Snarky Bastard

by Adeera Lake

  Her expression changes immediately and in the few seconds, it takes her to elaborate what I just said, the tension is palpable.

  “You know, it’s really dangerous for her.” I furrow my eyebrows. “Last time she almost died,” I murmur with a serious expression.

  The cute blonde hostess chews the corner of her lip letting out a slight frown, and when she meets an old lady’s glance - which screams ‘For the love of God give him what he needs! – she lets out a sweet smile. “What’s her name?”

  “Grace! Grace Lords!”

  She looks at her computer screen typing her name on the keyboard. Then she takes a few seconds to check it carefully. “I’m sorry Sir but it looks like she’s not on this flight.”

  “Are you sure?” I blurt.

  “Yes, Sir I’m sure. Maybe it was another airline?”

  I stare at her wondering if I really got the wrong flight. All the people who saw the show are waiting for my reply.

  Then a sudden spark flashes into my brain, and all at once, I understand what it was bugging me.

  ‘The concierge! My God, the concierge! It was midday when I left. He’s the night concierge for Christ’s sake!’

  “Thanks!” I tell her, and before she can even reply I start to run toward the exit.

  When I’m out I realize the waiting line for the cabs is too long but fortunately, there are those blue cars always available.

  A tall African American asks me if I need a ride to town and I don’t think twice about it.

  “Yeah! But you need to be real fast!” I groan.

  “You bet I will Sir! Come!”

  We reach his car and this time I get into the front seat.

  “Ok let’s go!” I groan fastening my seat belt. “Fast buddy! Fast!”

  He grins, and as he drives away, my body is pushed back to the seat.

  “There ya go,” I mutter.

  42

  Grace

  My sleep has been disturbed by continuous thoughts and doubts. I can’t miss that job’s opportunity, but I can’t leave without having cleared everything with Zac.

  I don’t want to live my life regretting what it could have been.

  He’s probably going to turn me down, but at least I won’t leave with remorse and heartache.

  I sent an email to the University and I asked them to give me an extra day to give them a final answer. They said yes and if they didn’t I wouldn’t have left anyway. My luggage is ready. I am ready. But I need to speak to him clearly. I want to look into his eyes and ask him to be honest with me and with himself. I want to tell him about my feelings.

  I bite my thumbnail pensively and I smirk delightfully when an idea strikes my mind. I’ll surprise him by showing up at his tattoo studio. I imagine his expression when he’ll see me walking in, and that makes me giggle. My heart rate increases and my palms get damp. It’s almost lunchtime and I fancy maybe we can go to a restaurant together. I can’t wait to be with him. Even if he’d tell me to fuck off. At least I would know it wasn’t meant to be. But what if it were?

  I don’t want to live with ‘what if’s’ for the rest of my life.

  I did my best to look good for him. I’m excited. I can’t believe I’m doing this, I think, as I head to the front door and I glimpse at the luggage wondering if I’ll have to use it. But my heart skips a beat when I hear the doorbell ring. In fact, I almost jump.

  ‘Oh my Gosh this could be Zac?’ My blood pressure raises immediately. ‘Maybe he’s gonna ask me to stay!’

  I frown biting my lower lip with my front teeth.

  I feel my heart pounding against my ribcage and my lips curve up into a smile. But when I open the door and I see Lawrence - the night concierge - I’m utterly disappointed. Yet, try to smile anyway. But I know it’s not a happy one. It’s not real.

  “Hi Lawrence, is everything ok?” I squeal.

  He grins. “Hi Miss Lords, I’m sorry to disturb.” He clears his voice awkwardly. “But the gentleman in the apartment below is complaining about a water leak on the ceiling. Do you mind if I check the pipes under the kitchen’s sink?”

  “Oh really?” I bit my lip guiltily. “No, at all! Sure, please come in, Lawrence!”

  He smiles thankfully, and as he steps in, I turn to close the door. But I suddenly and unexpectedly feel something on my nose and mouth. My God, it’s his hand!

  ‘Oh God, why? Why???’

  I try to fight and resist. I frantically kick my legs as he pulls me back, but he’s too strong and my laments are completely muffled.

  I perceive a sweet odor as he tightly presses a damp piece of cloth on my nostrils. He bends my arm forcefully behind my back holding it tightly, causing me an intense pain. But my senses are fading. My eyelids close.

  ‘I don’t wanna die! Please, I don’t wanna die like this!’

  This is my last thought. Then, darkness falls.

  43

  Zac

  The ride back feels like a torture. I feel guilty and stupid for not having gotten it right away. I should have known better to warn her about that fucking man. I’ve never liked him. I’ve always known there was something wrong with him. My fifth sense told me. But I’ve been lazy. I wasn’t focused enough. And I damn myself for it. I hope I’m wrong but there are too many coincidences.

  I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at her. The way he said hi. And then, the unknown stalker’s messages she showed me that evening. I should have connected them to him earlier. I should have understood right off the bat when I saw him today. He’s the fucking night concierge, and he worked last night. What would he possibly be doing there in the middle of the day??

  There is a damn traffic jam due to a car crash a couple of miles before the exit, and my frustration intensifies. I grit my teeth and I start cursing madly.

  “Oh, Maaan!” The driver cringes apologetically.

  We are stuck. The cars don’t move at all and I’m going nuts. My pulse increases. I need to do something.

  “Take the emergency lane!” I groan.

  He glances in the rear mirror. His forehead wrinkles worriedly. “You gotta be crazy. I can’t lose my permit. I’m sorry Sir.”

  I snort. “Hey, listen, there’s a girl in peril! Now, I’ll respond to the consequences whatever it happens to your license! Ok?”

  He stares at me in the rear mirror for a couple of seconds.

  “Come on! Take that fucking lane! A girl is in danger!” I yell. Then I try to recoup, and I lower my tone looking at him calmly albeit not being calm at all. “You won’t lose anything, I promise,” I tell mutter.

  He stares at me pensively for a few more seconds.

  “Ok, Sir.” He looks back and turns the wheel to the right, then he drives into the emergency lane and starts speeding.

  A rush of adrenaline runs through my veins as we pass the cars on our left.

  I can see the exit sign ahead in the distance.

  44

  Grace

  I slowly open my eyes. I feel the bitter taste of bile in my mouth.

  “Good baby, wake up.” I hear a familiar voice next to me.

  My vision is blurry. I can’t distinguish his face, but he’s so close to me that I can smell his bad breath. Then I remember everything, and a tingle of terror runs up my spine. I instinctively try to scream but I realize I can’t even disclose my lips, which have been sewed with large scotch tape. My hands are tied behind the chair where I’m sitting. Right in the middle of the living room. My feet are bare. But fortunately, I’m still wearing my jeans and my top.

  My eyes get watery for the frustration. I want to ask him why is doing this but in an instant, it hits me.

  He’s the one. He’s the damn stalker. That’s why he knew almost everything about me.

  I feel the scotch tape dragging my skin as my lips curve up into an ironic smile. How stupid of me.

  He’s the night concierge and when he showed up at my door in the middle of the day I haven’t suspected the slightest thing.<
br />
  My vision slowly clears and when I look up I feel nauseated. I hate him with all my heart, but I hate myself even more for having been so blind and naïve. I’ve always treated him well, and now here I am. Tied up on a chair in ‘my apartment’ with a fucking psycho. My heart goes crazy at the thought and my throat aches.

  He grins at me with eyes that I’ve never noticed. His glance has changed. Now is icy and devilish.

  I feel a warm tear gliding down my right cheekbone. The urge to pee is killing me, and I feel my brows furrowing and my chest moving up and down due to my fast breathing.

  “I’m sorry Grace but I just couldn’t let ya leave like that,” he says calmly.

  The pupils of my eyes widen in fear as I look at him questioningly.

  “You are mine. I told you.” He says motionlessly. “I TOLD YOU! GRACE, YOU ARE MINE! YOU UNDERSTAND THIS NOW???” He unexpectedly yells loudly, causing me to jump on and blink. Little sprinkles of spit hit my forehead; then he grits his teeth staring at me with rage. My heart races uncontrollably and I start sobbing. Tears run profusely down my cheeks, and I feel completely lost. I know that’s it. Never would I have imagined that I’d have died like this. Killed by a psycho in NYC.

  Lawrence’s breathing has quickened but he stares at me, slowly regaining his composure. He changes again and lets out a sick smile. Then he chuckles nervously. “Why? Why you don’t love me Grace?” He frowns.

  ‘Jesus Christ he’s completely outta mind!’

  I moan in my throat looking at him with a crying expression.

  “You wanna tell me something?”

  I rapidly nod and keep moaning.

  “You need to promise you won’t scream, otherwise I’ll have to kill ya, right here.” He shows me the shiny blade of a huge knife he keeps in his belt and I suddenly feel the need to throw up. I exhale through my nostrils. “Hmmmmmmmm!” I hum, nodding several times.

  He picks the scotch tape on its corner and tears it off, causing the sticky adhesive to make me gasp due to the intense but quick pain.

  I let out short little gasps as he stares at me with an amused expression. He slightly tilts his head to one side as if he were a monkey examining something new and unknown.

  ‘Think Grace! Think!’

  My whole body aches. I don’t know how long I have been tied to this chair. My wrists burn, and I feel the rope sinking into my skin every time I try to move them.

  “Lawrence please don’t do this,” I blurt trying to hide my terror as much as I can.

  He cringes and discloses his mouth slightly. “Do what? Do-What?”

  “Don’t get mad like th-”

  “DON’T GET MAD? WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME GRACE!? WHY YOU LITTLE WHORE???” He yells spurting drops of spittle against my face.

  I instinctively twitch, and I gasp. Tears pour down again.

  “Please,” I sob. “Please Lawrence.”

  “PLEASE? PLEASE?!” He grabs his knife and places the blade on my jugular vein. It’s cold and sharp and I feel the warmth of my dense blood slowly gushing out.

  I sob out of control, but then I try not to move, holding my breath, despite my desire to pass out.

  When he drags the knife back I exhale the air from my lungs and I close my eyes for a moment. My cheeks are soaked with my tears and I sense my neck slightly wet with my own blood. I know it was just a warning. He could have killed me if he wanted to. But if I don’t try to read his mind and behave accordingly, the next time could be the one.

  My heart thunders. In a moment my whole life flashes before my eyes. Then I decide to play my last card.

  “Lawrence, look. I was trying to talk to you. I wanted to tell you I’ve always liked you a lot. But you know?” I try to giggle nervously. “I’m kinda shy, ya know?”

  His expression changes instantly. He seems confused and baffled. He’s completely taken aback by my words.

  I chuckle, and I let out a sarcastic smile - inside I’m dying of fear and my legs tremble, but this is my only chance. “If I only knew. Oh, Gosh Lawrence. I didn’t know you like me!”

  He keeps staring at me with a quizzical glance.

  “Lawrence, you remember I always say hi sweetly to ya right? I even worried about you being cold or having enough hot coffee, right? You remember that, right?”

  He leans closer in slow motions, studying me as if I belonged to an unknown animal species. “Yeah, I remember that,” he finally mutters.

  I smile as sweetly as I can. “Why do you think I did that? Who else did it in this building uh? I bet no one right?”

  He starts believing I might be speaking the truth.

  I stare at him directly in the eyes. “I love you, Lawrence. I really love you. And I want you to come with me to Hawaii.”

  He’s puzzled and disorganized. He hadn’t planned this. And I need to be grateful for all the movies and books I’ve read in my life.

  “Really?” He asks.

  “Yeah, really.”

  My heart pounds fast and hard against my ribcage. So hard that I fear he’d be able to hear it.

  A weird grin springs on his face. Then he steps forward and cups the back of my head with his right hand before leaning over to lay his lips on mine.

  45

  Zac

  When the blue car speeds in the emergency lane passing the crash the caused the traffic jam, two cops get quickly in their vehicle and start chasing us with the flashing siren on.

  “Oh no!” The driver laments.

  “Keep goin’! Keep goin’! Get rid of them!”

  They are far enough and as we take the exit I can’t see them anymore. But I know they won’t let us get away.

  “C’mon! Faster! I’ll take care of everything and I’ll give ya a cash bonus!” I groan frantically turning my head back to check how far the cops are.

  I hear the typical whistle of the NYC police sirens in the distance, but I don’t see them as we drive into the streets of Manhattan. Yet, I know they are not far.

  “Ok right here!” I yell.

  The driver stops abruptly causing the tires to make a loud squeaking sound and my body to bounce forward. I grunt holding the front seats.

  “Tell the cops everything!” I growl as I rapidly push the door open and madly rush into my building.

  The elevators are busy, and I can’t wait. I run to the stairs and I climb them two steps at a time. When I’m in front of her door I’m panting.

  “Grace?!” I call.

  I hear her screaming and my heart races. I’m raging and I start punching the door with my fist.

  “Zac!!! Zaac!”

  Then she stops.

  “Grace! You mother fucker I’m gonna kill ya! Let her go! Let her go!” I yell out of my mind.

  I can’t hear her anymore.

  I’m frustrated. I’m raving with fury. But I know I need to think clearly. Then it hits me. I suddenly recall the day I ran into Grace in the building’s gym and I quickly checked the smartphone she had left on the treadmill accidentally looking her apartment’s door code number saved in there.

  My mind is exploding. My heart pounds fast and hard against my ribs. ‘Ok, Zac! Breathe!’ I tell myself, trying to visualize those numbers. I almost got them. I know them. I close my eyes cringing and then I try to insert the five number on the side of her door. But an irritating sound tells me the code it’s wrong. The digital screen says I have two more tries. My breathing quickens and my vision blurs, but I try my best to regain focus.

  I recall that day. I try to re-live that moment. Then I see them in my mind, but the last number is foggy. I try to digit it anyway, but I hear the damn beep one more time.

  Last try. I breathe deeply and slowly release the air from my lungs. I’m torn between two numbers. Then I pick the 0 and as I put the code in for the third time, the door magically clicks open.

  I rush in and I see the night concierge standing before Grace, who is tied to a chair, her mouth covered with a piece of large scotch tape. She’s crying,
and her eyes widen in fear.

  The concierge seems baffled when he sees me, and I quickly take advantage of his bewilderment to stomp toward him.

  46

  Grace

  I’m resigned. I’ll have to let his kiss him if I want to survive this.

  His breath smells and his lips are damp with sweat. I’m disgusted but I can’t afford to show it. But after a second he has laid his mouth on mine I hear Zac outside the door and I can’t believe it. My heart races. The concierge drags back and stares at the door seeming confused.

  “Zaaaaac! Zaaaaac!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  He keeps punching the door, calling my name and cursing at the damn concierge. I’m about to howl him the code to let him in when Lawrence zips my mouth with the scotch tape causing me to frown in terror.

  ‘That’s it’

  I know I’m going to die, here, today. Like this. But then I see the door clicking open and Zac crazily running inside.

  It all happens so fast that I don’t even have the time to realize what’s going on.

  The concierge tries to hit Zac with his knife, but Zac quickly bends and avoid the shiny blade, violently throwing the fat man on the ground.

  I hear a big thump as Lawrence hits the floor and then I see Zac start punching his face.

  I’m crying relived. I can’t believe Zac just saved me.

  Zac has knocked the man down, and he quickly stands and untie my hands and attentively removes the scotch tapes from my mouth. We instinctively hug tightly and kiss. I’m crying, and sobbing feeling an intense sensation of gratitude and love.

  “I love you Zac! I love you,” I keep sobbing.

  “I love you Grace, my God I love you so much!”

  When he says that tears pour down my cheeks profusely and I feel an intense tingle right in my heart.

  “GET ON THE GROUND AND PUT YOUR HANDS BACK! NOW!” Two cops break into the apartment, their arms tensed and stretched forward, tightly pointing their guns at Zac and the concierge, who now lays unconscious on the floor.