original

An Officer and a Fireman

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Chapter 1: Chapter 1

“Was that him again?” my best friend Lola asked when I placed my phone on the café table with a huff. It had been ringing and buzzing practically non-stop for a week now.

“Do you even need to ask?” I rolled my eyes at her and pierced a slice of melon with my fork to guide it into my mouth.

“Didn’t you change your number?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she sipped her latte

“Yeah.”

“Then how the hell did he get a hold of your new one?”

I didn’t even like to think of the answer for that. “He’s got high contacts.” I shrugged.

“Are you going to get that restraining order?”

I gazed at her for a few moments, wondering what it would be like to walk in her shoes instead. With movie star good looks, natural platinum blonde hair, and cheek bones to die for there was little my best friend couldn’t achieve. Not to mention the fact she had a job as a fashion journalist where she barely had to step foot in the office because she was having an affair with her boss.

What I wouldn’t give for a day in her shoes.

“He’s got money in half the pockets of the London police,” I sighed. “Nobody would take me seriously.”

“So what are you going to do?” Lola asked.

“Dye my hair, change my name, and move to Canada,” I joked though the laughter caught in my throat. I was only half joking.

Running away had become more and more of an enticing prospect over the last week, but I didn’t have the finances.

“Are you sure you ended things properly? Left him with no questions?”

We’d had this conversation what felt like one hundred times before.

“I packed up everything I’d left in his apartment and told him that we were over. I even told him not to contact me because I wouldn’t answer.” That was the same answer I gave her every time.

“And he’s still contacting you?” Lola huffed out a long sigh, “He’s got it bad.”

“I don’t see why.” I shrugged and continued to play with the fruit salad in front of me, no longer hungry because I was so nauseous with anxiety. “He was only ever around when he wanted sex.”

“Well, it must have been some hella good sex.” Lola chuckled and I began to blush.

“He’s practically a millionaire. There’s a list of girls who’d sleep with him as long as my arm.”

“He doesn’t want just any girl,” Lola pointed out. “He wants you.”

I didn’t need her to tell me that. The bouquet of red roses I’d found on the steps of my front porch this morning said everything I needed to know.

“I’m sure he’ll give up eventually.”

Even as I said the words, I wasn’t so sure. I’d been through breakups before but none like this. Usually I’d get a few calls for a couple of days but then things would go silent.

So far this week I’d been showered with calls, texts, flowers, and even chocolates which had gone straight in the bin without even crossing my threshold.

“He’s clearly mad about you,” Lola pointed out. “Are you sure you aren’t making a mistake?”

I definitely wasn’t. Barely being around was one thing but getting jealous whenever I spoke to other men was quite another.

I shivered as I remembered the way he’d gripped my arm so tightly at the store checkout that he’d left bruises and all because I’d smiled at the shop assistant for offering to bag our groceries.

“He’s mad all right, but not about me.” I shook my head. “He’s just a control freak who doesn’t like not getting his own way.”

“I can think of someone else a little like that.” Lola wrinkled her nose playfully at me.

“I am not a control freak,” I snapped back at her and slapped my hand on the table. “I have to pee.”

With that I pushed myself up from the table and headed into the café. We’d been outside on the patio basking in the sun for almost an hour.

The bell above my head jingled as I entered but that wasn’t what gave me the worst fright.

I had taken no more than three steps when I suddenly came up against what felt like a brick wall.

“Oh my God!” I gasped as I was flung backwards.

The hand that reached out to grip my elbow was the only thing that stopped me from toppling onto my ass.

Disoriented, I blinked up to find myself face to face with a man dressed all in blue save for the black bulletproof vest which housed a radio on the left breast.

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