The little black book

Shit. I did it again. Blacking out is becoming a dangerous habit I need to break. My head ached and my body felt like lead, but I rolled to my side anyway and watched the floor tilt through one barely-open, crusty eye. Shouldn’t have done that. My stomach lurched and I thought of bread and water to try and convince it to stay calm and digest on. It subsided and I convinced myself to open the other eye. Where the fuck am I? Obviously a hotel room, by some miracle. It wasn’t fancy, standard hotel drapes and scratchy, dull carpet; white walls and a random abstract painting to ‘bring the room together.’ Bullshit. Were my standards really this low? The room mocked me and mirrored my choice in men. I needed to get out before the sleeping stranger next to me woke up. The TV was on low volume and the weatherman called for another chilly Spring day. I suppose it will help clear my mind on the walk home though. I glanced at the alarm clock by the boring brown lamp, it read 9:37.

I was back in my apartment by 10:15 and feeling rather accomplished for sneaking out of the room unnoticed. I started taking my coat off, but reached inside my pocket to feel the cool, smooth leather of the notebook I grabbed off the counter in the room. I couldn’t resist. I had seen it laying there just before I left and peeked at the scribbls inside. I love seeing what thoughts live inside someone else’s head. It looked like a journal from the few short entries I skimmed, so I took it with me to take a deeper dive. Was it wrong? Maybe. But who brings a journal when they’re out drinking with friends? He basically asked me to take it by leaving it out in the open like that. So I did. He doesn't have my number, or even my real name for that matter. He said he was just passing through after wrapping up some business, so he should be gone by tomorrow. He'll never even miss it.

Although I was anxious to really get into that journal I desperately needed food, and a long nap. I got changed into my comfiest sweats, and as I snacked on some stale chips and watched television, my mind wandered back to the previous night. It was great, and he was great. Which is why it was so easy to leave this morning. The ones that always seem too good to be true usually are. Those eyes though... My thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of a text from one of my friends. Jewel (no she's not a stripper) and I had become fast friends at work and have been attached at the hip for the last couple years. Though I haven't known her long, she was quickly becoming one of those friends you know you'll never not be friends with, no matter the length of time you go without talking to one another. Our conversation started out in classic Jewel fashion:

"Hey girl, how'd your night go?? I saw you leave with tall, dark, and dangerously handsome *wink*wink* I see you made it home finally so I'll let your lack of communication slide... this time."

I rolled my eyes and ignored her teasing, and responded: "How did you know I made it home?"

"Uh I have your location. I shared yours with me and mine with you when you were over at my house like months ago... thought you knew *shrug emoji"

As much as I wanted to be annoyed that she was technically spying on me, I couldn't. It was thoughtful of her to keep an eye out for me. I felt like I finally had the older sister I always wanted. My phone buzzed again, a double text- she must be anxious to know more.

"You cleverly avoided my more important question though... HOW WAS YOUR NIGHT B*TCH?? You deserve to tell me that much after ditching me and leaving me with Mr. Handsome's friend, Mr. Average. Let's go get brunch and gossip!"

We decided to meet at our regular "morning after a night out" restaurant to get some fresh air and recount the night's antics. It was only a few blocks from both our places, and had the absolute best french toast and coffee.

I threw on a chunky sweater over my joggers, a beanie, and my favorite white Addidas and headed out the door. I rounded the corner, looking to our regular table on the patio for Jewel (she always beats me there because I like to enjoy my walks and take in the sights and smells while she walks as if she's delivering urgent news to the President). I stopped my casual stroll abruptly when I saw the back of a stranger's head sitting in Jewel's regular seat. A familiar stranger. A tall, dark, and dangerously handsome stranger.

I quickly did a double take around the area, but no Jewel in sight. My heartrate increased, and I had to remind myself I shouldn't have anything to be afraid of. It could be a coincidence that he was there. He wasn't staying that far away, I had walked home so he could have easily walked here to meet his buddy from last night. I backpedaled around the corner I had just turned from and braced myself against the wall. I decided to text Jewel, and then remembered I could check her location. I logged in and freaked out internally when I saw it said she was just around the corner, at the restaurant. That made no sense! What do I do? I wanted to call her, but my instincts were dying to know if this was all just a silly mistake or if it was something more serious. I pulled up our texts and typed a quick question:

"I'm almost there, do you have our table??"

Immediately the three little dots started bouncing on the screen, I poked my head around the corner to see the familiar stranger's head bent over the table. It looked like he was texting. My phone vibrated and startled me, I pulled my head back around the corner to my hiding place and looked down at the message from Jewel:

"I'm outside, hurry up!!"

I peered around the corner again and could see the familiar stranger had looked up and seemed to be looking for someone. But still no Jewel. Something about this wasn't right. I couldn't make sense of it all yet, but I pulled out my phone and decided to figure this out once and for all. I called Jewel and kept my eye on the familiar stranger. He looked down, seemed to sigh, and then cracked his neck and leaned back in his chair. I looked down at my phone, my call had just been declined. The stranger leaned forward intensely and I kept watching. He stayed like that for a few moments then abruptly turned around and looked me dead in the eyes.

I ducked back around the corner as fast as I could. I'd been busted. What do I do now?? Do I run? Do I call 911? That's absurd, nothing had happened... yet. My heart was pounding in my ears, and before I could decide what to do, the smell of smoke enveloped me and a deep, gravely, familiar voice asked, "You look like you need this more than me." I looked up at the "stranger" offering me a cigarette and was met with an immediate sense of dread and panic. I could only shake my head side to side, too afraid my voice would shake and give away my lack of courage. He shrugged and brought the cig to the same lips I'd been attached to a short lifetime ago it seemed. I couldn't even remember his damn name. I was freaking out on the inside, what did he want? I crossed my arms and shifted away slightly. He was leaning against the other side of the corner of the building I was hiding behind, just smoking- he was intimidating but he didn't seem threatening. We were in a public place so maybe he didn't want me to freak out and start screaming. I needed some answers and the fact he was just standing there started to piss me off.

I knew he had Jewel's phone, but how did he get it? I finally found my voice and asked, "What are you doing here? I know you have Jewel's phone. How did you get that? What did you do to her? I SWEAR I'll start screaming if you try to kidnap me or lie-" He cut me off with a hefty puff of smoke to the face. I started coughing and he smirked. "What the f*ck! I'm being serious! I have pepper spray," I said in a slightly louder tone. He shrugged and offered me the cig again with raised eyebrows and said, "I'll explain on the way."

I staggered a step back in response and wondered where. He could read the question on my face, put out his cigarette, and held his hands up in innocence. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just want the book. You can keep the money," he said.

"What money?" I asked immediately. There hadn't been any cash exchange last night, that I could remember. Ugh, I hoped there wasn't. And there wasn't any money in that black notebook... I stared at him, confused, refusing to say any more until he revealed any kind of detail about what was happening right now.

He shifted and crossed his arms and glared at me, "Don't lie. I know you took the notebook, and that thing had all the money to my name in it." He took a small step forward and I matched it, stepping back closer to the street. He rolled his eyes. I examined his body language; it seemed like he was being authentic, but I could tell he was on his toes and ready to react if I moved too quickly. I quickly calculated my odds of escaping. The streets were busy with Saturday morning bustle so I couldn't run across the street unless I timed it exactly right, and if I started running down the sidewalk he would definitely catch me. He had a tall, athletic build that you could tell had been used for something like football or track.

He seemed to read my mind. "Don't do it," he cautioned. I cut my eyes to the side to see what kind of reaction I'd get and juked to the left hard and then took off sprinting to the right. I played years of basketball and was pretty fast. But apparently not fast enough. While the juke threw him off for a moment, he quickly caught up to me by the end of the block and kept my pace, running along side me. I realized then that we looked like a couple taking an intense run. I decided then that he might not be a dangerous threat and slowed my pace to a walk. I mean, I had just tried to run away and he didn't try to stop me. We walked in silence for two more blocks, me fuming and wracking my brain trying to remember the night before, him sauntering along beside me with his hands in his pockets and a cocky smirk.

How could he be smirking when he had just lost all his money? Why wasn't he as out of breath as I was when he was the one who smoked? So frustrating. And off-topic. I had to focus.

I had a rough plan. "We're going to sit down and you're going to tell me what's going on here-," but before I could finish my speech, a van screeched around the corner as we started crossing the street to the park, came to a halt and two men in masks shoved Mr. Handsome into the van. I was frozen in shock. He was able to get a glance at me and yell, "Henry Hale!" before they got a hood over his head and sped off.

I looked around, and it was like that moment in time didn't exist. No one else saw, and hardly anyone was around to even witness this absurd turn of events.

I screamed internally as questions raced through my mind, and could feel tears stinging in my eyes from the stress of the whole morning.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!