But while the city came toward me, he did begin to dawn what he really did. Done straight at me, definitely no question. Every time my mind wandered to that, chills ran down my back. Whoever was in that place, he wasn’t after me alone. Not by a long shot. He was going after everything I care about, everything I’ve built. And that included Natalie.
The fact that she of all people could be dragged here scared my soul, and I wasn’t going to let that become real. I was going to confront whoever it was-to put a stop to them before they could get anywhere near her.
I turned away from the window. I decided that this wasn’t about me. It was about the people around whom I wanted to live this life for and protect. And it was for them that I was willing to fight to my last droplet of blood.
I came and picked up the phone, dialing Tony’s number again. He answered on the first ring this time.
“I want you to place some additional security on Natalie, discreet for the moment, but extensive. I don’t want her to know, but it had to be known, no chances.”
“Consider it done,” said Chad after a great deal of measured time, his voice somber. “Understood.”
As I hung up, I made a fresh resolution: he was going to get nothing out of me. I would find him, and I would stop him, no matter what it took.
I made that promise to myself back with a whisper that told me this was bigger than I had realized, more ominous than I could have intuited, and worst of all, I didn’t know where the next threat would come from.
All of that, really, bled through: my mind having absolutely no space for anything else. My mind continued to roll back to the unknown threat hanging over me, even in meetings that I attended and passed by. My anxiety was always on edge at the buzz of my phone, my mind half-set for the bad news.
I had to leave for my place from the office when it was almost going dark, with shades of the trees slowly coming over the city, and by the time I was in the office, the sun had gone down. My mind just did not accept the idea of walking back. The feeling of being watched just continued tossing and turning inside me: the feeling of each step being watched or followed upon, probably by somebody on the dark side.
I finally got home, parked my car, and sat there for a moment of reflection. Natalie was in the kitchen with the staff, preparing dinner while I made my way upstairs.
I continued, as was my habit, to round my house every night to see that all was safe-a useless precaution, as it then appeared to be, for the more I considered it, the less I was able to conceive how anyone could possibly pass the doors of the library undetected.
The fear was of a vague indefinite kind, and I knew that it was not anything about which I could argue with myself, still it had stolen upon me like a chill, and turned my very soul to water.
I went into my room to shower and change my clothes. My phone vibrated in my pocket again. I looked at the screen, half expecting it to be Chad with an update on the situation.
For once, I was entirely wrong in my expectation, and this time, it wasn’t Chad the message was merely a text from some unknown number.
‘You’re getting close, Brandon. But you’re not there yet.’
My heart pounded as I read the message. The words hurtled through me, my fear was the primer. In God’s name, who the hell was this, and how had he known I sought him?
I skipped the message, not replying to me but another message popped
‘Be careful who you trust. Not everyone is who they seem.’
My body tensed, and the anger inside me worked as a coiled spring, ready to burst with new rage toward my phone. Annoyance, after all, is not something I take very well. Yet as much as I would have liked to get this responded to wisely, I knew that I had to be all about it because whoever it is, well, they are playing a game, and I need to figure out the rules before I make my next move.
I took a deep breath and tried to quell the storm San Brigade had whipped up inside of me. I could not let this get to me. I could not afford to. Not now. My mind seemed to think clearly, so I would think clearly. There, I thought I must stay sharp.
I wrote back reflexively, without thinking through the words: ‘Who are you? What do you want?’
There was a lull in which, for a minute, it seemed they would never respond, then another message.
‘You’ll know soon enough. Just mind you look over that shoulder.’
That message sent chills down my spine. It was raising goosebumps under my skin and making me hang onto myself by my whitened knuckles all over again. I mean to break out in goose prickles and send the goose over me; but it was all down, outside, away below.
I glanced at the phone, but I could find nothing in the answers there. Whomever this was, he was playing a dangerous game.