Chapter Twenty-Two
Callie
The morning after I quit my job started out like any other morning. I got up, showered, and got ready. It wasn’t until I was grabbing my handbag and heading out of my dorm room I realized I now had no way to pay the bills. I was covered until the end of this month, and my final paycheck would cover next month, but after that, I was screwed with a capital S.
It meant I had around six weeks to find another job. There were plenty of other restaurants around, and with my experience, in theory, I could walk into any one of them, but who was I going to get a reference from? Marco? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t have done me any favors even before Matt fired him. Stewart? He seemed like a nice guy, but he didn’t know anything about me so he could hardly vouch for my work ethic or skills. Matt? Ha, there’s a joke.
I told myself to stop being so dramatic. I could always contact HR and get a standard company reference. Surely it would be enough to get a job? If all else failed, I’d have to find something else. Maybe I could see one of my professors and ask about doing some TA work, something I’d always tried to avoid because TAs worked an insane amount of hours and I didn’t want anything that would encroach on my studies. I wasn’t going to get myself into a financial mess to then fail my classes because I didn’t have the time to study.
I walk briskly, trying to outrun my thoughts. When my head wasn’t spinning with what the fuck I was meant to do for a job, it was filled with Matt. How he could have lied to me about who he really was all of this time? How he had turned all of my friends at the restaurant against me? It didn’t even matter that the latter part wasn’t directly his fault. It was all a part of the same thing. If he had told me the truth, I never would have blabbed to the others, but at least then I’d have been ostracized for something I had actually done. And I never would have taken the promotion.
I could see why they didn’t believe me when I told them I didn’t know the truth about Matt’s identity though. I mean who would believe that someone didn’t really know who their boyfriend was? If this had been the other way around and I wasn’t involved, I’d have either thought the girl was lying, or that she was incredibly stupid and naïve.
So yeah, that’s me. Stupid and naïve.
I scream inside of my head, telling my thoughts to just quit it, and for a moment they do, allowing me to focus on my plans for the day. I’m on my way to the library now to finish up a paper that’s due tomorrow. And then I have a couple of hours before my lecture, time I’m going to use job hunting. Maybe I’ll ask in the library, see if they need anyone.
As my head starts to clear and I am once more taking in my surroundings, I notice an all black car with blacked out windows moving along the road beside me. There’s nothing particularly alarming about the car. It looks like the sort of car a well to do lawyer gets driven around in, but the way it’s moving so slowly, like it’s tailing me, alarms me.
I tell myself I’m being paranoid, that the driver is clearly looking for an address. I need to be sure though. I stop walking and dig through my handbag, pretending I’m looking for something. Sure enough, the black car pulls into the curb behind me. Scared now, I begin to walk again, much faster than I was previously walking.
I scan to my left and my right, looking for a shop or a bar or something. Anywhere I can duck into. There’s nothing. All of the buildings on this street are residential, and I’m not about to barge into someone’s home with a story about how I may or may not have been being followed. I am being followed though. I’m almost certain of it.
My heart is slamming in my chest. I up my pace again, moving so fast now that I’m almost running. I keep my gaze straight ahead, trying not to look at the car. I’m just pleased there are a few other people walking along the street, otherwise, who knows what might happen.
I hear rather than see the window of the car going down, a smooth, electronic whirring sound that I never would have noticed if my senses weren’t suddenly hyper aware of the car.
“Callie,” I hear.
Fuck. I’m definitely not being paranoid. Whoever is in that car knows my name. I keep walking, my eyes darting around, looking for a way out of the street.
“Callie,” I hear again.
It dawns on me that I recognize the voice and I glance back over my shoulder, already knowing it’s him. Matt. I am right. He’s half hanging out of the window, calling after me. Looking at him now, even after everything, I can’t help but feel a wave of desire rushing through my body, but I ignore it.
I shake my head, roll my eyes and turn away from Matt. I keep walking in the direction I was heading in, although I no longer almost run. Matt might be a lot of things I don’t want to think about, but he’s hardly going to drag me into a car and abduct me.
I hear the car engine stop and the door open and then close. I hear footsteps behind me, running
