I knew it was him. The temperature of the room had decreased by a few degrees, the conversation levels had decreased, people had turned to look at the doorway. He commanded respect. He'd always made an impressed on any room he went into. I hid, I ducked into the kitchen, leaned against a wall. The boss shouted at me, I was meant to be waiting on the tables but I couldn't breath. Two months, he'd left me alone. Why had he come now? I thought he'd let me go. I could be strong. I'd walked away from him. I'd left. His words didn't have power over me anymore. I picked up my tray and left the kitchen. I picked up empty cups as I walked towards him.
"What'll it be?" I asked, desperately trying to keep my voice light.
"Kneel down." He grinned.
It took everything I had to stop my knees giving way to that command.
"I'll get you a latte then." I walked back to the counter, ordering the coffee and dropping off the the dirty cups. I had to keep calm, I couldn't allow him to get to me, couldn't allow him to know that his words had had an effect on me.
"Where are you living?" He asked as I dropped off his coffee.
"I'm looking after myself. That'll be two euros, twenty." I said leaving his bill on his table.
"You'll come back when university starts again."
I walked away again, went back to waiting, serving. When I looked at the table about half an hour later, he was gone. I sighed a breathe of relief and even managed to smile while a team mate chatted jealously about how I'd managed to ignore the best looking guy who'd ever turned up in the cafe. She giggled, lamenting on how good it would be if I was gay. I graciously told her that if he ever came in again, I'd pass his table straight to her. She'd giggled again, kissed me gently on my cheek and then ran off to help clear up.
He came back everyday that week, always at the same time. He must have been watching me, tracking my movements for ages. My team mates worked out he was following me when he didn't turn up on my day off. They started questioning who he was and then suggested that I get a restraining order when they found out he was my ex.
"I need you, Silas." He told me during the second week of his pursuit of me as I gave him his change.
I walked away from him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
"I wouldn't have raped you, you know."
"I said no and you said you were going to do it."
"Yes, but I wouldn't have raped you. I could never hurt you."
He let me go and I walked back to the counter. My team mate asked if he was bothering me, ready to defend me and kick him out if he was bothering me. Francis saved him the trouble by leaving, grinning at me as he went.
He brought me a gift bag the next time he came. He handed it me just before he left. He'd brought me a collar, almost like a dog collar. With my name on a tag at the front. There was a small loop at the back, like the ones where they attached a dog's lead. The note with it said 'A good owner never hurts his pets'. I looked at it in disgust, I was nothing more than a pet to him, one he could attach a collar to. One he could attach a lead to. I frowned at the image of me, naked, on my knees, wearing a collar, him holding the lead, pulling me around. I realised I was turned on by the image, dropped the collar and ran to throw up. I was a sick as he was. I couldn't convince myself that I only missed him because I'd grown used to his company. He turned me on, with him controlling and with his suggestion of a collar.
"Why aren't you wearing your collar?" He asked the next time he came into the cafe. I put a latte and the gift bag containing the collar down next to him. He never ordered. I just brought him a drink without him asking.
"I'm not your pet."
"You liked it didn't you? Come home, I've got lots of fun toys for us to play with, until you're ready to let me have you."
"Don't you have a job you should be doing instead of coming in here and bothering me?"
"I work just round the corner. A stroke of luck that led me back to you."
