glass doors, past the armchair barricade, was Laura. Then she whipped out a gun.

It was like someone flipped a switch: the man's face turned stoic as he forgot about me and turned to her. He almost dropped his knife, only to grip it even harder before he spoke.

"You," he said, spitting venom.

"Leave, or I'll shoot," said Laura, gun in hand, pointed at him.

And I'm just standing there, a spectator, about to lose my goddamn mind.

His whole body relaxed and he lowered his knife. Tucking it back into his blazer, he traipsed over to the door as Laura stepped away, still aiming the thing at him. He gave a parting message.

"You will not get away. Not this time." Then he walked out into the night. Or very early morning.

I was too busy fearing for my life, so I didn't notice Laura looking absolutely shaken until I went closer. The gun, though lowered, was held in her still-trembling grip, so my solution was to gingerly pluck it from her by the barrel. She let go without a word.

"Do you have a license for this thing?" I said, trying to ignore what just happened.

She still didn't answer, so I wrapped my arms around her and set her down on the couch. Maybe I should get her a drink? I got up to start the machine, but she held me by the shirt. "Stay."

And so we stayed there, leaning and shivering against each other. Neither spoke for a while, but when I finally raised a question, her whole body tensed and hands gripped against me.

"Who was that man?"