The Fence || h. s.

11 || First-class Performance

"Are you absolutely certain that there isn't anything more you can do?" I ask the security agency guy for the umpteenth time, but the man just shakes his head grimly.

"I'm sorry, miss. Like I said, he avoided the cameras in the backyard. The smartest thing would be to formally report the break-in, and get the local police involved. We don't have the authority to check the street cameras like they do, and they might have caught the moment of the culprit escaping—"

"No," I swallowed hard, "We can't involve the authorities. This will have to stay between us." 

The man nods in understanding. Certainly, this must not be the first time he is asked to keep quiet about a possible crime just because his client is well-known. Even though cases like those are mostly kept hush-hush, celebrities deal with stalkers almost on a daily basis, and none of this is out of the ordinary. I'm sure he also knows that news like this breaking out would cause an uproar, but he wouldn't risk his good position in a high-end security company just to earn a few bucks by tipping off some shitty tabloid. 

"I will also have to notify the legal owner of the house, Mr Peter Doherty," he reminds me, and I grit my teeth. As much as I don't want to have my father involved in this, I also know it is inevitable. 

"I understand," I exhale, realising only then that I was holding my breath. Any mention of him and my anxiety levels are flying off the radar. 

"Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave, Miss Doherty?" he asks politely, gathering his things. "Maybe given the circumstances, you would consider hiring a bodyguard for a couple of weeks? From my experience, it takes just a little show of strength to scare them off, and then things should go back to normal." 

"No, it won't be necessary, but thank you," I answer as we make our way towards the front gate. "So you believe it is a typical stalker situation?" 

He nods his head in affirmation, face drawn in a deep frown. "Sadly, yes. Someone must have been observing you for quite a while in order to learn the exact placement of each camera around the property. Either that, or he's someone who knows the house well, but I'm guessing it is out of the question?" 

I shake my head, because there is no way that it could be someone who had been inside my house before. Ever since I moved to Malibu, my crazy partying ways have stopped almost entirely, and I have yet to host even a single house gathering. The only people allowed in are a small number of my close friends. And because I have enough time to do pretty much everything around the house by myself, I don't even hire a maid or gardener, which basically limits the amount of strangers I let into my house to none. 

"I would recommend staying alert for some time. I installed some extra cameras in the front; maybe that would be enough to discourage him or her from coming back," the man shakes my hand in a farewell before disappearing behind the gate. 

Fuck. 

The amount of colourful words filling my head in the last hour was never-ending. I had yet to check the time since Asa had woken me up some time earlier, informing me of the security guy's arrival. Admittedly, I was filled with confusion at first, since the amount of alcohol I had consumed last night must have wiped some of my memories clean. I couldn't recall anything we did after Sally and I had finished the bottle of tequila, except for some flashes of the shattered glass and Sally's terrified sobbing as she finally understood that someone had broken into my house. 

I feel tired and hungover, and yet sleep is the last thing on my mind. How can I allow myself to rest in my bed when someone might have been laying in it just hours earlier? An unpleasant shiver goes down my spine just at the mere thought of it.