A Song in Ebony Ch. 04

Along with getting fired, the kerfuffle with his semi-autonomous vehicle license had been the first omen of his new problem. It had mysteriously 'expired' three years before it was supposed to, forcing him to go in and renew it. And then his license had come out with that ridiculous last name plastered on its front. He was still trying to get that straightened out. Then somehow his bank accounts had been put under his 'new' last name, making withdrawals a nightmare. Most of his savings were still unavailable. And now the temp agency he was trying to use was insisting on the name change as well.

He knew who was behind it, of course. Or rather what was behind it. The politicians had decided to play along with that extra-dimensional menace, and he'd been the pawn to get sacrificed. He was being messed with, and all because of a little...misunderstanding. He'd had to examine that woman. After all, he'd been ordered to. And he'd been perfectly professional the whole time. Well, most of the time. Having the Braydon sister helpless and under his control had really got his motor running. But he'd never actually done anything to her...not really. Maybe he'd gotten a little carried away that last time, and had probed his fingers a little deeper than necessary. But just a little.

Gilbert's phone chimed with an incoming text. He looked and his heart sank further. It was another one from an unlisted number. For the last few days, he'd been getting anonymous taunting texts. Even though he'd set his account up to block them, they still kept coming through.

Give up yet?

"Fuck you," he muttered.

Not even in your dreams, dipshit.

He dropped the phone like it had bit him, then surged up off of the bench and looked around wildly. Then he realized the phone itself must have picked up his voice. It now sat on the ground looking completely innocent. He half expected it to grow fangs and wings and then chase after him. He reached down and cautiously picked it up again.

There's a way out.

"I am not killing myself, you bitch."

Woah, you went dark pretty fast. No, I was thinking more like an apology.

He ran a hand through his hair. His desire to hold out and be vindicated warred with his desire to simply have an end to this whole nightmare. The latter desire finally won out. "Okay, I'm sorry! Please, just give me my name back!"

I'm not the one to apologize to, dipshit.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "I see. You mean...her?"

She has a name, you know. Karen Braydon.

"I apologize to her...to Karen, and you'll stop?"

Yes. And the apology has to be in person, no text or video.

"She lives in London, damn it! That's clear around the planet!"

You're breaking my heart, asswipe. Go. Apologize. And I'll be watching. I want to see some good old-fashioned groveling. You do that, and I'll call the hounds off.

The phone shut off. Gilbert looked at the ground as he put it back in his pocket. Then he slouched out of the park in defeat. He hoped he had enough money left for a flight to London.