A Step to Nowhere by Natasha A. Salnikova Read Free Book Online

something?”
    “Sure.” I turned to the guy behind the coffee bar, who eagerly looked at me. “Cappuccino, please. Tall.”
    “Sure. Your name?”
    “Monica.”
    “Okay, Monica.”
    I always used Monica in coffee shops, for no particular reason. It was my mom’s name. Now I said the name automatically. I took off the sunglasses. What if I were to miss something from behind their darkness?
    Ray walked back and forth by the market. People entered and exited, but I didn’t see anyone familiar. The sense of control of the situation and calmness that I’d gained in Ray’s apartment started to fade. I became nervous. Who was that person? What if Ray was in danger? I wouldn’t forgive myself. They could be dangerous; they could. Why not? How could I let him go to this meeting; and alone?
    The phone rang and I pulled it from my bag, almost dumping the contents on the floor.
    “Ray?”
    “Who’s Ray?”
    Leslie. I didn’t check the caller ID. No way was I going to talk to her about her boss, whom I’d had sex with just an hour ago, and who now was trying to identify my persecutor.
    “Les, I can’t talk right now.” I looked out the window. Ray strolled by the store.
    “Who’s Ray? I thought your guy’s name was Jason.”
    “He is Jason. He’s my guy.”
    “You weren’t talking about Bancroft, were you? Do you talk to him? You guys had a weird relationship.” I heard too much excitement in my friend’s voice. She was the one telling me that my boss had an eye for me.
    Why is she talking about him now?
    “Of course not,” I lied honestly.
    “I just left his office. He’s out of it today. Needs to chill.”
    “Who?”
    “Bancroft, of course. I …”
    “You mean you saw Ray?”
    “That’s what I’m talking about. He …”
    “Les, you couldn’t see him, because …”
    “Monica! Cappuccino! Enjoy!”
    A paper cup landed on the counter.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “What for?”
    “It’s for coffee I just got.”
    “What do you mean I couldn’t see Bancroft? I just came out of his office. He’s steaming!”
    I noticed my hands shaking. I felt panic approaching. It came from nowhere, without an invitation, and enveloped my mind.
    “You couldn’t be in his office with him ,” I said angrily, turning to the window.
    Ray was gone.
    I almost dropped my cup.
    Leslie kept protesting, but I didn’t hear her words. Phrases hit against my brain like tennis balls. I disconnected the phone and squeezed it in my hand. Ray wasn’t by the farmer’s market across the plaza. He was gone.
    Did I imagine the last events? Am I crazy? I wanted him so badly and finally I lost it. What was I seeing? Oh, God, am I schizophrenic? What about the followers? Did I make that up too? Did I?
    The phone in my hand came to life and I threw it on the table, scared. Then I put the cup down and grabbed the phone, looked at the lighted screen. It might be Leslie again. Les was going to confirm my diagnosis and suggest seeking help.
    A little letter on the top of the screen telling me that somebody had left a message. Did I really see it?
    My hand shook when I opened the message.
    Ray’s number.
    Waiting for you behind the building.
    He was not imaginary and I wasn’t crazy. Leslie was.
    I rushed to the exit, trying to calm the panic that was making my legs weak. I almost knocked down a woman who was entering. She was dressed in a pink, ruffled dress and looked like an angel, but cursed me like a truck driver. I could hear her screaming at me until I skirted the corner.
    There were trash cans behind the building. A red cat slept on top of one of them. No sign of Ray. Before I could turn around, a cold palm covered my mouth; a strong arm spanned my waist. At the same time, a black car with tinted windows dashed out from around the corner, tires squealed. It wasn’t the Mini that had been following me, it was a big SUV. The door of the car flew open and a strange, young man jumped out. He helped the person holding me to