Grace Street (A Chapter 8 Novel, #1) Read Free Page A

and often times bordering on the
ridiculous. She needed a distraction. Cueing some music on her
phone, she let the sounds of People Help the People by Birdy
crash against her body. The somber words somehow soothed her
anxieties of her past failures, and urged her to finish her
work.
    Walking past the large window, she spotted
the car that had been parked out in front of her apartment for
almost a week. She had just assumed someone new had moved into the
building, but seeing it here and now was a bit disconcerting. She
opened the blinds to get a better look and saw a man sitting in the
vehicle peering up at her. The sun was bright in the sky and the
angle of it nearly blinded her, making her unable to make out any
recognizable features other than his dark hair. Was it coincidence?
Alarm bells went off in her head telling her that it wasn’t.
    As she stood staring down at the parking lot,
unbidden thoughts of her family came to her mind. She had promised
to call and let them know she was safe. It had been five weeks
since her move to Richmond and she had only texted them, still
unable to find the nerve to call them. She didn’t want to hear the
cynicism in their voices or their lecturing about how wrong she had
been to move away from Boston instead of simply finding another
job. But who was it wrong for? Not for her. It had been the right
thing to do. She was sure of it.
    When her fuzzy thoughts came back into focus,
the car had driven away, leaving her to wonder who had been
watching her.
    The day came and went quickly. Viv invited
her to The Brewery again, this time without the company of the
asshole who had been invited previously, but Elsa wasn’t up to
it.
    Instead she showered, changed and decided to
catch a bus to Grace Street for a stroll. Unlike most people she
knew, she enjoyed public transportation and the opportunity it gave
her to be an uninvited spectator into the secret lives of
others.
    During her short walk to the bus station, she
felt the peculiar sense of eyes on her and on several occasions,
she stopped in her path to turn around and take in her
surroundings. The sun wasn’t quite set yet and low on the horizon,
but the shadows on the street were prominent, making the atmosphere
feel unsettling. Thoughts of being attacked and pulled into a
darkened corner besieged her. As panic began to surface, she
reached into her jacket pocket and tightly gripped her mace, ready
to burn the eyes of any would be assailant, and picked up her
walking pace. She couldn’t be sure if she was just being paranoid,
but she swore she heard footsteps behind her matching her pace.
    The bus stop was only a few hundred feet away
and she jogged the remainder of the distance, relieved when she
came to an overhead light where several others were waiting. With
her heart pounding in her chest, she eased herself onto the bench,
feeling somewhat safer in the company of others, though not
much.
    Suddenly, there it was: the smell of citrus
and bergamot. Surely she was imagining things. Her eyes darted
around and she leaned into the man sitting next to her, inhaling
his aroma, but all she could smell on him was his sweat. Just then
a large bus squealed to a halt in front of them. The doors flung
open and she pushed her way to the front of the crowd and scrambled
on.
    Once on the bus, she let out a loud sigh of
relief. Her mind was racing and her mouth parched from fear.
Sinking low into the seat, she scanned the bus, her eyes becoming
fixated on an amorous couple who were discretely trying to cop a
feel. A smile danced on her mouth at the sight of it. She felt
dirty watching them, like some kind of perverted onlooker, but she
couldn’t take her eyes off of them. When the petite woman giggled
and tried to pull away, the unassuming, thin man with black
horn-rimmed glasses got a wild look in his eyes and yanked her back
roughly and whispered something harsh into her ear as he slid his
hand up the inside of her thigh and under her skirt, making