“You come here,” he says decisively.
“You don’t mean?—”
“I absolutely fucking mean it. I want you to pack a bag, get in your car, and come here.”
I hesitate and then ask, “Will you stay on the phone with me?”
“Until you’re at my front door,” he promises.
Balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear, I fly into my room and throw the first outfit I find along with a pair of pajamas into a bag, followed by my phone charger, makeup removing wipes, toothbrush, and deodorant.
“I’m packed,” I whisper, as if my stalker can somehow hear me.
“Okay, good. I want you to put me on speaker and go to your porch. Lock the door and go straight to your car, okay?”
“Okay.” I hoist my bag up onto my shoulder and put the call on the speaker, but I hesitate once I get to the front door. “What if he’s out there?”
“What if he’s not?” Ellis counters.
“I… I don’t know what to do. Fuck.”
“I know it's hard, Princess, but I need you to calm down. I need you to stop for a minute. Suck in a deep breath. Hold it and let it go. Do this as many times as you have to until your heart stops racing.”
“I can't. I don't know how. I can't.” Panic claws at my throat as I slump against my front door, sliding to the floor.
“Yes, you can,” Ellis says, his voice somehow soft and commanding. “We're going to do something my therapist taught me. I want you to tell me five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.”
“Okay, okay. I can see my couch, um, the rug, my coffee table, the lamp, and my bag.” I work my way through the rest of her list, stumbling over the things I can touch and smell. “And I can taste…” I lick my lips. “My lip gloss.”
“That's right. That's good. That's really good, Scar. Now, why don't you look on your doorbell app and see if you see anyone out there?”
I thump my head against the door, feeling like an idiot. “I don't have one.”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Ellis groans, his frustration bleeding through the phone. “Okay, we'll talk about that later. Here’s what I want you to do—take your keys and hold your car key, wait does your car have an actual key or just a fob?”
“Just a fob, but I… I have a big house key.”
“Hold your house key between your first and second knuckle. Keep me on speaker, step outside, look around, lock the door, straight to your car.” His voice softens when he speaks again. “You can do it. I'm right here with you, every step of the way.”
I suck in another deep, shuddering breath. It’s just a few steps. If Nora can survive all the absolute hell she went through, then surely I can survive a walk to my car.
Get it together, Scarlet. You can do this. Youhaveto do this.
I force myself up from the floor and grab my bag before opening my door. It takes all of my strength to cross the threshold, but once I do, I quickly glance from side to side, scanning the parking lot.
Nothing seems amiss, so I shut the door, lock it, and run to my car. I throw myself inside, lock the doors, and start the engine, backing out without even checking my mirrors. Luckily there’s nothing behind me.
“You make it?” Ellis asks.
“Yes, I made it.” I look both ways and then pull out into traffic. “I'm on my way. Please, please don't hang up,” I say, flinching as a pair of headlights pop up behind me on the dark road.
“I'm not going anywhere,” he assures me. “You're okay.”
I turn onto the highway, they follow. My hand tremors as I grip the wheel.
I want to tell Ellis someone's following me, but I'm probably being paranoid. It's more than likely some innocent rando going about their Saturday night.
But what if they are following me? Do I risk looking like an idiot? The logical choice dances around my brain like a strand of thread does the eye of a needle. But I can’t seem to make heads or tails of how to thread the loop when fear, unlike anything I've ever known, is coursing through my system like a raging river during a storm.
