Always So Hard

Three months later...

Sage was wiping down the table tops in the small cake shop she worked at. She tucked her hair behind her ear, conscious that it kept falling out of its ponytail. The place was owned by her friend, Jaz – a larger than life character who loved all things romance. He'd named the place 'Eros and Psyche' and had painted the walls with their love story. Everything was love themed – as if cupid had thrown up over the place.

"Come again soon," Sage chimed as a customer left. They smiled and waved goodbye, Sage waved back – looking as sweet as honey.

"You're so small!" One of the barista's cooed at her when she approached with a tray, ready to take the drinks he'd made. "I could pick you up and put you on a shelf."

Sage laughed.

"Is that what you usually do to small people?"

She made to take the drinks to the couple who'd ordered them but Jaz intervened, putting a hand on Sage's arm to stop her.

"Don't interrupt them now – it's getting good." He muttered – his attention fixed on the couple. Sage joined in on listening in, trying to be subtle about it.

"Are you serious?" The girl exclaimed – looking appalled. Her blushing date rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yep. I didn't know how to tell you. She hits on me anytime you're not around. Last time she kept putting notes in my back pocket and winking." He shuddered.

"Seriously? My nan!?"

Sage had to cover her mouth to keep from making a sound. She couldn't look at Jaz – she knew she'd crack the moment she did. The poor boy nodded.

"I think she wants to rape me." He moaned, looking wretched. "She keeps making comments that I should have a nap in the spare room."

Jaz lost it completely and had to duck down behind the counter – shaking with laughter.

The bell tinkled above the door as a new customer stepped through. Sage had no idea what face she was pulling when she turned to greet them.

"Hello, good afternoon," she greeted. The guy in front of her blinked – momentarily stunned.

Ezekiel wasn't used to people smiling so sweetly at him. And Sage was a vision of loveliness. He stared at her and his usually cold heart, skipped a beat.

Markus, partially hidden by the cake display, was the first to recognise Ezekiel - and he paled at the realisation. Ezekiel, the Mad Dog, was notorious in their neighbourhood. He worked for Skelrun. If you owed Skelrun money then one day he'd send Ezekiel to make sure that you paid. And if Ezekiel asked you to be pay – you did it pronto if you wanted to keep your fingers. And kidneys. The gangster was the stuff of nightmares. Even the police were scared of him.

**

"Shoebill's waiting for you, again." Markus muttered to Sage when, for the fourth evening running, he saw Ezekiel loitering outside the cake shop – waiting for Sage to finish work. Jaz and Sage exchanged worried looks.

"I thought he'd lose interest by now," Jaz hissed unhappily. So had Sage.

"You need to be careful, Sage." Markus warned.

Sage grimaced and focused on mopping, determinedly not looking out of the shop window. Markus had come up with the code name 'Shoebill' for Ezekiel. The creepy-looking bird reminded them of the gangster.

"I heard he beat up some of the Bent Man's lads last night. Two of them are still in hospital."

"Even Skelrun thinks he's a mad dog."

Sage took as long as she could in cleaning the shop – holding onto the hope that Ezekiel would be gone by the time she was done. But Ezekiel was a strangely patient man. He stepped out into Sage's path as soon as she out on the pavement.

"Here," he grunted – thrusting a small package at her. Sage squirmed uncomfortably.

"Please stop giving me presents."

"Take it." It wasn't easy to refuse.

Pouting unhappily, she took the box and opened it. Inside were nestled a pair of earrings. Sage sighed. He'd already given her flowers, a teddy bear, a bag of pick and mix and a handbag.

Pouting unhappily, she took the box and opened it. Inside were nestled a pair of earrings. Sage sighed. He'd already given her flowers, a teddy bear, a bag of pick and mix and a handbag.

"They're lovely, but I really think you need to stop now. I'm not saying no because I want you to give me more things, I'm just not looking to date anyone."

Ezekiel stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I want to walk you home."

Sage hung her head in defeat.

They walked together down the street in total, awkward, silence. Sage noticed pedestrians crossing the road to avoid them – fearfully not making eye contact. "How was your day?" He asked, after a long pause.

"Good."

Ezekiel wished that she'd say more. He loved the sound of her voice. It was so sweet, no matter what she said.

He liked her a lot. More and more, every time he watched her. He liked how small she was – barely reaching his shoulder – and the freckles that delicately covered her cheeks. He liked how cheerfully she smiled when she worked. He liked how sweet and polite she was to everyone. He liked how she played with her hair when she was nervous...

"You work very hard." He commented. From watching her so much, he'd learnt that she didn't just work at the cake shop. But that she also had other part time jobs – delivering food in the evenings and newspapers in the mornings. "I can give you money, if you need it."

"Please don't." Sage's face drained of colour at the thought.

"I can take care of you."

Sage winced. He'd unknowingly hit a sore spot.

"Nothing's free," she murmured softly. "Please, stop with the presents. I'm flattered." (She wasn't.) "But I really think that we're... not a good fit." She glanced up at the giant. Couldn't he see the mismatch between them. He was the scariest looking man she'd ever met.

Ezekiel's face was a patchwork of scars from fights. His nose was ruined from a bad break and he'd once torn his lip so bad that it had been left with a skewed appearance – as if it was being dragged to the side. The bottom lip twitched in independent spasms whenever he grew agitated. Above his mauled left eyebrow, he had a tattoo of a snake and under his eye were the words 'cry baby' in tiny italic script. Sage wasn't brave enough to ask after any meaning behind them.

Ezekiel stared thoughtfully down at his feet as they walked.

"What can I do to convince you?" He asked, his gravelly voice fervent. Sage sighed.

"You can't."

**

Sage yawned sleepily. It was late at night and she was on her bike, delivering food. She'd lost count how many times she'd gone up and down Castle Hill that evening, and her legs felt like jelly. The house she'd been sent to had no lights on – and she knocked loudly on the door and rang the bell, hoping she had the right place. The door opened and she forced a bright smile.

"Your food delivery."

"Oh, thanks." The guy mumbled, not making eye contact and leaning forward to take it from her.

"Have a nice evening."

The guy grunted before slamming the door shut.

She turned, wheeling her bike back up the path but a wolf whistle made her turn her head and she grimaced – seeing a group of lads headed into town. Sage didn't respond to their heckling. Instead, she got back on her bike – keen to put some distance between her and them. But then she heard the guys freaking out.

Sage turned and gawped, stunned to see Ezekiel rounding on the guys. She looked around them. Where had he come from? Had he been following her? The young lads were backing away, apologising to the mad dog. Sage's grip tightened on the handlebars of her bike. Heart racing, she tore off – peddling as fast as she could. She was no longer pegging it to escape the rowdy lads – she running from Ezekiel. How long had he been following her?

She felt sick with worry. What if he didn't give up on asking her out? What if he turned violent? She swerved onto the main road and raced along the cycle lane.

When she got home, wheeling her bike up the stairs to her flat, she encountered another surprise.

"Err, hi." She smiled – taken aback to see her landlord. "How are you?" She saw that he was fixing a light to the wall outside her front door. "I didn't know you were planning to do this..."

"I was amiss, the lighting out here isn't good. I wouldn't want you to be struggling. I'm glad you're here – if there's anything I can do, always let me know – yeah."

Sage blinked. This was... different. "Is the shower still working alright? I remember there's a crack in the wall in the kitchen – I'll organise that to get fixed too. But is there anything else I can do?"

An alarming theory sprung upon Sage. What had caused her landlord to experience a complete personality shift?

"No, I'm ok. Thanks. Is everything ok?"

"Fine, fine. Just be sure to talk to me. There's no need to complain to anyone else."

Sage's smile fell. Her landlord was scared she'd complain about things to someone, and she reckoned she knew which 'someone' would be able to scare her landlord like this. Ezekiel must have had a word.

"Fine, fine. Just be sure to talk to me. There's no need to complain to anyone else."

Sage's smile fell. Her landlord was scared she'd complain about things to someone, and she reckoned she knew which 'someone' would be able to scare her landlord like this. Ezekiel must have had a word.

Sage ran her hand through her hair, repressing the urge to growl. This was too much. The crazy guy was interfering too much in her life, it was insane.

"Sure thing. Have a nice evening, thank you for the light."

She retreated into her flat and sank tiredly against the wall. Ezekiel knew where she lived – how scared should she be? Every story she'd heard about him told her that he was violent. But if she moved house then he'd still know where she worked – he was sinking his presence into all areas of her life.

Sage groaned, covering her face with her hands. Would life never give her a break? Why was it always so hard?