The event had shaken her, she could admit it. But not as much as it once would have. Once she wouldn’t have left her house for weeks after feeling like someone was watching her.
Now she could admit that she sometimes let her imagination get the better of her. That the ugly blacks she thought she saw in the night sometimes were just the dark, not malicious black colors surrounding someone with evil intents.
So… bravery.
Or maybe not bravery but just not allowing paranoia to rule her life.
Allowing herself to feel excitement and anticipation again. Who was she kidding? Reveling in the excitement and anticipation that being around Brett Wagner had caused.
Paige smiled as she stepped back from the living room windows, a cup of coffee warming her hands. It was a gorgeous spring day here in Portland. Sunny. They didn’t get many of those.
She wanted to go out. By herself. With no guards or entourage.
Not a life-changing thought for most people. But totally new and unexpected for Paige.
She wanted to walk in downtown Portland by the Willamette River. Go to the Saturday Market — full of quilts and ceramics and jewelry and soaps. The people who sold there were artists like Paige, many quirky and strange, but always interesting. Paige had sold her paintings there years ago before they had become collectors’ pieces.
Paige had let her attacker steal one of her favorite activities: walking around the market by herself just enjoying the unorthodox vibe of it all.
Not anymore.
She picked up the phone on her desk that automatically connected her with the guard office.
“Everything okay, Miss Jeffries?” She was glad it was Jacob, one of her two head security guards. He’d been with her longest. Understood her situation best. Never judged her.
“Jacob, I need your honest opinion.”
“About a painting?”
Paige was pretty sure she had never asked Jacob, or any of the other guards, for his opinion about much of anything outside her work. She didn’t tend to be chatty even with the guards that were around all the time.
“No, about my safety.”
“Are you worried about something, Miss Jeffries?” She now obviously had his undivided attention.
“You and the team have been with me for two years. Since the incident. But nothing has really taken place since then. Do you feel my life is in jeopardy?”
“Hopefully, with me and the other men around, your life will never be in jeopardy. Are you thinking about paring down your security?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“You’re a celebrity. It will probably be good for you to have security for the foreseeable future, regardless of whether there are any direct threats or not.”
“Yeah, I agree. Here’s the thing: I’d like to go into town for the Saturday Market this morning.”
“I’d be glad to take you there. It’s no problem at all.”
“Actually, I think I’d like to venture out a little by myself.”
There was a long pause. “You pay me, pay all of us to stay with you. Why don’t I just come with you?”
“Because I want to do it myself, Jacob. I want to stop being holed up in fear all the time.”
Another pause. This one with a sigh at the end. “Miss Jeffries—”
“Just let me ask you one question. In your professional opinion, do you think I’m in any danger? Just to go downtown for a few hours?”
“Well, like I was saying earlier, you’re a well-known artist—”
“I’m not talking about a fan who might possibly recognize me and want to post my picture with them on Instagram. I’m talking about being in danger. From the man who attacked me.” Paige could feel herself getting agitated, just saying the words. “Do you think he will try again?”
“My professional opinion? No, I don’t think you are in danger from that person. Based on what happened in your attack and because you’ve never heard anything from him since, no stalking incidents or weird gifts, I think you were randomly selected by him two years ago and aren’t in any danger from him now.”
Paige knew that should make her feel better, but now she wondered if this was a good idea at all.
“You know what? Let’s forget it. I’ll just stay here.”
“Paige.” It was the first time she ever remembered the security guard calling her by her first name. “You should go. We’ll compromise. I’ll drive you down there and drop you and will be nearby. You can walk around as long as you want and then come home.”
Paige gripped the phone tighter. Could she do this?
Bravery.
“You’re right. He’s taken enough. Damn it, he’s not allowed to have one single more of my sunny days to fill with shadows. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
An hour later, walking through the familiar grounds of the market, Paige knew she had made the right decision. Jacob had dropped her off, and although she had felt a bit like a teenager being dropped off at the mall by her dad, she was glad she was doing this.
Colors, noises, smells —some familiar, some not— surrounded her. And even though they weren’t all entirely pleasant, they were fabulous, because they were her choice.
It was a brisk, sunny spring day. Paige walked from vendor to vendor, keeping her face low in her scarf, partially for warmth, partially so she wouldn’t be recognized. Although the way people carried on around her, in constant movement and bustle, Paige didn’t think anyone was really looking at anyone else, and even if they did get a good look at her she wondered if they would be able to place her.
Any general unrest she felt melted away as she walked and shopped and even chatted. The colors surrounding the artists here were bright and loud and jarring, for the most part. Difficult to look at sometimes, but obviously involving no malice.
After a couple of hours of wandering, as much as she enjoyed it, Paige was ready to get away from the cacophony of colors surrounding her. But she wasn’t ready to call Jacob to go home just yet. She decided to walk a little along the river. More nature, less people. Maybe she’d get a sandwich from one of the street vendors. Old town had them everywhere.
A grilled cheese from the Little T American Baker truck. She could almost taste it —had been one of her favorites years ago and was just up the block. The sandwich would be the perfect end to her outing.
The food trucks were through a little alley formed by a pedestrian pathway under the main road. People used it all the time to save themselves from having to go the long way around the busy street, but as Paige made her way towards it from the park, she stopped at the entrance.
There was no one in the alley that she could see in the dim light, but she could swear she felt eyes on her again. Like last night at the show.
Like her attack two years ago.
Her heart began to hammer against her ribs, her breathing hitched. She reached in her purse to pull out the phone to call Jacob. She didn’t want the sandwich anymore.
The phone flew out of her hands and fell to the ground as strong arms came around her from behind.
“Hey, baby, there you are!”
The voice boomed in her ear. Paige jerked back, but the arms didn’t release her. She was trapped.
Panic swamped her and Paige couldn’t seem to force any of her muscles to move for a long moment. But when the arms tightened around her she exploded into movement. She flung her head back and could feel her skull hit her captor’s face. She twisted and began flailing her legs.
But he still didn’t let go.
From somewhere to her side Paige could hear laughter, but her panicked brain couldn’t process who it was or why anything was funny. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand came up, covering her mouth over her scarf, which was now over most of her face.
“Damn it, Maggie, what the hell’s wrong with you? I think you broke my nose!” The voice attached to the arms that held her said. Paige could barely register the words.
Maggie?
Another set of arms wrapped around her legs and stopped her flailing.
“Maggie, c’mon. Chill.” This was the voice from her legs. “Eric, let her go, man. She’s really freaking out.”
Using every ounce of willpower she could find, Paige forced herself to stop struggling. The people holding her weren’t hurting her; weren’t taking her anywhere. The arms around her torso let go and Paige fell to the ground, crying out as her elbow cracked against the ground.
She pulled her scarf down from where it had covered most of her face as she scurried backward on the ground ready to run. She stared out at the three men now leaning over her.
“Oh crap. That’s not Maggie,” one of them murmured.
Not three men. Three oversized teenagers. Yellows and reds zig-zagging around them in jarring patterns. Hormones obviously ruled their every thought and action. But there wasn’t any blackness. None of them intended her harm.
One had some questionable grays mixed in with his colors, but that could mean a number of things —from cheating on his girlfriend to plans to stuff some kid in a locker at school— and have nothing to do with Paige.
“Oh my gosh, ma’am, we’re really sorry.” This was the one who had grabbed her from behind and was bleeding from his nose. “We thought you were our friend Maggie.”
The bleeding guy smacked the one with gray in his colors. “Dude, you told us that was Maggie.”