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Namely, one named Trent Aldridge.
His lectures are not something I’m in the mood for right now. It’s bad enough I still have to stop by the library before I head back to the city.
I make my way across campus, but I don’t get very far before that familiar feeling of being followed creeps up on me. Stopping to turn around, I come face-to-face with a man standing a few feet away from me. He’s around forty, with a baseball cap . . . again.
Is it the man from the truck? This time, however, he has a camera in his hand. It’s pointed at me.
Snap. Snap.
What the hell.
I march right up to him before I can stop myself. There is no doubt in my mind this is the work of Trent. He’s probably having me followed. Taking pictures of me for god knows what?
“Give me that camera!” I shout. “It’s not cool to take pic—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re taking pictures of me.”
“No—actually, I’m not, I’m taking pictures of my kid.”
“Dad, is everything okay?” I look behind me, and there is a kid my age.
Shit.
My cheeks begin to warm.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I mutter out. I have never been more embarrassed in my life. My paranoia is officially getting ridiculous.
No one is following you.
No one is taking pictures.
With my head down, I whisper I’m sorry before sneaking off, but I don’t get very far before I hear a familiar voice calling my name.
“Accusing someone in public. That’s a new low for you,” Erin says.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, looking around her to make sure Brad isn’t with her.
The only thing worse than a surprise visit from Erin is a surprise visit from Brad.
“Well, since you don’t answer my calls . . .” She trails off, being ambiguous on purpose.
She’s right.
I don’t answer every time she calls. What’s the point? Every time I speak to her, she asks me what’s going on with Ronald’s money.
Nothing.
Nothing is going on with the money.
The answer is still the same answer I have had for months.
I have to wait until I’m twenty-two. No matter how often I tell her this, my sister never seems to grasp it.
A part of that is my fault. I didn’t tell her about the deal I made with the devil. I didn’t tell her he’s basically blackmailing me. I’m going to have to at some point, or she will never leave me alone. Period.
I decide that moment is now.
