Jealousy Junction by Cathryn Grant (rosie project .txt) 📗

She shrugged, but she placed her glass on the nightstand.

“What did he say?”

“The guy…Dave, disappeared.”

“I told you. And now he’ll be pissed you called the police.”

“We’ll see what happens. They’re going to patrol my street more often.”

“That’s great. Then he’ll really—“

“I don’t understand what’s going on in your head. A guy is stalking you. He followed you here, and you don’t want to do anything about it? You can’t just pretend he’s going away.”

“I know I’m right. He’ll give up. Eventually. He has to.”

“I’m not waiting for eventually.” I walked out of her room and pulled the door closed. I didn’t want to watch her get drunk, and I didn’t want to listen to her endless repetition of how this guy probably wanted to kill her. I was afraid for my sister, but my fear had turned from fear of that guy to fear for her mental state. It made me want to cry. We’d finally started to be friendly toward each other, and now she was going to sit in her room and drink and cower in the face of something she couldn’t even explain.

Chapter 13

It was another week before Tanya finally got stir crazy. During that week, Dave was out there watching us the moment the sun went down, staring up at my living room window, hardly moving. Every night, sometimes three or four times, a police car rolled down the street, and every single time, Dave slipped away into the shadows. He appeared to be aware of the patrol car before they saw him. Where did he go? It wasn’t as if there were a lot of alleys or abandoned buildings around us that offered easy hiding places. And how did he do it so quickly, so completely, as if he’d never been there at all?

It was Saturday night, and Jerry had managed to convince Tanya she was damaging her mental health by cowering inside my house, doing nothing but nurturing her fear, watching TV, and drinking too much wine. He made dinner reservations at Twelve Tables, a very nice Italian place. We all got dressed up, and Jerry assured Tanya she would be fine—safety in numbers.

I couldn’t figure out why the guy was simply watching the house now. He hadn’t followed me again. Of course, I hadn’t gone running, taking Tanya’s advice to work out at the gym for now, and I hadn’t walked to work. But neither had he showed up asking any more questions about me. He seemed content to stare at us, and it was giving me the creeps, wearing at my nerves. In some ways, it was more frightening to have him do nothing because it felt like he was planning something unimaginable. We were all on edge.

Jerry had gone outside a few more times, but each time, Dave disappeared, as if into thin air.

When we left the house for our dinner date, he wasn’t there. I wondered if he’d seen us getting ready to leave and decided to disappear for the night or hidden out of sight among the trees surrounding the lake. I wondered if he was waiting in a car down a side street, ready to follow us to the restaurant. Was he some kind of freak who just liked to watch people? Tanya laughed when I suggested that, but she didn’t disagree.

Walking around my own home like a wild creature on display at the zoo, I wasn’t entirely sure I believed Tanya. She was so certain that this was the guy who had been stalking her back in California, the guy ready to kill her because if he couldn’t have her, no one could. But why didn’t she want to do anything about it? Was she content to let him hover around the edge of her life forever? That seemed like the decision of a person who had lost her grounding in reality.

There was a small, disloyal part of me wondering if she was lying. It wouldn’t be the first time. It seemed odd to me that this guy had misread her so badly and then had the personality type to become a stalker, although maybe those two things do go hand-in-hand. Still, there was something about her willingness to let him harass us with his constant, staring, silent presence that made me think there was a piece missing from her story. Don’t guys who are so easily wounded assault a woman because they’re so instinct-driven, so volatile? She wanted me to believe this guy had such control of his rage that he watched day-to-day and was content with that? It didn’t seem like he was the passionate, jealous type. He seemed more the cold, calculating type.

We went outside and climbed into the Uber.

Just as it was about the pull away from the curb, Tanya tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Wait. I forgot my ID. I put it in the purse I took on the plane.” She flung open the door.

“You don’t need ID.”

“I get carded all the time.” Her voice was snappish instead of the usual purring tone she used to try to prove her superior looks.

I dug out my keys and handed them to her. “You need the alarm code.” I texted it to her so the driver didn’t hear, which I’m sure he loved—being treated like a criminal. I hoped he understood that it was a bad idea to be blabbing my code in front of a stranger, no matter who he was.

I explained to Tanya that she needed to press the start key before the code and the enter button after. She needed to do the same on her way out to reset it. She nodded and raced up to the house with my keys in her hand, as fast as her narrow high heels would allow.

Jerry scooted closer and started kissing me. I kissed him back. I sort of forget about time as our kiss grew deeper and his hands began to rove around my body. After a