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It’s fine. You’re fine.
No one’s following me.
No one knows I’m even gone.
Trent doesn’t know where I am.
I don’t believe my bullshit, palming my phone just in case. But knowing Trent, he probably had one of his goons deactivate it again.
And this is a man you kissed back.
I force myself to relax. I’m not doing anything illegal. I can take a little break. Trent never said I have to be at his place every minute of every day. He just said I have to live with him. Not one time did he state that I cannot stay with Heather for a few days.
Or at least tonight.
As long as I maintain everything else, it’s totally reasonable.
A sleepover, a little girl time, is exactly what I need.
Throughout the rest of the ride, I still feel as though something is wrong. Maybe Trent is having me followed.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
He has the money to. And the astounding lack of boundaries.
Of course, he would.
Anyone who has gone through betrayal from a father would not be above having me followed. I know because if I had the money, I would have someone track Erin. Make sure she’s still alive. That whatever sicko she’s dating isn’t getting her into something dangerous and destructive.
But you don’t have the money. And whose fault is that?
My stomach growls out of nowhere.
I forgot to eat.
Maybe I have a protein bar in my bag. Normally, I carry something to munch on since I’m always running around.
I start to go through my bag to look for a snack. When I get to the small side compartment, my finger slips through a hole in the bottom.
Dammit. This is a new bag, and it’s already torn.
It feels like something is stuck in there, too.
Carefully, I probe the hole to see what it is. When I find the small object, I fish it out.
I stare at it, brows furrowed. It’s some kind of weird black metal device in my grasp. Never held one in my life before. It reminds me of a USB flash drive.
Lifting it up to get a closer view, I realize that’s not what it is at all because there is no plug for the computer.
That’s when I realize where I’ve seen it . . .
Every stupid spy movie I ever watched flashing before my eyes.
It’s a tracking device.
Trent isn’t having me followed; Trent is fucking tracking me.
He already mentioned his access to my phone. Now I realize he put a tracking device in my bag as well. Probably because he knows if I don’t want him to find me, I could turn my phone off. This, I can’t get rid of, because I didn’t know about it.
