What about my friends? Would I have to say goodbye or see you later to the friends I had for most of my life? My parents were gone; I had no siblings, no real ties to Seaport other than the fact that this was where I called “home.” It was my safe haven in a world of uncertainty.
Ryan’s presence in my life had generated a whole new list of questions for me to ponder. I wanted a life with a partner in it and Ryan was appearing to be as close to perfect for me as one man could ever be. He was a guy’s guy, rugged and manly, but he was also loving and tender. He wasn’t selfish like Tim, and he wasn’t opposed to love, like Dean. And most importantly, one lady seemed to be more than enough.
I loved the way he took charge of situations too. The way he spoke to the police this evening - in some bizarre way it actually turned me on to see him take the lead. He wasn’t the type to take a back seat to anyone. He was strong and could handle himself, and he had demonstrated on more than one occasion that he wanted to take care of me. His actions were natural - as instinctual as breathing.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided that whatever path life would take me on it would be worth it, as long as Ryan was by my side.
I nestled under my covers; a smile crossed my lips when Ryan’s voice uttering the words “I’m falling in love with you” echoed in my mind. I let sleep take me under with that being my last thought.
I just about leapt out of my skin when my alarm system went off. A surge of adrenaline coursed into my veins from the shrill of the alarms. I ran to my bedroom door and locked it. I looked at the clock; it was almost five. Not more than thirty seconds passed before the alarm company called my cell phone.
“Hello, this is Taryn Mitchell,” I breathed into the phone.
“Ms. Mitchell, this is Jeff from Shield Security, we have indications of a breach in your building. Are you in the building?”
“Yes,” I stammered.
“Are you secured?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ve locked myself in my bedroom.” My heart was pounding; the alarms were blaring.
“Sensors are indicating a window on your first floor. We have alerted local authorities. The police have been dispatched; their ETA is four minutes. I will stay on the line with you until authorities arrive. Are you in need of medical assistance?”
“No. I’m fine. Scared, but fine.” I was trembling as I put some clothing on.
“Ms. Mitchell, the police have arrived. They are unable to get inside.”
I unlocked my door and crept out into the hallway. I could hear the police banging on the front door.
“I’m going downstairs to let them in,” I informed him.
As soon as I opened the front door the police quickly escorted me out of my building so they could do a sweep for an intruder. I was shaking like a leaf when they sat me inside a patrol car.
Another patrol car came speeding down Fourth Street, red and blue lights blazing. I believe every cop on duty in Seaport was there. After what seemed like an eternity, an officer came to the car. I recognized that he was the same officer who came into my pub when Ryan and our guests were here.
“Miss, my name is Officer Carlton,” he introduced himself.
“Yes, officer. You were here earlier.”
“Yes ma’am. We’ve searched your facility for intruders. No one is inside. It appears that a large rock has been thrown through your front window.
There are no other signs of forced entry.”
I just nodded. I was freezing and scared shitless.
“Is there someone you can contact to help you? You will need to board up your window. We are going to take pictures of the scene first and I’ll need to take a statement from you.”
I still had my cell phone in my hand.
“Pete?” my voice cracked.
Pete and Tammy arrived about thirty minutes after I called.
“Tammy!” Relief washed over me as I hugged her.
“Taryn, are you okay? What happened?” she asked.
I repeated my story again. Shattered glass was all over the table and booth and the impact took down one of my neon bar signs.
“In all the years we’ve had this pub, this is the first time we’ve ever had any vandalism. I don’t understand.” I shook my head. I tried to imagine why someone would hurl a rock through my window. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was some obsessed fan that did it.
Tammy and I held the sheets of plywood in place while Pete boarded up the window. The sun was starting to rise; in another hour or so I’d be able to call a contractor to come fix the glass. I also needed to get the insurance company involved. All this hassle for what? I hoped that whoever threw the rock got whatever was bugging them out of their system.