Menacingly

Chapter Two

Angela had attempt and was failing miserable at getting herself up and ready to leave her tiny apartment for the past two hours. She pulled her dark brown hair into a ponytail with shaky hands, wiping away the tears of anxiety that filled her eyes before they managed to escape and roll down her puffy face.

She was scared, terrified of everything around her. She didn't want to leave again; she didn't want to keep running away from all of the things that got thrown at her in life. They chased her mercilessly, never giving her a break. To make things even worse for herself, she had walked in on something that was none of her business and had been caught.

Angela knew it was only a matter of time before whoever those men were, came and found her. God knows what they would do to her, but for some strange reason- she thought it might be better than staying in this life on the run. She was desperate and gave little value to her life anymore. She felt like she was better off dead than living like this- the only reason she had not tried to run yet.

She thought about calling the police, but she knew it would only make things worse. She hoped Luigi was alright. Even though he wasn't the nicest person she'd ever come across, he was harmless and was the only one out of what felt like hundreds of people to actually give her a job in her time of need.

After she had put on her shoes and walked down her hallway to the living room to grab her purse, she stopped herself and held a breath. Her anxiety was kicking in again, tumbling down on her and weighing her down. She tugged at her hair frustratedly and paced around the bare coffee table in the middle of the room, the unvarnished floorboards creaking loudly as she did so.

This wasn't the first time this series of events had happened. For the past few days that's all she seemed to be doing: Getting up from a restless night of tossing and turning, showering, getting ready to go out into civilization again and then pacing around her apartment for hours before going back to bed and repeating the process. The viscous cycle continued. She hadn't eaten a proper meal in about a week and ate very little after that day at the diner. She cursed herself for being so nosey and foolish.

The rent on the apartment was up in three days and she needed to get out fast, she knew staying any longer was a bad idea but where was she to go? She had no friends or family to contact. Angela had been looking around for places to stay around Canada that were not too far away from there but had failed to find anywhere in her small and scary price range. She was broke, she was almost homeless and she was alone. She knew this was coming, it did every two months or so and then she would be forced to move on.

Looking at the clock ticking away, Angela knew today was the day: the day she would have to go outside for even just a couple of minutes. She put on her hoodie and grabbed the keys to her car, dropping them a few times on the way down the stairs of her apartment block from her quivering hands. It was a Wednesday, and so she decided it might help to go to the soup kitchen like she usually did. She thought it may free her mind for even a few minutes that day. Because it was getting closer to the holidays, the kitchen was always busy.

Angela liked how she could keep a low profile and help at the same time. Sure, she knew she wasn't a saint but even doing something small like what she was doing made a difference, however tiny it may be. She would nod and smile at the other volunteers but no one asked too many questions and most of the conversations were steered towards doing good and whether the potatoes were ready for the broth yet. The occasional kind-of familiar face would ask her about her life outside of serving soup but she would quickly brush it off.She was right about the kitchen, it made her mind wander off for a while along with her anxiety and her frightening memories. But when she left the smothering-but-nice warmth of the soup kitchen and went into the bitter coldness of her car, everything creeped back into her mind, toying with her as she drove the short distance back to her apartment.

She looked over her shoulder as she slammed her car door shut and practically ran up the three flights of stairs before ramming the key into her door and opening it. She hurriedly closed the scratched, off-white door and locked it, putting the latch on too before letting out a sigh of relief. She felt so exhausted from running the short distance to her door but knew it was most likely because of her lack of eating. Maybe she should try to eat something again. Eating wasn't the problem though, she thought to herself, it was keeping it down that was hard.

After pouring herself a small bowl of cereal and adding milk she walked out of the kitchen and into her living room again. It was now dark and none of the lights were on. Angela shivered at the coldness of her empty apartment and thought about investing in a heater the next time she ever got a pay check as she flicked the light switch on. As soon as she did so, her eyes widened, her mouth made an O shape and she dropped her bowl to the floor when she discovered her apartment wasn't as empty as it seemed. The bowl smashed loudly at her feet, the metal spoon clinking on the broken pieces along with it. She flinched at the noise and covered her ears, she hated loud noises, they made her even more nervous.

A pair of dark eyes were fixed on her. Her gaze moved from his eyes to his left cheek where the scar was more visible than in the diner the other day. The man was in a well-fitted suit just like the last time she had saw him, he sat comfortably on her two-seater couch and he had his hands spread out over the top of the chair. His leg was crossed over the other and his haunting smile sent a shiver up her spine. His teeth were white and straight and they were perfect, his olive skin was clear and his dark black hair was in a small quiff. But the one thing that had continued to catch her eye was his eyes: they could remind you of thick melted chocolate but he made them appear like frozen dark coffee. He could probably even be handsome if he didn't look so scary and intimidating.

No words were past around for a minute or two while they stared at each other, well she stared, and he tormented her with his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice cracked out and wavered.

"Hmm, I wonder?" He said, monotonously.

"I- Please, just leave me alone." She tried her best not to shake but it was no use, he was scary and dangerous, she just knew it and now he was in her apartment with only her, alone.

"Where have you been Angela? I have been waiting." He said, intimidatingly as he stood up.

"I was j-j-just out, w-what do you want? H-how do you know my n-n-name?" she stuttered every time he took a step closer to her, the particles of the broken bowl crunched under his shoes.

"I know a lot about you Angela, you're a smart girl for not going to the cops you know?" his New York accent was thick and deep.

"But I can't put trust in someone I barely know, just because you haven't squealed on what you saw just yet, can I Angela?" he was unbearably close to her now, she was backed up into a corner and she had nowhere to go. She tried not to show how scared she was on her face, but even if she did that it would be clear from everything else that she was truly terrified of this man and what he was going to do.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise. I don't want any trouble." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes now at his frightening expression. He threw a glance at the boxes near the door, they were full of her belongings and they had been sitting there ever since she moved into this place.

She didn't feel the need to unpack, she never did. Angela always wanted to be ready to just up and leave in case of an emergency, or him finding her and her running away again.

"Planning on squealing and then running away eh?" his voice was near a low growl now, he felt slightly weird for his need to step even closer to her but did so anyway.

"No, no I wasn't." she shook her head quickly and closed her eyes when she seen his hand move from by his side.

"P-please, don't hurt me. I-I'll do anything please just leave me alone." He had moved so close that if he wasn't so tall and she so short, their noses would be touching but she had to look up at him now. She heard the click of a gun and shook her head, telling herself it would be okay and trying to figure out what to do next. She was muttering please under her breath and then opened her eyes.

Maybe she could run? Angela stopped herself from jumping at the closeness of the gun being pointed at her. She had no other plan other than to just run but the door had three locks and a latch on, it would take a while to open and she had no time. She looked at the window behind him and thought no, there was no way she could jump from three stories. She decided running to her bedroom and locking the door would be better, she could climb out of her window and into the apartment next door because she would have more time.

Angela looked at this man once more, he seemed to be taking a long time to shoot. Little did she know he was trying so badly to fire but he couldn't bring himself to do it, what the hell was wrong with him? He tried looking away from her so her big doe eyes wouldn't be looking at her. She took this opportunity to duck and crawl under his tall frame and ran to her bedroom before slamming the door and locking it.The gritty and mold covered window of her apartment was jammed, like it usually would be, something Angela had forgotten.

Oh no, she thought in panic. Despite feeling weak and almost unable to even stand up she shoved the window to try and open it. The man was outside now, rapping on the down furiously and shouting through it. She almost had the window open when the door was kicked down off of its hinges, getting her deposit back on the apartment was not one of the things on her mind at this time though, it was what this man, practically gaping at her.

The loud noise made her jump to the floor and cover her eyes, closing her eyes tightly shut for a moment and then opening them to find him standing over her. She had scrunched her body up into a jittering ball on the ground, giving up but still so afraid of what was going to happen to her, would he kill her? She didn't want to die yet, she was too young.

His chest was rising and falling as he caught his breath, which was the only thing in the small bedroom to be heard .He kept looking at her, the anger he had had now left him and he wondered what he was about to do to her? Why does it matter, he thought, you don't know her, just do it. But he couldn't when she was right here in front of him, her bright grey eyes looking up at him pleadingly, and her small frame shaking profusely. She had hugged her knees and didn't bother to wipe away the tears that had started a minute ago.

What the f**k was I doing here? He needed to leave, maybe come back in a few days after he figured out what the options were because there was no way he could kill her. She noticed he had calmed a bit and his eyes thawed slightly but avoided his scrutinizing gaze and looked at the floor.

And then she heard his footsteps, the noise of his expensive shoes walking on the squeaky floorboards as he left. When she looked up at his broad shoulders, his muscly frame as it exited through the door, he had to duck slightly under the frame to get out.She flinched again as she heard to door to her apartment slamming and broke down into tears.

What the hell had just happened?