Jiya #2
I had survived Jeremy. I had endured fear before. And if I had to face it again, then so be it.
Stepping out of the car, I began walking toward the entrance, my footsteps measured despite the violent thudding of my heart. Each breath came quicker than the last, yet my mind remained focused.
Halfway to the doors, I stopped and bent down to tie my shoelaces, using the moment to glance around without drawing attention to myself.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
I looked back.
That was when I saw him hesitate for a second.
A tall man dressed in a dark jumper and jeans walked toward me. He wore sunglasses and a cap, yet nothing about him appeared threatening at first glance. He looked ordinary. Average. The kind of man no one would ever notice twice.
But I noticed him.
I had been noticing him for weeks.
I stood up slowly as he closed the distance between us.
My hand instinctively moved beneath my sweater, gripping the handle of the gun concealed against my back.
“Why are you following me?” I demanded.
The man blinked rapidly, startled by the accusation. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen your car around my neighbourhood. I’ve seen you outside my restaurant. And I’ve seen you following me.” I took a slow step closer, lowering my voice. “Who are you?”
Confusion flickered across his face before unease quickly replaced it. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“No,” I replied firmly. “I haven’t.”
His breathing visibly changed. Faster now. Less steady.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Dominic Peters,” I said calmly. “Forty-five years old. Married. Two children. Works at a bank.”
His eyes widened instantly.
“How do you know my name?”
“I know enough to understand that whatever you’re doing, you’re hiding it.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “So I’ll ask you one more time. Who sent you?”
“I swear, no one sent me,” he said quickly, raising both hands slightly.
“Put your hands down,” I snapped. “Now.”
He obeyed immediately.
“Please,” he said, struggling to steady his breathing. “I have a family.”
“Then tell me the truth.” My grip curled against the concealed gun beneath my sweater. “Because if you keep following me and my children, this situation becomes a lot bigger than you think.”
Fear spread visibly across his face.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he blurted out. “I was only hired to keep an eye on you.”
My stomach dropped.
“Hired by who?”
He hesitated.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I shifted slightly and lifted the edge of my sweater just enough for him to see the gun tucked against my lower back.
The colour drained from his face.
“Your mother,” he blurted out immediately. “Karena Townsend.”
I froze.
My mother?
The words slammed into me so hard I nearly stopped breathing.
Impossible.
“What?” I snapped. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying, I swear!” he said desperately. “She asked me to keep an eye on you. She wanted information about your life… your children… that’s all.”
My mind spun violently.
Why would my mother spy on me?
She was the one who had cut ties with me. She was the one who had walked away. She had made it painfully clear she wanted nothing to do with me.
So why now?
“Call her,” I demanded. “Right now.”
With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and dialled the number.
The moment the call connected, I snatched the phone from him.
“What is it?” a woman asked on the other end. “What’s wrong?”
I recognized the voice instantly.
Karena.
“That’s exactly what I would like to know, Mrs. Townsend,” I said coldly.
A sharp gasp echoed through the line.
“Why are you spying on me?” I demanded. “What do you want?”
“Please,” she said, her voice cracking instantly. “Please listen to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to know you were alright. I—”
“By having someone follow me?” I interrupted harshly. “Do you have any idea how insane that is?”
“Please,” she begged again. “Let’s meet and talk about this.”
Anger surged through me so violently that my hands began to shake.
What did she think she was doing?
How could she spy on my children and me like this after disappearing from my life for years?
“You had your chance when we met,” I said through clenched teeth. “It’s too late now. I don’t want anything to do with you.” My voice dropped lower. Colder. “Call off your investigator and stay away from my family.”
“Jiy—”
I ended the call before she could finish speaking.
Without another word, I shoved the phone back into Dominic’s hands.
“Don’t let me see you near my house again,” I warned. “Stay away from my children. Stay away from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, backing away. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry.”
I watched him retreat to his car, my entire body rigid with tension. Only after he drove away did I finally release the breath trapped in my lungs.
My hands trembled violently.
Covering my mouth, I stood there shaking as the adrenaline slowly drained from my body.
Relief washed through me, knowing the situation had ended without violence. More importantly, no one else had witnessed what had happened.
Fear had taken over again. Every memory of Jeremy—every lesson about survival, vigilance, and danger—had come rushing back to the surface.
But I had handled it.
I had protected my children.
I repeated the words silently to myself as I stood alone in the parking garage.
He’s not coming back. Neither Jeremy… nor Dominic Peters.
And this time, it’s over.