Chapter Fifteen
Emily
I’m so giddy after Hunter and I trade numbers that I almost don’t see the silver shadow that follows me home that night. Almost. But even excitement can’t dull the instincts that I’ve honed over the horrible months since my relationship with Jay fell apart in a hurricane of hate.
I spot him behind me when I’m halfway home, driving his silver sports car and staying just far enough behind me to maintain plausible deniability. That, and to stay outside the dictated range of the restraining order.
Carefully, I take out my phone and dial Sophie.
“Hey Em, you calling to gloat about getting Hunter’s number?” She says cheerily. “I’ll say up front I am jealous.”
“That’s not exactly the reason I’m calling.”
“You should gloat. Maybe we were wrong about him, maybe he’s craving the responsible librarian type. Some guys have that fantasy, you know.”
“Soph, I’m well aware that guys wanting to have sex with quiet librarians is a thing, but that’s not why I called you. I called because Jay’s at it again.”
“Seriously? I thought he’d finally gotten the message and learned to lay the fuck off, especially after you slapped a restraining order on him. Do you want me to call Harper and we can break his kneecaps with a baseball bat? Just say the word, because we would love to teach that creepy fuck a lesson.”
“No.” I smile. They’d do it, too. I even had to stop them, once, when all this first started and they got the full story out of me about all the things Jay had put me through. Not that I haven’t wanted to hurt Jay, but I don’t want to face life with both of my best friends in jail for assault. “I just want to keep you on the line while I drive home. That way there’s a witness and, well, you can call the police if he tries anything.”
“Sure, though I still think you should let us rough him up a little. How about we run him over with my car?”
“It’s a thought.” I smile as I take a turn. Once or twice, I tap my breaks to let Jay know that I’m on to him. He flashes his lights in return.
Another turn, and the distance between us shrinks.
“Hey, Soph?”
“Yeah, Em? What is it?”
I reach a four-way intersection and roll to a stop at the red light. Jay’s car comes up close behind mine. Then even closer. His front end touches my rear bumper, and then he puts more pressure on the gas, pushing me forward. I have to slam on the brakes to hold my car in place. Gears and joints and other metal parts in my car howl at me angrily. I look in the rearview mirror and I see Jay’s face, illuminated in the red of my brake lights. He looks upset, no, angry, no, furious in a way that I only saw him once before. I still have a scar from that time.
“Soph, I think he’s trying to kill me. I’m at an intersection and he’s trying to push my car into the middle with his car.”
“Holy fuck, Em, that’s crazy.”
“I know. What do I do?”
“Stop trying to stop. Just because you’re at a red light, you don’t have to stay there, especially if your ex-boyfriend is trying to murder you. Step on the gas, Em.”
My foot trembles on the brake pedal, but Sophie's urgency breaks through my paralysis. I press down on the gas, hard. My tires screech as they find traction, and my car jumps forward into the intersection. Horns blare and headlights flash as other drivers slam on their brakes to avoid hitting me. My heart pounds in my chest like a war drum.
Jay’s car follows, relentless as a predator closing in on wounded prey. I can see him in my rearview mirror, his eyes wild and unhinged. He swerves slightly, his bumper nearly clipping a passing minivan.
“Sophie, he’s still following me.”
“Go to the police station,” she says.
“No, I can’t,” I say, my voice shaking even more. “His friend works the night shift. I don’t want to deal with that.”
The sound of a blaring horn makes me yelp, and I look in my mirror to see him, mouth open, eyes wide, swerving right toward me. I yank the steering wheel and veer out of the way. He speeds by and then slams on the brakes, smoke billowing from his tires, the air perfumed with the acrid scent of burned rubber.
“Em, I can hang up and call Hunter. He’ll know what to do. I bet he can chase Jay off.”
The idea flashes through my mind, then I get rid of it just as quickly. What parent would want a person with a crazed stalker hanging around their child?
“No, that’s not a good idea, Sophie.”
“Not a good idea? Hunter’s built like a brick house, and he has lots of big scary guns. One look at him and Jay will shit his pants.”
“I think it’s because Jay saw me hanging around with Hunter that he’s gone nuts,” I say. “I need some other plan.”
“OK, fuck. Fine,” Sophie says. She goes quiet for a second, the only sound on the line her agitated breathing. “I’m going to hang up for a second and call Harper. She’s off tonight and she’s been sleeping with the guy who bounces at her bar.”
“Oh, she has? Good for her. I’d been worried she’s been lonely lately.”
“It’s just sex, Em, and it’s not important right now. Well, it kind of is. She usually has him over at her place because she told me he keeps his apartment exactly like a single guy in his twenties, which he is. Head to her place. I’ll call her and give her and her bouncer boy-toy a heads up, and then I’ll head over there, too. The four of us can confront Jay and tell him to back the fuck off.”
“Thanks, Soph,” I say, my gratitude coming out as a gasp when Jay swerves his car and narrowly misses my back end. Is he trying to do some police maneuver to stop me? “I’ll meet you there.”
“Stay safe, Em.”
“I’ll try.”
“Oh, and one more thing: drive faster than the fucking speed limit.”
I flinch. I’ve already run a red light so far tonight, but if there’s anything that calls for breaking traffic laws, saving yourself from your psychotic stalker ex is it. “I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t just do your best. Do it. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She hangs up, I white-knuckle my steering wheel, and slam my foot on the gas.
The engine roars as I tear down the road, the speedometer needle creeping higher. Trees and streetlights blur past in my peripheral vision, but my focus is split between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. Jay’s headlights are still there, unwavering and menacing.
My phone buzzes in my lap. I glance down — it's a message from Sophie: "Harper's on board. Drive safe. We're waiting for you."
I make a sharp turn onto Harper’s street, tires screeching like harbingers of disaster. The familiar single-story craftsman house looms ahead, its porch light a beacon of hope. I spot Harper at the door, her bouncer friend standing beside her like a silent sentinel. He’s a little rough looking, but cute enough. Good for her, I hope he makes her happy.
Jay’s car screeches around the corner behind me, closing the gap faster than I’d hoped. Harper and her friend spring into action, rushing towards the driveway to meet me.
Just then, I feel a jolt — Jay’s car rams into my bumper again, forcing me to swerve uncontrollably. My car skids to a halt on the curb in front of Harper’s house. Before I can even unbuckle my seatbelt, Jay is out of his car and storming towards me, wild-eyed and unhinged.
“Em!” Harper yells, racing down the driveway.
Another car comes screaming down the road, horn blaring, lights flashing. Between the bright glare of the headlights, I make out Sophie’s car. It screeches to a stop next to mine, just as Jay hammers on my driver’s side door.
“Emily, open this door right fucking now,” he screams, his fists smacking into my window. There’s foam at the corner of his mouth as he hammers my window with one hand and yanks on the door handle with the other.
“You get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit,” Sophie screams as she jumps out of her car. There’s a long metal pipe in her hand and she swings it through the air like she wants nothing more than to see Jay’s blood all over it. I love her.
“Stay out of this, bitch,” Jay yells.
“You stay out. She gets to live her own life. You’re not a part of it anymore,” Sophie screams, swinging the metal pipe in wide arcs.
Harper and her not-boyfriend come running up. Harper screams. “I want you out of here, you asshole. Leave my friend alone.”
The not-boyfriend approaches Jay, arms wide, and reaches out to put a hand on him. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you cool it down a bit and we can talk this out?”
Jay takes a swing, and his fist hits the not-boyfriend right in the jaw.
The bouncer staggers back, his head snapping to the side, but he stays on his feet. "Wrong move," he growls, spitting blood from his lip. He shakes off the blow and steps forward again, fists raised in a boxer’s stance.
Harper and Sophie close in behind him, their anger palpable. The metal pipe in Sophie’s hand gleams menacingly under the streetlights. She takes a step closer, her eyes fixed on Jay with a fierce determination I’ve never seen before.
Jay hesitates for a moment, taken aback by the sheer force of our shared defiance. But then his deranged resolve returns, and he lunges at the bouncer, aiming another wild punch. This time, the bouncer is ready. He ducks under the swing and counters with a powerful hook that connects perfectly with Jay’s ribcage.
Jay grunts, his body folding over in pain. For an instant, I see doubt flicker in his eyes. Maybe he realizes that he's outnumbered and outmatched.
Sophie chokes up her grip on the pipe and she looks ready to swing hard enough that she’ll take Jay’s head off.
I dislike Jay. Strongly. But I don’t want to see him decapitated. I have to stop this.
Throwing open the door to my car, I jump out and step between him and Sophie, my hands outstretched toward my friend, thwarting her blow. Jay perks up immediately, straightening, but the not-boyfriend bouncer and Harper both step between him and me.
"Get back in your car and leave, motherfucker," Harper says, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. Her words are not a plea; they’re a warning.
Jay freezes, his entire body still except for his eyes, which burn with a ferocity more intense than anything I’ve ever seen from him. Those eyes glare at me, threaten to consume me, and I feel what little strength there is in my spine burns to ash beneath their fire.
Then I hear Sophie hiss. “Don’t you fucking worry, Em. We got your back.”
“Leave, Jay. You don’t want to get hurt over this. Please, just go,” I say.
Something in the strident tone of my voice touches him, and those fires in his eyes dim just a little. Shaking his head, he snorts, spits, and then returns to his car. Leaning out the window, he calls to me. “You’re making a big fucking mistake, Em. Maybe you’re too innocent or too stupid to know it, but you are. Whatever that new guy you’re fucking is mixed up in, it’s bad. Real bad. And if you keep acting like this, there’s going to be no one around to save your fucking ass when shit hits the fan.”
Before I can open my mouth to retort how crazy he sounds, he slams his foot on the gas and, with tires smoking, speeds off down the road.
Sophie runs down the street after him with the pipe held high and her other hand — sporting an upraised middle finger — raised as well. Even though his car has disappeared into the distance, she still calls out, “Get fucked, you distended pig’s anus.”
Panting, she returns to the group, still holding the pipe like she wants to bash someone’s head in.
Then she points the pipe right at me.
“Em, I don’t care how responsible you want to be. With that psycho shithead skulking around, we are going to teach you how to kill .”