I got to the office about half an hour after I’d first jumped into the shower, something of a record time for me, and bounded up the stairs. Jordan and Rachel were huddled together, discussing something.
“What are you doing here?” Jordan said, her tone surprised but friendly.
“One day off was enough,” I said, making sure I sounded determined and professional. “I’m not going to let anything else stop me from working.”
“Well, OK,” she said. “I think a group of us are going to go for a jog on our lunch break if you want to come.”
“I—”
I had running clothes in my car. I always brought them just in case something like this arose.
“I will be there.”
But when I got to my desk and started to catch up on work, I realized just how much I had underestimated how quickly work could come through in my job. Even with just taking roughly two-thirds of a full day off, catching up on everything I needed to do felt staggeringly difficult. When Jordan and Rachel joined the others, I told them I’d do my own jog fifteen minutes later. Jordan looked disappointed, but she knew better than to try to persuade me otherwise.
They went around noon. I didn’t leave my desk until half an hour later, and even then, that was only because I knew I’d never get my workout in if I didn’t leave then. Some would say I got my workout this morning. I’m happy to say that!
The thought brought a much-needed smile to my face. Yeah, Nick and I needed another night like that as soon as possible.
I laced up my shoes, put my headphones on—without music, as I needed to stay aware of my surroundings—and headed for the front door. As soon as I got there, though, rather than head for the nearby park where we usually ran, I decided to take a more urban route, jogging through the streets.
The decision made the jog somewhat awkward, in that there was far more stop-and-go than I was used to, but I needed this enormous presence of people in case anything happened. Paranoid? Sure, but one couldn’t be paranoid enough with someone like Malcolm lurking, whether in reality or just in the back of my head.
I made it out about a mile and a half before I decided it was time to head back. Roughly a 5k would suffice for the day, especially considering how tired and wobbly my legs felt from the different kind of workout that morning. I started to head back to the office when a stoplight hit. I paused, jogging in place.
“Fancy seeing you here, Iz.”
Oh no. My gut sank before the sentence had even finished, before the thought had even formed in my head. There was no way. There was just…
There was absolutely a way. I’d thought it for the last twenty-four hours. There would be a way.
“You can ignore me, Iz, but I know you can hear me. I know you don’t listen to jack shit on those headphones.”
The cackling laughter that followed…God, why? Why?
I turned my head to the right enough. I didn’t need the visual to confirm what I already knew to be true.
Malcolm had found me.
“Like I said, fancy running into you here, Iz.”
“Leave me the fuck alone,” I growled. “Didn’t me putting your ass in jail give you any hints?”
“Wow, and good afternoon to you too,” he said.
This time, whether because of morbid curiosity or something else, I turned and looked at him in full. He was still the same cocky asshole as before, but he had hardened some. He’d gotten tattoo sleeves on both arms, and he’d unfortunately added some muscle, though not nearly enough that he would intimidate someone like Nick Ferrari. He’d always shaved his head close, but now, it looked like a military cut.
And fuck, he still had the world’s most punchable smirk. I seriously did not know how anyone just embraced or even felt neutral about him. That smirk was the kind of thing that not even a mother could love.
“I’m just jogging here, in the streets, happen to bump into you, I say hello, and you run me off like that?”
I tried ignoring him, but this wasn’t middle school. Malcolm wasn’t going to be held back by some psychological games. He was too relentless for that.
“Iz? Ohhhhh Iz? Izzzzz—”
“What?” I shrieked.
The light turned green. I had never jogged so fast in my life. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder.
But I didn’t have to. I could hear his feet striking the concrete beneath us, his breath staying with me. I was a good runner, but I was not a great one. There was no massive disparity in athleticism between the two of us.
“Why are you running away from me?” he said with such false innocence. “I thought you’d want to know what I’ve been up to. I know what you’ve been up to. Since you can’t keep your gold-digging hands off of famous baseball players—”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I said, but my exasperated tone said it all.
Malcolm just laughed at me, taunting me with that fucking awful shrill yip of his.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about? And you work in marketing? Wow, I always knew you were dumb and got jobs on your looks, but I didn’t know that was still a thing.”
He’s full of shit. You know you’re better than that. Do not let him get to you, Izzy. Unfortunately, such self-talk might have worked if I had to cross the street. It did not work when I had over ten minutes' worth of jogging left to do.
“Izzy, Izzy, Izzy. You keep going for these
