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I bend my arm and thrust my elbow backward, use the impact with the body behind me as leverage to spin away, and break free of the painful hold.
I know who it is before I see him. Nobody else would grab me hard or speak to me in that angry tone. But when my eyes land on the man who grabbed me. I’m not sure I’m seeing things clearly.
My ex isn’t his usual put-together self. He looks like he slept in his clothes. His hair is a mess, his shirt wrinkled and untucked, and the bags under his eyes seem to indicate he’s had no sleep at all.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he grits through clenched teeth, his hands fisted at his sides.
It takes everything I have not to cower. All the pep talks I’ve had with Michelle over the last few weeks have done wonders for my backbone, but the urge to shrink away, make myself small and not offer any resistance is strong.
No. My back straightens. I’m stronger. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He takes a step toward me and I fight to keep my ground, brace one foot ready to lift my knee if he gets any closer. “Is that anyway to speak to your boyfriend?”
I lift my chin, keep my shoulders up. “My boyfriend isn’t here.”
I don’t know who’s more shocked by my words. Him or me.
I have no idea why I said that. No idea why my brain thought it was a good idea to make up a fictional boyfriend. But before I can backtrack or say anything else, he’s talking. Ranting.
“You’re dating that old fuck? The one you couldn’t keep your hands off in the parking lot? Were you cheating on me with him? You fucking slut.” He moves closer, arm out, and I can’t help it. I step back. “I should—”
“You should walk away. Now.”
The deep authoritative voice comes from the shadows behind my ex. I don’t recognize it and it isn’t until the man steps into the light that I see his uniform. He’s one of the hospital security guards. I’ve seen him around, smiled, tipped my head, but I’ve never spoken to him.
“Fuck off, Gerry, this is between me and her.”
“Actually, it’s between me and you.” When the guard takes another few steps toward us, I see his name badge says Gerald and he has his hand resting on his utility belt. The last thing I want is for this to escalate. If I can find a way to smooth things over…
“I need to get inside. My shift starts in a few minutes.” Skirting around the car beside us, I avoid getting close to either man before I quick-step my way between parked cars, my focus solely on the door I need to go through to get to the basement where the hospital kitchen is.
I don’t look back. Don’t want to see the look on my ex’s face or hear anything else he has to say. He’s not supposed to be here. I know his shifts are staggered so we don’t cross paths. Why is he here this morning? Looking like he slept in a gutter.
It doesn’t matter. I just have to get through today. One final shift and I’m out of here for good. I can only hope out of sight really does mean out of mind.
It’s not until I’m inside the building, in our staffroom, my bag tucked away in my locker and pulling on my apron that some of what my ex said finally stops me in my tracks.
You’re dating that old fuck? The one you couldn’t keep your hands off in the parking lot?
The only person I’ve touched recently is Granger. I hugged him.
Two weeks ago.
In the parking lot of the Lodge.
In Winter Lake.
A coldness slithers down my spine and goose bumps rise like a tsunami from my head to my toes.
He’s been following me? Watching me?
How did I not know? Why didn’t I see him?
Glancing over my shoulder, I find the room as empty as when I entered. Except my skin has that creepy-crawly sensation like there are eyes on me. Like I’m not alone. My gaze moves to the security camera in the corner of the room. Is he in the security room watching me?
The door bursts open and I can’t keep the squeal from escaping, or from jumping back, putting the table and chairs between me and the person entering.
When my gaze lands on Michelle, I suck in a breath, every muscle draining of tension so quickly I have to put my hands on the back of a chair to stay upright.
