"Dammit! Stop that!"
I rolled over and nearly rolled off the couch as Tori's ringtone jangled away annoyingly. I fished around for the phone - under me, nope - pocket, nope - floor, yup. The message read "R U OK?"
"Y"
"Look at your txt history."
I did. My last text to her was at four in the morning. "U'll n4 bliev the Jssy"
"Sry. I think I thought I was texting you and Jessie at the same time."
"What won't I believe?"
I called her. And told her what had transpired the previous night. When I finished, there was silence. Enough of it that I asked if she was still on the line.
"Yeah. Holy shit."
I snickered. "Something like that."
"Still think we don't have a stalker problem? Our building gets defaced, we get threatened, and then someone cuts your brake lines like two months later? That ain't a coincidence."
"I'm going to the school to get that figured out today. Hopefully they have cameras in that part of the lot. Honestly though, that's not the part that I thought would bother you the most."
"Ha. I'm not bothered or threatened by Sienna, though I think she is a bit of a stupid risk. But she isn't your student anymore, so...go have fun."
"You having fun?"
"Oh hell yeah. We're staying in Le Sueur in this tiny hotel that smells like pickles, and, well... You probably don't want to know the details."
I fought an odd, uncharacteristic twinge of...annoyance, forced myself to laugh. "Have fun, Tori."
"You too."
The call clicked off and I stared at my phone. Checked my texts, checked my email. I couldn't remember which I'd given to Sienna last night. Regardless, there was nothing new.
I dragged my hungover body off the couch, made coffee and a couple of sandwiches, ate and drank as I pondered the previous day's events. My life was weird. And spinning out of my control.
I showered, checked the news. Nothing interesting. It was a little after eight in the morning, and I wanted to get to the school early, talk to someone in security.
Unfortunately, it was the fact that I didn't have a car that I wanted to talk to them about. I looked out the window. Cold and foggy. Heavy fog actually. Mist the color of milk obscuring the street more than fifty yards away. Dammit...
It took me an hour to run the eight miles to the college. I smelled like a wet dog when I arrived, I was dressed in sweats, and I spent a good five minutes at the water fountain just inside the door, sucking down water or splashing it on myself.
Then I went looking for security.
I found them in the admin basement, an office the color of overcooked broccoli, an unmanned counter, two chairs, and a coffee vending machine that probably vended the same crap hot chocolate that I'd had at the garage last night.
It took five minutes of waiting and bell ringing to get anyone to the desk, and the guy that showed up, Keenadiid, looked so haunted and strung out that I doubted he would be of much help.
"Hi," I said brightly. "I'm Gary Galloway. One of the economics professors. My car was vandalized in lot eight last night, I was wondering if you had camera in that lot."
He stared at me, mouth slightly open, looking like I was a ghost appeared in front of him. I waved my hand. "Hey. Lot eight. Cameras."
He snapped out of his funk. "We have cameras..."
"Can I check them to see what happened to my car, maybe find out who did it?"
"You cannot look at the tapes, I am sorry."
"Ok. Can you look at the tapes? Tell me if you see anything suspicious?"
"I can look at the tapes." Keenadiid disappeared into the backroom, and I slouched down into one of the hard plastic chairs, breathed through my mouth so I wouldn't smell myself.
I dozed for an indeterminate amount of time, coming fully awake when my phone jangled in the pocket of my sweats. I pulled it out, checked the time. After ten. I had a text message, and it made me smile.
Sienna, looking up blearily at her phone, held at arms length over her. Her hair was wild, matted to one side and sleep crusted her barely focused eyes. She must've slept on a wrinkle in the pillow or a seam, because fading red lines were pressed into her cheek.
Her shoulders and collarbone were bare, and the sheet she was covered with tented over her breasts, a hint of brown nipple peaking out. I felt a rush of blood to my groin.
My phone buzzed again, and a new picture appeared in the thread, Sienna now laying on her left side, looking at the camera, half her face pressed into her pillow.
"Cute," I texted back. Then "Hot."
"What are you doing?"
"Sitting at school, trying to figure out what happened to my Jeep."
"How'd you get there?"
"Ran. It helped kill the hangover."
"If I'd stayed over, I could've driven you."
"But then I wouldn't have these pics of you this morning."
"But you could see me in person then. And I like it from behind in the morning."
"Good to know."
I texted "see u l8r" as Keenadiid reentered the room. "What did you find?"
"There are no cameras in lot eight. Too far out, too dark. I checked the cameras for lots seven and six, and didn't see anything." He seemed completely at ease, not bothered.
"So the school has no security measures, no protections in place at all when someone tries to kill me?"
"You said your car was vandalized, sir."
I could feel myself getting angrier. "Yeah, they vandalized it by cutting the brakelines. Can you understand why I'm a little upset now?"
"I'm sorry sir, but we do not have cameras in that lot."
I sighed, tried to regain my calm. "Do you have a supervisor?"
"Yes. He will return next Wednesday."
"Fine. I'll be back then."
The run back home exhausted me but did little to cut my burning anger, so I slammed water and more hangover food - thick egg sandwich with tomatoes, a side of honeyed toast - then dodged piles of wood and racks of tools in the basement as I put in a kickboxing workout on Tori's heavy bag, hammering the canvas with fists, knees, elbows, and feet so hard I thought it would pull the ceiling down.
I stopped only when I could literally no longer hit the bag, my skin raw from the strikes in half a dozen places, my chest heaving from the strain.
Then I showered and collapsed on the couch, my mind drained by physical exertion that had taken the place of a raging hangover. My alarm woke me at five and I groaned and dragged my aching body upright, went looking for something presentable to wear. I put on black jeans and a white button up, fingercombed my hair, and headed downstairs to find something to make for dinner.
No venison, mores the pity.
My phone buzzed, then again, and a third time.
More pictures. A pile of black eyelash lace laying on a bathroom counter. One of Sienna wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel, her blond hair slicked to her head with water, her face looking almost illegally young without any of her makeup. The third picture was an extreme closeup of lace against pale skin, so close I couldn't tell what body part was seductively barely covered.
That photo was captioned Be There Soon.
I settled on spaghetti for dinner, and I loaded up my pressure cooker with spices and tomato sauce, set it to hiss and burble in the background. I paced around my house, bored but anxious. Why was I nervous?
Was it just regular predate jitters?
I didn't think I got those anymore.
I checked the news, didn't see anything of interest, so I shut the convertible and sat at my desk, thinking about what the evening might bring. Planning my actions and reactions. Contemplating. Pondering.
This was a situation unlike any I'd found myself in, and it merited a few moments introspection.
Which I didn't get, because the doorbell rang.
I checked the peephole, then opened the door to Sienna. "Hey. How's it going?"
She looked flustered for a moment then walked in, shed her long black wool coat into my hands. "Its been a day."
I hung out on the back of my desk chair, looked her over. "Wow, you look great."
She'd straightened her blond hair and it dropped in waves around her face, skimming her shoulders. The red lipstick was back, a bit darker, and her eyes had been darkened as well, contrasting with her pale skin. She wore a starched white button up over a knee length gray pencil skirt. Her long legs were sheathed in striped black stockings, her usual soft brown boots riding halfway up her calf, and if that weren't sexy enough, her shirt had been been unbuttoned halfway, showing off the inner curves of her breasts.
"Thanks." She looked at me, almost like she was expecting something. Finally she broke the silence with "What smells so good in here?
I sat down on the couch. "Spaghetti sauce. I grow the herbs right outside the window." I motioned to my desk.
Sienna folded herself into the couch, leaning heavily against it and forward towards me, legs crossed. "You cook, garden, teach, workout, and make twenty year olds obsess about you," she said jokingly. "Is there anything you can't do?"
I snorted. "Your bar has been set ridiculously low. But thank you."
"You get any news from security?" Sienna asked, changing the conversation.
My blood boiled at the memory. "No cameras. No supervisor to talk to. I'll go back next week and chew off someone's head."
"That's really scary."
"Tell me about it."
We were silent for a while. An uncomfortably long while, that Sienna broke. "I did what you asked." He voice was small.
