“So we can both be killed?” I say, trying to quell my hysteria.
“Gray, you have groceries getting warm in your car. You have to go home eventually. Last time it was a false alarm, and I’m sure it is this time too. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll check together.”
“Do you have time?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot and head for the highway. I’m going to do the off-then-on-again thing anyway, even if it’s pointless.
“I can take a break,” she says.
Celena owns a ceramics studio downtown that offers both paint-your-own pottery for the general public who want a taste of art, as well as classes and memberships for the more serious crowd who want to throw their own pottery on a wheel. She herself has a home studio where she does her work, which sells pretty well in certain circles. I have a number of her pieces that she’s given me or that I’ve insisted on buying from her over the years. She’s incredibly talented.
“I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working on something important,” I say.
“Just go home, and I’ll meet you there,” she says.
I pull into my driveway ten minutes later, and it doesn’t look like anyone followed me home. In any case, I didn’t see anyone get off the highway with me and then get right back on when I did.
I waitin my car in the garage for Celena. She doesn’t live too far away, so she should be here soon. We hung up with each other so I could concentrate on watching for tails.
I want to text Ash, but he’s at practice, then he needs to rest to prepare for a quick trip to Florida tomorrow. He wanted me to come over tonight, but we always stay up way too late when we’re together, and as much as I want to have sex, I can’t be selfish. Kaladin is already suspicious of us, and if he finds out I’m keeping one of his star players from getting his rest, there will be consequences.
We still haven’t done anything in Ash’s bedroom. He either comes to my place, or if we go to his, we’ve had sex pretty much everywhere but the bedroom. He seems to have this fear that if he takes me in there, I’ll run screaming.
We need to break through this barrier, so I’ll have to come up with a strategy for when he gets back.
Celena’s car pulls into the driveway, and we both get out.
“Thanks for – Jesus Christ, Celena!” I say to her as I see the small pistol in her hand. “Why did you bring that?”
She looks at me incredulously. “What do you mean why did I bring it? We’re about to search your house for stalkers, right?”
Celena and I have never seen eye to eye on guns. I hate them, but a small part of me understands why she has one. Celena is a beautiful but tiny woman who lives alone. I get her desire to have protection, even if I think she’s just going to end up accidentally shooting her housekeeper one of these days.
“Isn’t it illegal to drive with that?” I ask.
“I had it in the lock box,” she says.
I sigh and head toward the front door. I’ll leave the groceries in the car until I know the coast is clear. I did a quick scan of the neighborhood earlier, but I didn’t see any unusual cars parked anywhere.
“You go first, John Wick,” I say, opening the door.
Celena goes to the firing range, but I still don’t trust her behind mewith a gun.
Celena and I enter the house. I feel like I should call out to see if my mother is there delivering another bottle of wine, but I don’t. Instead, I grab a knife from the kitchen, the same one as before, and Celena and I go room by room to check the house.
We find no one there, and my body relaxes once we’ve cleared everything, including the basement and attic.
I need to get myself under control. I’m not sure why I’m convinced I’m being stalked, but I can’t live like this.
“All clear,” Celena says. “Are you going to be okay here alone?”
I let out a breath and head for the car to get my groceries. She follows.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Apparently I’m just paranoid.”
Celena grabs a couple bags and helps me schlep them into the house.
“It’s completely understandable,” she says. “Warranted or not, you had a scare a little while ago, and it’s going to take some time to get past that.” She pauses. “Maybe you should consider-”
“I’m not getting a gun,” I say, cutting her off.
