by Ellie Danes
“I'm not dating him. He's just a friend.”
“That's why you've slept over at his penthouse twice now? Come on, I wasn't born yesterday.”
“What do you want?” I hissed.
“I'm just a messenger. Your father wants his money back. It's that simple. You have a week from today to get it to me – or I'm going to pay your boyfriend a visit. And it won't be the friendly kind either.”
“Wait, can't we—”
“No, we can't. There won't be any negotiating on this. You have one week.”
He stood up and threw down some money for the coffee, and then strode out. Dread was seeping through my veins, weighing me down and blackening my soul like ink spreading across tissue paper. What the hell was I going to do? I didn't have ten grand, and I couldn't get such a sum together, not in a week.
I went to the kitchen, turned on a kettle and stood in the steam for a while, allowing it to heat up my forehead and make me sweat. Then I poured some hot water onto a rag and put it on my forehead to heat it up. I then went over to my manager and put on my best sick face.
“You don't look too good,” he said.
“I've come down with a fever,” I groaned. “It just hit me out of nowhere. I... I need to go home.”
He touched my forehead, which had just been heated up by the hot rag.
“Oh, damn, you're burning up!” he said. “All right, all right, get outta here – but you're not getting paid for this hour. You've only worked for fifteen minutes.”
“That's fine,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Now I gotta find a replacement,” he grumbled. “Go on, go!”
I hurried out, frantically trying to think of a solution to this problem.
CHAPTER 14
Colin
SUNDAY
I couldn't believe this had happened again. Things had gone so amazingly well with Skye, and she had told me she would call when her shift was over – but I had waited hours and hours, and eventually, when I had called the restaurant, they told me that she had left early, on account of her being ill.
I’d tried calling her, but like before, the calls had gone straight to voicemail. I had sent texts, too, but there had been no response. I had messaged her on Facebook as well, but ditto – no response, nothing.
I still didn't know where she lived, so it wasn't as if I could go to her place and talk to her in person. I paced around my apartment, I tried to play guitar, I tried to watch movies – but I just couldn't get my mind off her. What was she trying to do? Why was she doing this to me? I just couldn't get my head around it.
The day came and went, and then night fell, and still there was no word from her. What was going on here? I had woken up in such a state of joy and contentment, and now I was down in the dumps. What had started out as a wonderful day had turned into a nightmare. Why on earth was she doing this to me?
I eventually had a few whiskeys to take the edge off things and managed to fall into a fitful sleep.
MONDAY
I awoke the next day feeling drained and miserable, and called Carly to tell her I wouldn't be coming in today. No, I was going to get to the bottom of this thing with Skye. Things couldn't go on like this; they just couldn't.
I decided to head over to the dance studio, imagining that she would probably be working there.
However, when I walked in, I saw that there was someone else working the counter. I asked her about Skye, and she told me that Skye wasn't scheduled to work at the studio today. All right, well, I guess I could cross this place off the list.
After that, I headed to the restaurant. If she wasn't there... well, then, I really had no idea where I would find her.
I walked in and a pretty waitress greeted me with a warm smile.
“Table for one, sir?” she asked.
I guess I did need a bite to eat, even though my appetite was gone on account of this whole thing with Skye.
“Um, yeah, all right, table for one... Tessa,” I said, noticing her name tag.
“This way, please.”
She led me over to a table and I took a seat. “Could I get you a drink while you decide on what to order, sir?”
“Got any eighteen-year-old single malt whiskey?” I asked her.
“Um, no, sir, we don't serve hard liquor here.”
I looked up at her. “I'm not actually here for food. Do you know a waitress here named Skye?”
“Yes,” she said, looking surprised. “You know her?”
“I do, yes, and I'm trying to find out where she is. My name is Colin West, by the way.”
A look of realization came across her face. “Oh! You're Colin!”
I nodded. “That's me, yes.”
“Skye's told me a lot about you. Um, don't you have her phone number?”
“I do,” I replied, “but her phone has been off since yesterday morning, and I don't know how else to get hold of her. Is she going to be working here today?”
Tessa shook her head. “No. She actually called in about an hour ago, saying she wouldn't be coming in today because there were some important things she needed to take care of.”
“Did she say what these 'important things' were?” I asked.
“No... she was pretty vague about it. Sorry, Colin, I don't know what else I can tell you.”
I stood up and sighed, shaking my head disappointedly.
“All right, thanks for your help.”
“Sorry I couldn't be of more help. I hope she contacts you soon – you seem like a really nice guy, and she's a great girl, one of my best friends and one of the best people I know. Good luck...”
Good luck, yeah... I was gonna need it. Lots of it, it would seem...
CHAPTER 15
Skye
SUNDAY
I got back to the church shelter, feeling like my entire world was crumbling to pieces around me. Everything had gone wrong, and the fact that everything seemed to have been going so right up until this point made it even harder to deal with. I couldn't believe how I had thought that my past wouldn't ever catch up to me though... I had done a terrible thing, and karma always finds a way to get back to a person – and right now, it had come straight back to me, and it was biting with a vengeance.
I took my bag to the bathrooms – the only place here where I would be able to have a bit of privacy – and locked myself in a stall. I got the old brown paper bag with all my money in it and started counting. There was just over three thousand in here, which I didn't think was too bad a total. I had imagined, all those years ago when I first ran away, that the ten thousand dollars I had taken from my dad wouldn't last me too long; maybe a year or two at the most.
However, I had quickly learned to be self-sufficient and had soon learned about how to live frugally, how to cut corners in the right places, and how to make a dollar stretch as far as it possibly could. Plus, there had been all the part-time jobs I had had over the years to help me get by and supplement my income.
Still, even with working multiple jobs, I hadn't been able to save, and the amount had steadily dwindled. I had used the money mostly on food and other essentials over the years, occasionally on places to stay, or clothes or other things, and sometimes dance lessons at cheap studios here and there – I had refused to let that dream die. Clinging to the hope that one day I could dance properly again was the one thing that had kept me going through all the tough times.
When the sum total of my money had dropped below four thousand though, I had decided to move back to the shelter. As much as I disliked it there, with the total lack of privacy and, of course, the fact that I had this stigma attached to me of being a homeless person, it was the only way I could stop the money hemorrhaging. Rent was a major expense in this city, even if you were staying in the smallest, dirtiest and most crowded hovels.
And even though I’d had to move back to the shelter, things had seemed like they were looking up. But things can't go right for too long without disaster striking. I had learned that many times
.
And now disaster had struck yet again. I don't know how, but my father had found me. I don't know why he hadn't come himself, why he had sent that ugly tattooed thug instead, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that he knew where I was, and that he wanted his money back – and that he was prepared to do terrible things if he didn't get that money back. And I knew what my father was capable of, knew that it would be a very, very bad idea to test him on stuff like this. No, I had to get that money back to him somehow, because the consequences would be very severe if I didn't.
I sighed as I thought about Colin – I had dragged him into this whole thing as well. That really wanted to make me cry. He was such a wonderful, compassionate, kind-hearted man, someone who really didn't deserve to be involved in something like this. I couldn't believe how awful it was that I had managed to bring something like this into his life.
There was only one way I could make sure that his life didn't get ruined by this – and it wasn't what I wanted to do, but it was what I knew, deep down, that I had to do: I would have to cut him off, cut him out of my life completely so that his life wouldn't be tainted in any way by this sordid business of mine.
I broke down and started crying as this realization hit me. I cared so much for him, and I wanted so badly to be with him. I knew that I was in love with him and that I cared for him in a way that I had never cared for anyone else in my life before – and it was for this reason that I had to cut him out of my life.
I just didn't know how to tell him this... So, I did what I had done before. I turned my phone off and cut off contact but silently promised him that I would message him – the last message I would ever send him – when I had the courage to do so.
MONDAY
I was still wracking my brain, trying to figure out a way to come up with the ten grand I owed my dad. I had now wasted an entire day and a whole night trying to figure out what to do about this situation, but I hadn't managed to come up with anything. I had called the restaurant earlier to say that I wouldn't be coming in – and as soon as I had turned on my phone, I had been inundated with messages from Colin, none of which I had read. I wasn't yet ready to talk to him.
I turned on my phone again now, and this time a message from Tessa came through. It said that Colin had been at the restaurant looking for me. She said that she hadn't told him where I lived or anything, because she knew that perhaps I didn't want to be found. I texted her back right away.
Thanks for the message, and thanks for not telling Colin where I am. I really appreciate that. I need to talk to you, but not now. All I can say for now is that my past has finally caught up with me. Don't worry, I'm okay, I'm safe, but there are some things I need to take care of – and one of those, sadly, will be cutting Colin out of my life. I'll tell you more later. X – Skye.
I sent the message and turned my phone off again, and then unlocked the bathroom stall and trudged back to my cot. I put the bag with the money in it under my pillow and lay down. Colin was on my mind, and to be honest, I couldn't get him out of my head. Conversations we’d had, moments we had shared, the way he looked, smelled, felt and tasted... it all kept playing on repeat in my head, and soon the tears were flowing down my cheeks again.
“I'm sorry, Colin... I really am,” I murmured to the empty room. “I'm so, so sorry...”
CHAPTER 16
Colin
MONDAY
I had walked around the restaurant and the dance studio for a couple of hours, hoping to perhaps catch sight of Skye, but my search had been fruitless. Night had now fallen, so with a sigh, I decided to go back home and give up.
As I was walking back to where I had parked my car, an image came to mind – an image of myself and Skye, hand in hand, walking through the park as the sun set. She had looked so gorgeous, and the smile on her face had been one of such sheer, intense delight, that it had made me feel as if I had died and gone to heaven. This one image triggered a cascade of other images, all of them tumbling through my mind – and all of them were of her, with her beauty, joy and passion for life.
I knew then that I couldn't just give up, not like this. There was one more option, and I was now determined to use it.
I got my phone out and looked through my contacts, stopping when I reached Fred Danzig. I called him up.
“Hello, Detective Danzig speaking,” he said in a curt, gruff tone.
“Fred! It's Colin. How are you, buddy?”
Instantly his tone of voice changed. “Colin, my man! It's been a while! When did we last hang out?”
“Sheesh, I think about four or five months ago. I've been busy.”
“So have I, man, so have I. Wife, kids, and this job... Never a spare moment.”
“I know what you mean, bud – even though I have neither a wife nor kids.”
He chuckled. “So, what's going on, Colin? Still making millions in the real estate business?”
“I'm doing well enough, yeah. There's actually something I was wondering if you could give me some assistance with. I can take you out for a dinner and whiskey this evening and tell you about it, if you can manage to spare an hour?”
“Sure thing, man. We need to catch up anyway.”
“I'll pick you up in an hour, if that's all right?”
“Sounds good. You haven't forgotten where I lived, have you?”
I laughed. “I sure haven't. I'll see you soon.”
LATER THAT NIGHT
Fred sipped on his whiskey, leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Oh, man, that's good stuff – seriously good stuff! It's been great catching up with you. We really have to do this more often. But tell me, what's this thing you need help with?”
“Well, I told you about the girl I've been seeing,” I replied. “But what I haven't told you is that she's missing. And I don't know why, but I think it has something to do with her father. She ran away from home eight years ago and hasn't seen him since, but there was, uh, there was bad blood between them, and I think he may be after her or something.”
I didn't tell him about the ten thousand dollars of course.
He nodded. “Well, look, I can look through the records at the station tomorrow and see what I can find, if you can at least give me a name.”
“I don't know what his first name is, but his surname is Slade. She told me he was an alcoholic, a drug addict, and that he was dealing marijuana. And as I said, that would have been around eight years ago.”
Fred nodded. “Slade, marijuana dealer. Sure, I'll look through our records and see what comes up.”
“Thanks, Fred,” I said. “I really appreciate that.”
“Anything for an old buddy,” he said. “Man, I miss those high school days. Things were so different then, huh?”
He started to reminisce on our days in high school, and while I nodded and smiled and loosely followed what he was saying, my mind wasn't focused on it. Actually, it was only focused on Skye.
THE NEXT MORNING
I had only been at work for around an hour when my cellphone rang. I took it out and saw that it was Fred.
“Hey, buddy,” I said as I picked up the phone.
“Hey, man,” he said. “So, I did some digging and found out a little something about a Mr. Slade who spent some time in the slammer after being arrested for selling pot eight years ago.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “What did you discover?”
He told me, and I had to admit that I was surprised... very, very surprised.
“I wonder if Skye knows?” I murmured.
“I don't know... but if you find her, you'd better tell her,” he said.
“Yes, I'd better,” I said. “I must...”
CHAPTER 17
Skye
I woke up on my cot, feeling drained and confused; I had obviously fallen asleep while crying, as my eyes felt puffy. It was late in the afternoon, and I still didn't have any idea about what I was going to do to get the ten grand to the tattooed man.
I looked up at the clock on
the wall and saw that it was just after five, and the first of my dance classes, the classes I had won in the auction – well, the ones that Colin had pretty much won for me – was due to begin at six.
One of the most highly regarded Latin dancers in the country was here at the Hanover School for a few weeks, and I had been so excited about getting lessons from her. At least this was something to look forward to, something in which I could find an escape from the pain and sadness I was now mired. Dancing, my oldest friend, my first true love. At least, I still had that...
I got up, went to the bathroom and did my best to clean my face up. My eyes still looked puffy though, even after a thorough cleansing, but sadly, there wasn't very much I could do about that.
I neatened up my hair and tied it up then went to my locker and packed my dancing gear, along with my old and very well-worn dancing shoes, into a bag. I desperately needed new dancing shoes, but with this crisis in my lap, there was no way that was going to happen. Perhaps I could ask the people at the school if they knew any dancers who had old shoes in my size that they would be willing to give away. It would be a sting to my already-wounded pride but I was used to such things after eight years of living on the streets.
I walked out of the shelter and headed over to the nearest subway station, trying to remain focused on and excited about the upcoming dance lesson. I tried my best not to think about the whole thing with my father's money, but there simply wasn't any way I could get it out of my head.
I got on the train and was lost in my thoughts the whole way and almost missed my stop. I only just managed to get off the subway before the doors closed.
As I was walking out of the train station, the realization hit me: I had 7000 dollars – well, 7500, to be exact. Well, I didn't have the money yet, but I was pretty sure I could get it. And if I added that to the three grand I had, I would be able to give my dad the ten grand back.
I checked my handbag as I exited the station. I still had the napkin with the bald tattooed man's number on it, but I wasn't going to call him just yet. No, I first had to make sure that I could get that 7500 dollars.