James owns Doc’s. He’s in his late fifties, married with two children and three grandchildren. I’m thankful everyday that my first ever job was working for a boss like him. I’ve heard some of the other people at work talk about nightmare bosses, and I’m glad I never got to experience that. Also, a little sad that I didn't get my first job until I was twenty-seven.
“I’m going to tell you like I always do, you donotneed to keep thanking me. I’m just happy to see that you’re doing so well and you still like where you’re working. I know that James really enjoys having you there too.” She tells me with her warm smile and a firm tone.
We eat our dinner in a comfortable silence, then spend some time chatting and catching up, since it’s been a couple of weeks since I was last here. She probes me with questions about the latest local drama, as if I’d pay attention. Having heard some of it at the bar though, I fill her in on what I do know. I always want to ask her if she’s spoken to my uncle andfind out how he’s doing or if he asks about me, but I know I shouldn’t. I’m not even sure if they’re the kind of friends who speak regularly or if Hazel is someone he’s worked with in the past. Still though, curiosity eats at me. I can’t explain how much I miss him–he’s the only part of my old life that Idomiss–but overall, I’m grateful I’m here.
After dinner I help with the dishes and ask if she needs my assistance with anything else before I go. She waves me off, as she always does. “I’m fine, Sweetie. You go home and enjoy the rest of your night off.” After she walks me to my SUV, we say our goodbyes for the evening and I climb inside. Turning the ignition, I turn and give her a wave, then back out of the driveway and hit the road.
It’s a short drive to my house but the whole time I’m on high alert. That feeling I felt at the bar hits me again. Somewhere out there, I know someone is watching me and I just can’t shake it. People say to always listen to your gut, and mine is telling me something is wrong. Using my rearview mirror, I scan my surroundings but don’t see anything out of the ordinary. The hairs on my body begin to raise and I check all of the mirrors of my vehicle. Noticing a few cars pass me, going the opposite direction, I don’t see anything that should be making me feel as though someone is drilling holes in the back of my head.
What the fuck?
Quickly I peek over my right shoulder into the back seat to check that someone didn’t climb into my car while I was parked at Hazel’s. I know I locked my doors, I always do, but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know that it wouldn’t stop an axe murderer.
Great, and now I can add paranoia to the list of shit that’s wrong with me.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I focus back on the road. Even after reaching for the volume, turning up Halsey’sNightmare, I find that not even the loud music is enough to distract me from the feeling of eyes following me.My safety net feels like it’s beginning to fail after two years, two years of peace. I don't know what has my nerves on edge, but something is off.
The rest of the drive home I rack my brain but come up short as far as an explanation. No nightmares, I haven’t had any anxiety or lost too much sleep.NOTHING. Absolutely nothing has happened up until now and either I’m fucking losing it, or my intuition is right, and someone’s out there.
Once I’m home and showered, I sit in my bed and watch as one of my favorite TV show characters takes on the mark of Cain while holding my breath.I love this show.I knowwhyhe is taking on the mark, but I’m pissed off. He’s been through so much already as it is, and now he has to deal with this bitch ass demon. I know what’s about to come is going to be epic, but I can't help but feel bad for him; let the man rest.
At some point I start to doze off, but before the darkness can fully drag me under, a noise from outside the french doors of my room sends me flying into a seated position on the bed. The end credits for the episode I was watching are rolling and the light from both the TV and my bathroom bathes my bedroom in a soft glow.
Damnit, now I’ll have to start that episode all over again.
Cautiously getting out of bed, I tip toe over to the bathroom and shut the light off. I hate the dark, but I need to see what that sound is and I don't want the light to give me away. With my gaze never leaving the doors I creep back over to the bed, turn the TV off, and crawl over the mattress. The hairs on my arms stand at attention and a chill runs through my body. Drawing in shallow breaths, I walk over to the doors and separate the blinds at the corner of the glass.
I peek through and scan the back deck but I don't see anything. Looking again, I search past the deck, over the back yard and into the treeline. Just as I’m about to give it up and go to bed, movement catches my eye at the edge of the woods. It’s quick. Just as soon as I notice it, it’s gone.No, it’s hiding.I feel light headed as I take a step back and slide down the wall.
Someone’s here.
Chapter five
Standing tucked inside thesafety of the treeline that covers her driveway, I watch Parker lock the front door to her house and walk over to her car. It’s sunny outside but the dense forest provides enough darkness that she can't see me. She’s wearing a simple, yet breathtaking outfit, hair down, and I can tell she's not wearing any makeup.
She is without a doubt, the most breath taking woman that walks this earth.
After she backs out of the driveway, I wait a beat before I make my way back to my bike. Once I pull on my helmet, I start the bike and take off in the direction she went, catching up to her in no time. The streets are busy enough I’m able to keep her in my sights, but go unnoticed.
I watch her go into a grocery store, pharmacy, a clothing store, and a couple of other random stops. I follow inside each and every one of them. Today she doesn’t seem as on guard as she was last night at the bar. She seems more relaxed, and her lack of awareness is working to my advantage. I watch the way she smiles politely at people who say hello, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear,left ear,how she smells the flowers in the grocery store and runs her fingers along their petals gently. She rolls her lip between her teeth when she’s concentrating, and her hips sway gently when sheglides down the aisles. She’s much shorter than me–maybe five feet tall, with an hourglass shape, thick thighs, and the most incredible curves.
As the sun starts to go down, I follow her to a neighborhood and park around the corner from our current stop. Swinging my leg over my bike, I head in her direction, using the trees that line the sidewalks for cover. She makes her way across a small concrete sidewalk, then climbs the stairs to a full sized porch that runs the length of a small, ranch style home with red shutters, and window boxes with flowers that spill over them. Raising her arm, she knocks on the door.
Who is she stopping to see? A friend? A boyfriend?My blood boils at the thought.I hope for your sake it’s not a boyfriend, Sweetheart, because he’ll be gone soon.
A middle aged woman, maybe fifty, opens the door. She has shoulder length silver hair and a petite frame. She wears a pair of dark washed jeans and a wine colored pull over sweatshirt. She beams at Parker, making her bright blue eyes sparkle and pulls her into a hug, then ushers her in the house.
I wonder who the woman is. Her mother maybe?
After waiting around for a while, it’s clear she plans on staying for a bit longer. Waiting a moment, I look around to make sure no one in the neighborhood sees me. Once I’m sure I won’t be spotted, I walk closer to the house. Scanning the outside of the house to make sure she doesn’t have cameras, I cautiously flip the u-shaped lock on the gate to the front yard. Pressing my body against the side of the house, I take slow steps around the perimeter while continuously scanning the area.
I need to make sure this area is safe enough for my girl.
Reaching the back side of the house, I slowly peek into the corner or a low sitting window. Parker sits at an island in the kitchen, and the woman is plating food for them. They’re deep in conversation and I note the lookon Parker’s face. She watches the woman with admiration, and I can tell she’s comfortable here. The woman sets both plates down, and gracefully sits in the seat next to Parker. Satisfied she’s safe here, I decide to leave and take the same path out of the yard.
Closing the front gate softly behind me, I once again use the trees along the sidewalk to remain undetected–a feat in broad daylight if you ask me. It’s not as if there’s no one around. There are some kids riding their bikes up and down the street, and couples walking their dogs. Normally, I’d scoff at peoples’ lack of awareness, but today, their complacency has been a friend of mine. Making it back to my bike, I pull my phone out of my pocket to see a text from Karson.
Karson
