by A. G. Khaliq
push me over the fucking brink.
“That's all my work done for the day,” I yawned to myself, as I powered off the computer in my office. “I feel like shit. I could murder a glass of wine right now…” I rolled my eyes. “Or a whole fucking bottle.”
I gathered my paperwork together, putting it away in the cabinet, before I closed up in the office, switching the light off, and locking the door before I left.
I made my way down the hallway, ready to go outside and go home. As soon as I reached the corridor, I fell slap-bang straight in the middle of someone, and they fell to the ground as I jolted backwards.
“Fuck!” I sighed exhaustedly. “I’m so sorry.”
I bent down to the floor, extending my hand out for them to take. I quickly realized that it was Yasmeen, and I couldn’t help but to laugh.
She dusted herself off, getting to her feet.
“We're always bumping into each other,”
she chuckled, fixing her hijab.
“I'm sorry, babe,” I giggled. “I’m such a clutz. I never watch where I’m going.”
Yasmeen laughed again, before furrowing her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes, as she began rubbing her chin in thought.
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“Have you got plans tonight, babe?” she asked, intrigued. “Maybe we could go out for a meal?”
“I'd love to…” I began, “but I feel like shit today. I just want to go home and sleep.”
And it was true. As much as I loved spending time with Yasmeen, and as much as I loved her company, I felt like fucking death.
Even a night out wouldn’t cheer me up right now.
Yasmeen nodded at me with a concerned expression on her face, looking understanding.
“That's okay. I hope you feel better soon. You know I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“I appreciate that, babe,” I thanked her. “It really means a lot.”
She smiled back at me. “Do you want a lift?” she offered, with her hands on her hips. “Or will Donte be giving you one?” she teased, shooting me a cheeky wink.
This only made me feel worse, as I was reminded of how brutally I’d ended things with him earlier.
“No it's fine,” I said quickly, trying my best to hide the sadness and disappointment written all over my face. “I'll make my own way home. Thanks for offering though.”
“Alright babe,” Yasmeen shrugged. “Take 295
care.”
I knew that she could sense something was wrong, but I guessed that she could tell that I didn’t feel comfortable talking about the situation.
“I'm gonna go out with my husband Mikail, then,” she went on.
“Have fun,” I grinned.
“I will do,” she smiled back, and then she waved at me, as I turned on my heel to begin making my way out of the building. As I walked away, now that I knew nobody was around, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.
It felt like my life had been wrenched away from me today. It was crazy how much of an impact Donte had had on me in such a short space of time of knowing him. Before this, if I’d never come to Manhattan, I would have gotten on with my life as normal, and taken each day as it came. But when I moved here to go undercover, it was like I couldn’t even imagine a life without Donte in it anymore, and it felt fucking ridiculous. He was all that was on my mind, every second and every damn hour of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and it was fucking me up badly. Ending things now just wounded me even more, knowing that we didn’t 296
give it our best shot or try. I wished I’d never thrown myself into his life, and that I’d minded my own business from the day that I met him.
Maybe then, I wouldn’t be in this stupid, sticky situation, fucking hating myself and despising myself, because all I fucking wanted was him.
I continued to walk down the street, needing to feel the fresh air in an attempt to make me feel better. There were so many people crowding around the busy streets of New York.
Bright lights, yellow cabs, skyscrapers, happy people…
But I still felt fucking alone, even surrounded in this busy area. I felt so fucking empty. Nothing would fucking make me feel better.
I continued to walk down the streets, one foot in front of the other, not even caring where my feet were taking me anymore. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I was just blindly walking. I needed to get my fucking head straight. I knew that going straight home and wallowing in self-pity in my bed would make me feel ten times as fucking worse.
I looked up to see that I was walking down a familiar street. I guessed that my feet were carrying me home, after all. I was so angry at myself, and so fucking hurt.
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But then…
I was barely halfway on my way home, when I saw a massive shadow looming over me.
I searched around to see if there was anybody there, my heart pounding against my chest as my face began dripping with sweat. I was fucking terrified. I could see a man staring in my direction, but his face wasn't apparent because of the dark. I couldn’t make out his facial features, but he was definitely standing there in plain sight, making it known that he had his eyes on me.
So I wasn't wrong…
I was being followed this whole time, and the whole time I thought I was being fucking paranoid! I’d convinced myself time and time again that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but it wasn’t!
Who the fuck was this man?!
“Who's there?!” I screamed, horrified and panic-stricken. It felt like I was fucking suffocating, and I couldn’t breathe. “Show yourself!”
I took steps closer towards the figure, but as soon as I began walking towards him, he turned on his heel, and began sprinting away from me, before I could get a look of his face.
I let out a blood-curdling scream, no 298
longer able to hide how petrified I was. I couldn’t just carry on walking home like everything was normal. A man was following me. This was very fucking real, and I needed to get to the bottom of this, before I put myself in danger. I had no idea what they fucking wanted from me, nor why they’d been stalking me.
“What's
going
on?!”
I
sobbed
uncontrollably, heat roaring in my ears as my surroundings spun around me until they became blurry. “Who was that man?! No, no, no, I need answers…”
Before I had a chance to change my mind, I broke into a run. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, and followed the man, sprinting after him. I couldn’t let him go so easily. I needed to know what the hell was going on.
I needed to remember my training. I had to will my body to move faster. He couldn’t get away from me so easily. He was just a few paces in front of me. I could hear his heart hammer against his chest. I could hear his laboured breathing…
Yet I had no idea who it could have been…
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38
maya
The man was running in front of me, one foot after the other, picking up speed with every second. He certainly didn’t play any fucking games. This wasn’t just a sick joke, or a nightmare that I would just be able to wake up from. This man knew what he was fucking doing. He knew how to play tricks on my mind.
He knew how to fuck with my head without making himself known.
I ran after him as fast as I could, just paces 300
behind him the whole time.
But he was picking up his speed so quickly, it was harder and harder to keep up with him.
I still couldn't make out his appearance because of how dark it was…
For fuck's sake!
“Who are you?!” I called out desperately, horror-stricken as I continued to sprint.
The man didn’t respond, or look back once. He didn’t want to risk exposing himself. By now, he was running so fast, that it was impossible to catch up with him. He was moving at lightning speed.
I clutched my chest, my chest heavi
ng upwards and downwards as I tried my best to regain my breath. It felt like I was struggling for air. I’d never ran so fast in my life…
I hadn’t ran this fast since I’d ran away from Fibonacci.
And I still couldn’t catch up with this motherfucker. It was no use. He was too fucking fast.
My heart hammered against my chest, heat roaring in my ears, my blood pumping through my body rapidly as I regained oxygen. I wiped the sweat from my face that had mingled with the tears, doing my best to calm myself 301
down and stop myself from having a fucking panic attack. I felt defeated.
None of this was making any sense to me.
Was this man just some weird creep who has a crazy crush on me, or was it somebody who had found out my true identity?
I didn’t understand how they could, or how it would even be possible for them to do that…
Because my old identity has been erased from files and the American database.
This was so goddamn strange.
I scratched my arm uneasily, as I dithered in the streets, lost in my own thoughts.
Whenever I felt like they were following me in the past...
They did nothing.
They didn't hurt me.
They didn't say a damn word to me.
And I found myself asking myself…
What the actual hell did they want from me?!
I drew a deep breath in, and a deep breath out, as I regained my composure. I needed to stop behaving so terrified. Surely, if this man wanted to kill me or harm me, he would have done it already? What would be the need in following me for such a long time with no rhyme 302
or reason? What would be the need in wasting time, and beating around the bush?
I tried my best to reassure myself. I was still a bundle of nerves, but I knew that being scared would get me nowhere. It wouldn’t fix this situation.
“I should get out of here,” I muttered to myself exhaustedly.
I took a sip of water from the bottle that I had in my bag, before I turned on my heel, and began walking back to the city, ready to make my way back to my apartment.
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39
the unknown
man stalking
maya
I made my way to an abandoned junkyard on the other side of Manhattan. I was out of breath.
Maya sure could fucking run, I’d give her that.
She almost caught me, and then I would be exposed, and my entire plan and operation 304
would go down to fucking shit. I was lucky that I got away. She might have been fast, but she wasn’t fucking fast enough to out-compete me.
It was why she hadn’t caught me thus far.
That was a close fucking call.
Maya couldn't know that I was following her.
The last thing I needed on me right now was heat from the feds.
I must say, though, I’d enjoyed learning and seeing what she got up to in my fucking absence. Trying to get dicked down by Donte, but failing in the romance department. It served the bitch right. She didn’t deserve happiness. It was karma. Karma coming back to bite her in the ass, after how much she’d hurt me.
After she tore me apart.
After she took my world away from me.
What did the stupid bitch think that she was playing at?
Moving away from Washington, thinking that nobody would find her.
The stupid bitch wasn't fooling anybody with her fake identity.
All it took was a face search on a database to pull up people who looked similar to her…
And I could spot her face on a security camera from a mile away.
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The bitch thought that she would be guaranteed safety by going into the Secret Service…
But there were some things from your past that you just couldn’t shake.
Some things that you couldn't just get rid of, couldn’t just eliminate!
She still had so many enemies…
And when the time is right, I will make my move on her.
I cracked up into laughter, a menacing fucking laugh.
The bitch had no idea about the shitstorm that she was about to face.
She had better look to both sides of the road before she crossed it…
Because God help her.
Nobody would be able to save her from me.
No.
Fucking.
Body.
It was my turn to unleash my monster.
Since she believed that there was a monster in all of us.
She thought that the murders were bad?
The murders that she was investigating? All the people who’d been raped or killed for being 306
involved in drugs, Alfonze Michael, Terry Roberts, Lily Graham…
She really had no idea yet.
No idea that it wasn’t Donte behind the murders. Compared to me, Donte was a fucking saint. I’d been keeping a close eye on him too.
Knowing that he only killed rapists and paedophiles.
But nothing would get in my way when it came to killing people. When it came to serving my idea of justice. I would kill people mercilessly, ruthlessly, with no fucking regrets. I would kill people for fucking fun. I’d put a bullet through a motherfucker’s brain just for looking at me the wrong way.
And Maya would get her turn. She would get her turn to experience pain, just like I did.
And nobody would be able to save her from my wrath.
Not even her pretty boy motherfucker Donte Abruzzi.
The man she became a fucking whore for.
The man she lost all her morals for.
All her fucking self-respect.
Gone. Out. The. Fucking. Window.
This is what happens when you get involved with fucked up men like me.
You get what you deserve…
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And I wouldn’t rest until I’d burned that Maya bitch six feet down to the fucking ground.
I.
Wouldn’t.
Fucking.
Rest.
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40
maya
I continued making my way home, my heart thumping against my chest.
What a fuck-faced shit hell of a day.
First I had to break things off with Donte, and now this…
A creepy bastard had been following me around.
I knew that he wasn’t following me now though.
He was so quick to run away.
So I guessed that I was safe for my journey 309
home.
I should've taken Yasmeen up on that offer of a car ride home…
I was so stupid.
I needed to stop walking home alone at night, no matter how I was feeling, or what emotions I went through that day. I was putting myself in danger as a result of it. Sacrificing my own fucking safety, just because things in life didn’t always go my fucking way.
Oh well, I was nearly at home now.
I continued to walk down the street, until my heart almost leapt out of my chest in horror as I heard sounds of shouting and fighting in an alleyway nearby.
Heat roared in my ears. I felt frozen to the spot in shock and fear, not knowing what to fucking do. I knew better than to get involved, especially at this time of night. That I should just carry on walking home, and it was probably just some street thugs kicking each other about and picking a pointless fight.
But then I heard a terrifying sound, and my skin almost shrivelled up to the point it felt like it was engulfing me.
It was the sound of a fucking gunshot.
I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing.
I couldn’t just walk home like nothing had 310
happened, and I hadn’t heard anything. It would sit on my conscience for the rest of my fucking life if somebody had got hurt, and I didn’t save them when I had the chance to. I needed to see what the hell was going on.
I began trotting towards where the noises were coming from
, petrified as my blood continued to run cold. I didn’t know what the hell I was about to witness, and in all honesty, I wasn’t fucking ready either.
I noticed three men standing in an abandoned car park, with not a soul in sight except from the three of them. One of the men was white, with rugged blonde hair, and blue veins in his eyes. He had a snake tattoo on his arm, and he was wearing a black balaclava, paired with black jeans and a black shirt. The man on the opposite side of him was wearing the same outfit that he was, and also had the same tattoo that he did, except he looked Puerto Rican. The man standing in the middle of them was a Chinese man, and he was clutching his leg in pain, wounded as blood gushed out of his leg.
I guessed that this explained the gunshot. He was badly hurt, but I felt relieved that he wasn’t dead…
There was a scrapyard right next to the abandoned car park where they were standing. I 311
hid behind a broken car, trying my best to make sure that I couldn’t be seen, as I watched them to see what the hell they were doing and what the hell they were speaking about. I whipped my phone out for good measure, recording what I could, in case I would have to hand this in to the police later since this was the shit that cops were meant to fucking deal with.
“That gunshot could've been in your chest, motherfucker,” the Puerto Rican spat angrily. “Consider yourself lucky that you're still alive!”
“Now we're gonna give you one last chance,” said the white man, shaking his fists angrily as his veins made their way to the surface of his skin alarmingly. “One last chance to come clean! Tell us what you fucking know!”
“I don't know anything, I swear!” the Chinese man cried hysterically, his face horror-stricken. “Please, don't do this! You're making a mistake!”
“You had your chance,” the Puerto Rican man roared. “You should've thought to know better, with all the people we murdered before you when they found out information. You had a chance to walk away and you fucked it up for yourself, you fucking bastard!”
He began battering the Chinese man with 312