Boston's Man-Eater

LIII

The first thing when I arrived at my apartment was to check all the rooms—that includes the wardrobe, refrigerator, and every single inch that could harness a threat. 

I was in the clear...for now. But Mason's intentions still appeared fresh in mind.

Tess called me a little after 3, just to make sure that I was alright and had taken my medication.

It would've been odd not to account to the occasional, merciless stabs, and the rise in temperature rose.

But I handled that well.

The truth was, Marisol was right.

I needed to watch my back, and even sleep with one eye open just in case more people were sent to end my life.

I don't know why she was the way she was, but I couldn't trust her either.

For fuck's sake, I didn't even feel safe around her, and quiet Ayanda wasn't going to be an exception.

I had thought of women to be gentle like creatures, seeking out to be nurturing, inspiring, the perfect picture of what angels looked like in heaven, but boy was I wrong.

It was time for dinner, and I couldn't order take out or junk food because of my health. So I set out to the supermarket by foot, just to catch some fresh air and exercise a little.

The night was setting in, and the twilight leaks had vanished for the day, but it was when the Boston City fully awakened.

The streets were busy, and the polychromatic lights beautifully illuminated the different crowds.

It felt so good to be alone.

And because I remembered Marisol's warning, I discreetly looked over my shoulder, and much to my relief, there was nothing unusual.

Smiling to myself, I whistled an old tune as the supermarket appeared a few blocks away.

From my peripheral vision, I saw a sleek Mercedes Benz pulling over just in front of me. But I scooted away, fearing anything and anyone who seemed to be wealthy.

My shoulders slumped when I went past it, the stranger staying in position without regarding me.

But before the celebration of my triumph commenced, a light tap on my shoulder startled me.

"Kyle!" A girl with a bright smile greeted.

I behaved awkwardly, possibly grasped onto a rude extension as I couldn't recognize her from anywhere.

But that wasn't something new.

My biggest talent was the tendency of forgetting as fast as I could remember.

"Hey," I said unsurely.

She slapped my shoulder, feigning offense due to my lack of courtesy.

"Why do you look confused?How are you doing, Kyle?"

"I'm fine...I don't mean to be rude but, who are you?"

"It's me, Catherine! I must say I'm a bit disappointed that you forgot," she pouted, hooking my arm as we continued down the sidewalk.

"Oh," I said with discomfort.

Catherine? Catherine from where?

"So how's the writing coming along?"

I glanced at her as the lights glowed on her round face.

"Pretty great..." I replied, frantically raking my brain for a Catherine.

"Really?"

"Yes."

She still chattered, administering a free-spirited demeanor that made me want to increase my distance from her.

"Where did you say you were from again?"

"Remember that place you attended two—"

She suddenly placed her gloved hand over my nose and mouth.

Surprised by the entry, I spun out of her grip, thinking I was going to faint from the sudden action.

It was when the Mercedes parked beside us that I realized that Mason was out to get me, so I twisted her arm behind her back as her eyes glistened with tears.

Not wanting to waste time fighting her, I shoved her behind me to the ground and turned to sprint away.

"Almost there," I panted, but another arm, stronger than the girl's grip, tugged on my neck as a cloth was addressed on my face.

I was instantly weakened me. So much that I collapsed in their hold.

"Let go..."