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Chapter 32: Lilah
As I drive, I try to wrap my head around this whole morning. My mind keeps repeating things over and over and over. From the footage of the man entering my house, to Ben's vandalized car, to his confessions...
My heart hurts.
I'm angry.
I feel dirty and violated at the thought of someone skulking through my house, touching god knows what. I'm going to have to burn everything I own and start over somewhere fresh.
As I mull things over, I wonder if I might have been a little unfair to Ben. His confession was a lot to take in, but would I have flown off the handle like that if I wasn't already upset about the video of the stalker? Probably not.
I still would have been hurt, though.
This was a huge secret to keep from me. Sure, we've only been seeing each other for a few weeks and it's not like he knows every single thing about me. And I suppose he can't just go blabbing that hacking stuff around to every person he meets. I'm not a lawyer, but I'm fairly certain he'd go to prison for a long ass time if he got caught.
I shudder at the thought of Ben in a prison jumpsuit. No matter what happens between us, I’ll protect his secret.
I wonder how many women he’s helped. How many predators and abusers has he stopped? If he was telling the truth, he’s making the world a better, safer place. Maybe his methods are a little… morally ambiguous. But I bet the people he’s helped and protected along the way don’t care.
I've been driving aimlessly but end up outside Olive Branch Bakery. I pull in and park in the back next to the dumpsters. Olive isn’t expecting me, but I could use a coffee and a hug from my sister. I'll make it quick; I decide. And then I’ll go back and talk to Ben.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab my purse. As I pick it up, I see the little black box I found under my Jeep yesterday. Jesus, was that really just yesterday? I set my purse back down, picking up the box and rolling it around in my hands as I take another look at it. A cold weight sinks in my stomach for like the tenth time today.
How stupid can I be? Yesterday, I wondered why a car part would be magnetic instead of wired in. The short answer is, it wouldn't be. I am a fucking idiot. A naïve, trusting idiot. If someone is bold enough to break into my house, they're sure as shit bold enough to stick a tracker on my car.
I should call the police, but I can't tell them about the video without talking to Ben. I need to make sure I don't say the wrong thing and land him in trouble.
Ben.
I should call Ben. I bet dollars to donuts he could figure out who bought it and stuck it on my car before the police even finished filing a report. After what he said, and the way I left, I feel sick to my stomach. Just thinking about the look on his face when I drove away is enough to break my heart. I can't believe I said that it was just sex. Way over the line.
I need to call him, like, right now. I need to tell him what a dummy I was, and I need to apologize my face off. I dig around in my purse looking for my phone only to realize that I left it in Ben's fridge. A little growl escapes my throat as I remember the way I stormed out while my phone languished next to Ben's bacon.
I need to go inside and use the phone, but I don't know what to do with the box. If it really is a tracker, and I'm pretty sure it is, I really want to huck it into the nearest body of water. But then Ben couldn't use it to figure out who put it on my car, and I wouldn't be able to hand it over to the police or file a report. I can't throw it away, but I also really don't want to carry it inside. It feels tainted.
I could hide it behind the dumpsters, I reason. No one will mess with it there, and if anyone is paying attention to its location, it would look like it's still in the parking lot. It's marginally better than keeping it in my possession or leaving it in my Jeep. The whole situation sucks so hard. Tears are welling in my eyes again, borne of the helplessness of the situation. I'm overwhelmed and frustrated, and I feel like a dick for the way I treated Ben.
This is all so stupid. I was stupid. I want Ben. Just Ben and nobody else. And I really want to apologize for storming off after he told me he loves me. That was so shitty of me.
I let my frustration and anger takeover, and sob into my hands for a minute before pulling myself together. I need to deal with everything that has gone wrong this morning, starting with the stupid fucking tracker.
"Suck it up, Lilah." I mutter to myself as I brush the tears from my face. Taking the black box, I hop out of the car and scoot around the narrow space between the dumpster and privacy fence. I tuck the box on a little rail that sticks out behind the dumpster. The magnet thunks into the metal, keeping it secure. There. I'll come back for it once Ben gets here.
I've got this, I think as I turn and brush my hands down my hips. This is fine.
At least it would be, if there wasn't a man standing at the end of the dumpster, blocking my way. Startled and already on edge, I let out a scream before I can stop myself. My fear turns to anger when I realize I recognize the man.
"Terry?" I ask. "What are you doing here?" He might be the absolute last person I want to see right now.
"I've been worried about you," he says in a calm voice, as if it's perfectly reasonable for someone to sneak up on a former employee behind a bunch of trash.
"Right... well, I'm fine," I say as I gesture for him to let me by. He pretends like he didn't see it and holds his position. A heavy dread spreads through my limbs and I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"Why did you quit the bar? We never see each other anymore." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. The dead-eyed way he watches me coupled with his flat tone gives me the willies. I don't think I ever realized how empty his eyes look until this moment.
"My sister needed more help here at the bakery. It sucks, but family first. You know how it is. She's probably looking for me. I should head inside, but it was great seeing you." I play dumb and force out a cheerful smile, even though I already know the truth. It was Terry. The calls, my battery, Ben's car, and the goddamn tracker. It was all Terry and I'm about five seconds from throwing up on his stupid wingtip shoes.
Unfortunately, I'm not much of an actress and he isn't buying the innocent act. His lips pull up to the side in a sneer.
