“Hello,” he said.

I couldn’t move. He was standing a few feet away from me.

“No words for your old boyfriend?” he gave me a mocking smile.

It took me another few seconds, but I found my voice again. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I always told you I’d come after you if you left me.”

“Just leave me alone,” I said, trying to sound adamant, but my voice wavered.

“Aw, you don’t mean that,” he took another step towards me.

I took a step back. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?” he had that smile on his face again. I shivered.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“What’s mine.”

“I don’t belong to you.”

Peter’s eyes darkened. I knew the signs for his temper. “Well, you know what that means then, don’t you?”

Before I could move, he’d come forward and grabbed my arm. He started walking, his firm grip. The more I struggled, the tighter his grip got. There was no avoiding his brute strength. He was a big guy, over six feet with broad shoulders and dark hair. The same features that had attracted me to him to begin with were the ones that frightened me now.

“Let go,” I said.

“Quiet,” he said. “Don’t even think about screaming.” He opened the front of his jacket. I could see the handle of a knife.

A new wave of panic hit me. He’d never carried weapons before. Usually, he was the weapon.

I looked around, wondering how I could feel so alone when surrounded by so many people. Wondering why no one noticed that something was wrong. Peter was heading towards a side exit of the mall. If I was going to make an escape, it needed to be soon.

Peter was holding the arm I was carrying my purse on. I tried to nonchalantly unzip it and dig out what I needed. Luckily, the mall was crowded and loud. He didn’t seem to notice.

I grabbed the pepper spray and then put my hand behind my back, getting ready to use it. Turning, I aimed it at him.

Peter saw me raise my hand and reacted quickly. Defensively, he raised both arms to shield his eyes and held his breathe, so the spray didn’t affect him. But, my own arm now free, I sprinted away, back towards the food court, ignoring the strange glances I was getting from strangers.

Now they notice me, I thought in dismay.

The food court was packed with people. I had to slow down to zig zag through the tables and chairs and people. For the first time, I glanced back over my shoulder.

Two hands grabbed me and I gasped, my breathing already coming out in short pants.

“Michelle? What’s wrong?”

AJ was there. He might as well have been wearing shining armor. I had never been so happy to see him.

But then I remembered Peter, and the knife he was concealing.

I wouldn’t let him near AJ.

“Nothing, I have to go,” I said, trying to move past him.

“Michelle,” AJ said again, worried. “What’s going on? Who are you running from?”

I turned around again. Peter was standing at the edge of the food court, his face dark. He glanced from AJ to me several times. But other people were still glancing at me, wondering why I’d been running. There was too much attention for him to intimidate me without anyone noticing.

With a final glance, he had disappeared in the crowd again.

“Who the hell was that?” AJ demanded.

“You saw him?” I asked.

“Yes, now…” he glanced at me and stopped, worry his only expression once again.

My face must’ve been white. Whatever he saw, the inquiry stopped.

“Come on. We’re leaving,” AJ said. It wasn’t a question, but I was too relieved to be getting out of here to complain about being told what to do. Actually, I was grateful I didn’t have to think about anything at the moment. I wanted him to take care of it, to take care of me. He put his arm around me, firmly and protectively, and guided me out of the mall, glancing around often.

Once in his car, we sped off. I didn’t say anything during the ride. I didn’t even ask where we were going. My mind had shut off from the emotional overload.

It wasn’t until AJ opened the door and was guiding me out that I noticed we were at his house. He led me inside, where I absent-mindedly sat down on his couch.

“Who was that? Why was he after you?” AJ knelt down in front of me, staring in my eyes.

“That was Peter,” I said lamely, my heartbeat finally back to normal. My voice finally steady again.

“Uh-huh…?” he urged.

I shook my head, remembering the way Peter had glared at him. This wasn’t AJ’s fight. He could get hurt. “Listen, it’s nothing you need to worry about. I’ll deal with it.”

“I’ll decide what’s my business to worry about,” AJ snapped.

I jumped, still a little edgy, at the sudden change in his voice.

He sighed. “I’m sorry. Michelle, you scared me half to death. Can you blame me for being a little temperamental?”

“I don’t even know why you care,” I shrugged, slowly remembering that I was mad at him.

“Of course I care,” AJ looked taken aback.

I realized I didn’t have the fight in me right now. I didn’t know if he meant it, but I wanted to believe it. I was left with my original objection. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, AJ. It’s better if you just let it go and stay away from me.”

“Well that’s not going to happen,” AJ said firmly. “So either you fill me in, or the next time I run into him, I’m forced to kick his ass without knowing the reason why.”

I let out a laugh. The moment wasn’t at all humorous, but I couldn’t help it. It released some of the pressure. “He was my boyfriend. Well, fiancé actually.”

AJ sat down on the couch next to me, listening intently.

“Long story short, he’s… not a good person, and I left him.”

AJ thought for a moment. “He’s the real reason you moved to Florida, isn’t he?”

I nodded and shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

His eyes widened, staring at my arm. I followed his gaze, and noticed the black and blue traces Peter had left on me. AJ started to look angry.

“Has he hurt you before?”

I didn’t see the point in lying. “Yes.”

“How long were you with him?”

I sighed. “Over two years.”

“What?” AJ’s voice raised in shock. “And how long was he pulling crap like this?” he motioned to my arm.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “A year.”

“And you stayed that long?”

“It started out small… And he’d apology immediately afterwards. Then he’d make it seem like I deserved it in some way…” I trailed off. I didn’t know how to explain it. How could anyone who’d never been through it understand? It sounded stupid now. But at the time, I hadn’t been strong enough to leave. I’d loved him and, despite the bruises, for awhile, I thought he’d loved me, too.

AJ sighed, taking a deep breath and obviously trying to hold back all the things he wanted to say. He left the room for a moment. When he returned, he had an ice pack in his hand. He held it gently against my arm. He muttered a few choice words for Peter under his breath as he did so.

“What does he want now?”

“Me,” I shuddered.

“Well he’s not going to get you. He has to know you’re never coming back to him. We aren’t going to let that happen.”

I managed a smile at his sentiments. I knew Peter wouldn’t be easily stopped though. He’d been searching for me this long, hadn’t he? “I think he was waiting for me to be someplace no one would notice him. Like at work or coming in and out of my apartment building, people know me and would’ve asked who he was. Today, I was out in public, but surrounded by strangers.” I shuddered. AJ voiced the reason I’d just thought of.

“So he’s been watching and waiting for the right moment?”

I nodded.

“Well, he’s not going to get to you,” AJ said again, fervently. “He’ll get that through his head eventually.”

“It’s not that easy, AJ.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think he really thought I was ever going to go back to him.”

AJ waited for an answer, his eyebrows raised. I remembered the first time Peter had ever said it. We’d only been dating maybe six months. Everything seemed to be going fine. Sure, there were early signals that he wasn’t the person I thought; but I was too in love to notice. I can’t live without you, he’d said to me one day. We’d just had dinner at a nice restaurant. And you can’t live without me.

It had seemed like a promise at the time.

It had been awhile before I’d seen the statement for its real meaning: a threat.

“I think he wants to kill me.”