Page 96 of Two Sides of Sin

It was a massive, pristine black SUV. The windows were tinted so heavily they looked like black mirrors.

It wasn’t doing anything explicitly wrong. It was just sitting there, idling.

I quickly unlocked my beat up Volkswagen Beetle, tossed my bag into the passenger seat, and locked the doors the second I was inside. I pulled out into the traffic, my eyes glued to the rearview mirror.

Two cars behind me, the black SUV pulled out.

My heart started to hammer a frantic, panicked somersault. “Coincidence,” I whispered aloud, reassuring myself. “It’s just a coincidence.”

I took a sharp right turn down a busy commercial avenue. The SUV took the same turn.

Panic instantly flooded my veins. I hit the gas, weaving aggressively past a delivery truck. I took a sudden, un-signalled turn down a narrow, residential side street lined with parked cars, praying the maze of one ways would throw them off. I took another right, then a quick left, my tires squealing slightly against the damp asphalt.

I checked the mirror. The street behind me was empty.

I let out a ragged, shaking breath, my shoulders dropping as a wave of dizzying relief washed over me. I had lost them. Or, more likely, they had just been heading in a different direction and I was losing my mind like I already suspected.

I drove the remaining way to my apartment complex with my hands trembling, desperate just to get inside, lock my doors and wait for Julian’s phone call.

I pulled into the narrow driveway of my apartment building, shifting the car into park. I killed the engine, leaning my forehead against the steering wheel as I tried to calm my racing pulse.

As I went to step out of the car, my hand faltered grabbing the door handle and I froze as the SUV maintaining its agonising, crawling pace, rolled past with the dark, heavily tinted passenger window facing me directly.

I sat frozen in the driver’s seat, the air trapped in my lungs refusing to release. Even through the black glass, I could feel the intense, predatory weight of a mysterious gaze staring at me, sending a shiver crawling down the length of my spine.

I waited for the SUV to disappear down the block before exiting my car.

I grabbed my bag, practically kicking the door open, and sprinted across the damp pavement of the parking lot. I didn’t care if any of my neighbours saw me running like a madwoman. I bolted up the three flights of stairs, my keys jingling frantically in my shaking hands.

I shoved the key into the deadbolt, threw my weight against the heavy wood, and slammed the door shut the second I was inside. Click. Click. Click. I threw every single lock on the door, leaning back against the cool wood as my chest heaved.

My hands were trembling so uncontrollably I could barely unzip my bag. I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over the keypad before I forcefully dialled the local police department.

“Emerald Grove Police Department, How can I help you?” a bored, nasally voice answered on the third ring.

“Hi, um…” I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal and not like a crazy paranoid person. “I need to report a stalker, or… a suspicious vehicle. A black SUV just followed me all the way from the campus library to my student apartment building.”

“Okay, ma’am. Did the driver exit the vehicle?”

“No,” I admitted, my grip tightening on the phone. “But they followed my exact turns. And then they drove past my driveway. Really, really slowly. They were looking right at me.”

The dispatcher sighed, a soft, static sound of exhausted patience. “Did they threaten you? Make any aggressive gestures?”

“Well, no, the windows were heavily tinted, but⁠—”

“Ma’am, unfortunately, driving slowly on a public street isn’t a crime,” she interrupted rudely, the lack of urgency in her tone making my stomach sink. “Unless they trespass on your property, attempt to make unauthorised contact, or threaten you, there isn’t much we can do. I can note the vehicle description, but I can’t dispatch an officer just for a suspicious car.”

“Right. Okay. Thank you,” I whispered, pulling the phone away and ending the call.

I let my head fall back against the door with a hollow thud. They thought I was just a paranoid student. I felt like a paranoid student.

I pushed myself off the door and walked into the kitchen, desperate to force myself into a normal routine. I pulled a cutting board out and a few fresh ingredients, intending to make a simple dinner, but the silence of the apartment was suffocating.

I picked up the knife, but my eyes immediately darted to the window over the sink. The evening light was fading, turning the glass into a dark mirror.

A shudder ripped through me. I dropped the knife.

I couldn’t stand the exposed glass. I walked quickly into the living room, grabbing the heavy curtains and yanking them shut, plunging the room into shadows. I moved to my bedroom, pulling the blinds down so hard they rattled against the frame.