Shred of Evidence

I’m sure you know the feeling…the chill in the neck when you glance over your shoulder and realize you’re being followed. When no matter how many side alleys you turn into and how much you speed up or slow down, the same shady silhouette remains forty feet or so behind.

I didn’t know Ios—or any part of Greece—and I certainly don’t have a clue what fuming, wasted part of me assumed it would be safe to walk around the little town alone at night after my fight with Justin. I suppose I needed to take my mind off things, and the Mediterranean summer night was…enchanting. There was no better way to describe it. White houses with blue doors, grapevines climbing walls, the sound of waves breaking over rocky shores in the background, and hints of garlic and herbs lingering in the warm air. It was perfect. Until I noticed him.

At first I thought perhaps I was hallucinating. In a dark, hooded sweater, hunched back, and with shadows making his face indistinguishable, he was the stereotype of a stalker; the kind you only ever encounter in old-school horror movies. It took six irrational turns and two dozen glances over the shoulder to confirm that he was indeed real.

I freaked. My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of a better idea than to keep walking and glancing.

The alley I chose was narrow and short. In less than two hundred feet, it opened up to some sort of square, full of people. Even if this guy did try to attack me, there was a chance I’d be able to outrun him and disappear into the crowd. As long as I paid attention. As long as I didn’t—even for a second—cease to glance over my shoulder.

My heart pounded as I rounded the corner. Only a few doors faced the alley. There were no shops—not even a bar, which was unconventional to say the least on this island. If the stalker did turn into this street, I would know. But what would I do? Shit. I raised my face toward the star-spangled sky for the briefest of instants and pleaded. Please don’t let him come after me. Let this all be in my head. It was the worst possible timing. In life just as in movies, couples who have just had a fight are always the first ones to go.

Thirty feet into the alley I turned around, carefully, so he wouldn’t know I was aware of his presence. He was still there. Still behind me. In the dark alley.

I held my breath until my head spun. My eyes alternating between over the shoulder glances and keeping track of where I was going, I proceeded at a snail’s pace, it felt like. Only my pulse gave away the fact that I was more or less running.

When I reached the square, I disappeared into the crowd, leaned forward, and exhaled deeply. However temporarily, I was safe.

The patio of the main restaurant had a fence overgrown with ruby red roses. Their smell filled the air. Normally I would have never tampered with anything so amazing. Now was different. My life was at stake. I pulled branch after branch off it, ignorant of the pain and the blood that sipped into my palms. At least this way I would be able to defend myself. Somewhat.

I took my time, methodically pulling and glancing over my shoulder, each time to find the last thing in the world I wanted to see. Him. By now, all I wanted was to get back to Justin. But I couldn’t leave the square. Not with this guy after me.

With unfathomable courage, clutching the thorny bunch of roses like a weapon, I approached him. But to my great surprise, once he noticed what I was up to, he started to retreat. For each step I took toward him, he took one back. It wasn’t long before we were engaged in a wild chase. The crowd split in the middle, leaving us a perfect trail.

“Wait!” I shrieked.

If I was surprised to see him back off, watching him halt on my command had me flabbergasted.

I stopped, panting. He turned around and pushed back his hood. Up close, he didn’t look anywhere near as creepy.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He grimaced.

“I’m a security guy at your hotel. Your boyfriend asked me to keep an eye on you so you wouldn’t get lost or molested.” He paused. “Ios can be a dangerous place at night.”

As the adrenaline eased its grip on me, I trembled out of control. I smiled, then laughed. The fight felt a million years ago. I couldn’t even remember what it was about anymore.

“I think I’m ready to go back,” I told him.

I opened my bleeding hands and laid down my weapon.