Chapter Thirty-Four
KNOX
AS I step out of the room, I lean against the closed door, feeling completely deflated and exhausted yet somehow restless.
Every nerve in my body feels like angry electric shocks are forcing their way through my skin and muscles.
The pulses start in my bandaged hand and run up my arm.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cash coming from the kitchen into the hallway.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I bring my finger to my lips in a shush motion, pointing to the closed door behind me.
I know Venny isn’t sleeping, but I don’t want her distracted from resting by conversation.
I lead Cash down the hallway back into the front room.
“So, what did they have to say?” He asks me as we enter the living room.
I don’t immediately answer, taking a seat on the long couch. As I gather my thoughts, Zeke comes in as well.
“Where’s Via?” I ask them.
“Picking up those prints I ordered last week,” Zeke answers. “She didn’t know you’d be back so early.”
I nod, his excuse on her behalf unnecessary. Neither of them speaks, clearly waiting for me.
“Her name is Gillian Wilson, the woman who did this. She’s a fan,” I say, although using that shortened word to describe her feels wrong in the moment.
Gillian is the truest definition of a fan.
A fanatic. “The police were able to trace her through the car she used and the…DNA she left. They are trying to track her down.”
Small comfort.
“But she’s still running around out there,” I finish, tugging at my beard hairs.
“Fuck, cuz,” Zeke says, looking shocked.
He sits down heavily next to me, his arm draped over my shoulder in a comforting way.
“I’m not even sure what I was hoping for before they told us. Maybe a random intruder? Did I think that would be better somehow? But she’s been stalking me for weeks.” I say. “Fuck! I brought that shit into this house.”
I say weeks, but it’s obvious to me Gill’s been watching me for even longer.
As soon as Raven mentioned our first date, my memories reset to include Gill.
My focus had been so intently on Ven that night that Gill’s face had just become part of the background mosaic.
Just another music lover I’ve run into in real life.
I brought that fucking psycho into Raven’s life.
“No, Knox,” Cash says, sitting down on the other side of me. “This sounds like someone who let a fixation become unhealthy. That’s not on you.”
I don’t believe him but nod.
“I need to call Ma,” I say after a long silence.
“Bille Jo doesn’t know yet?” Cash asks.
“No. I didn’t really know what to say to her until now.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Zeke says.
“We need to talk about the upcoming shows we are supposed to be doing when Via gets back,” I continue, my brain bouncing round eighteen different thoughts. The state of my hand means playing guitar is out of the question.
“No man, don’t worry about that right now. Call your mom and let her know what’s going on,” Zeke says.
He squeezes my shoulder once before dropping his arm.
“Thanks,” I say, standing up and leaving the living room. As I pass by the downstairs bedroom door, I pause, listening in on Raven. I don’t hear any noise or movement, so I continue into the kitchen, pulling out my phone.
The line only rings two times before Ma picks up.
“Hi, honey,” she says brightly.
“Hey, Ma.”
“How are you? Still enjoying the band? Are things starting to slow down for y’all?”
I look at my still bandaged hand, taking a seat at the table. Was it only three days ago I sat here with my best friends laughing and joking? Eating heartily and planning for a future that almost got snatched away from me?
“A lot has happened in the last few days, Ma.”
I tell her everything, only leaving out the detail of that woman leaving her panties in the closet.
I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my mind around all the implications there.
Fucking sicko. The longer I talk, the more a bad taste starts forming on the ridges of my tongue.
That biting flavor only increases each time I say her name.
It’s not exactly bile, but it’s acrid and has an spicy aftertaste that has me wanting to drink an entire glass of water to get the taste out of my mouth.
Instead, I push through the final details.
It’s silent for several seconds on Ma’s end as I bring my story up to the present.
“Raven is scared, Ma. Hell, I’m scared. The police are looking for this Gill, but as far as any of us can tell, she’s completely in the wind.”
“Tell me what you need, baby.” Ma’s tone is serious.
“I need to get her out of town for a few weeks. Give the police space to work and her time to heal.”
I watched the nurse redress some of Ven’s more shallow wounds on her first full day in the hospital.
I am not a squeamish person. In fact, I sometimes find myself seeking out things that make other people uncomfortable, the forever rubbernecker.
But I had to leave her room the moment I saw the bright red blood across the white gauze, breaking out in a cold sweat and feeling dizzy enough to need to sit down for a few minutes.
I thought I would be better the second day, but if anything, my disquiet only deepened as I saw the vicious nature of the wounds Gillian had inflicted.
“Give us both time to heal,” I add.
“Come on home, Knox.”
For the first time since she answered, I actually pause and think about that.
We have no idea where Gillian is. The last piece of information the police could tell me was that she was headed southwest. She was spotted withdrawing cash from an ATM at the Arizona/Utah border and has since gone off the grid.
It seems like she’s headed in the opposite direction that I want to take Raven, but still.
Maybe it’s just a ruse on her part. Do I want to risk her learning where my mother lives?
After another moment of hesitation, I push forward with this idea.
This house is not safe, and my gut tells me Ven won’t feel any safer in a nearby hotel.
We need a few hundred miles between us and this space, the memories too fresh.
“Are you sure, Ma? I have no idea where this crazy is. She could literally follow me back.”
“I still have most of your father’s guns here. She’ll regret stepping onto my property. This is a shoot-first, ask-questions-never kind of house.”
I chuckle even through my nerves. I can imagine my five-foot-nothing mother grabbing one of those giant shotguns and firing off a few rounds.
“If you’re sure…”
The little kid in me hopes she is sure. Do you ever really grow out of wanting your parents to make everything better?
“Yes. It will give me a chance to meet this girl of yours, too. I want to meet the woman who’s got you so focused on your music again. You never bring anyone home.”
“She’s incredible, Ma. Smart. Driven. Talented. But I can’t think of a worse reason for you to meet her.”
“We don’t always get to choose things like that, Knox. But if you two coming here gives me a chance to meet her and you both time and space to recover, that’s what we should focus on.”
My shoulders relax slightly.
“She doesn’t want to sleep here, and frankly, after learning what I did from the police, neither do I. I’ll pack us up this…” I look for a clock.
Damn, it’s only 9:30, and I already feel like the day is half gone.
“This morning,” I go on. “We’ll be on the road by this afternoon. Probably before noon, depending on how fast I can get everything in order.”
“I’ll have your favorite waiting for you.”
I’m already smelling the chicken and dumplings that made Ma’s famous in our little town. My mouth starts watering a little at the thought, taking away the final remnants of unpleasant spice from my taste buds.
After a pause, she says, “I love you, Knox.”
“I love you, Ma. I’ll text you when we are leaving. It won’t be but a few hours.”
“Be careful, honey.”
I freeze in thought and motion for a moment, her words settling over me like a cold, suffocating weight.
My stomach knots so tightly it almost hurts, the pain from my own wound pulsing with every heartbeat.
Gillian already tried once to figure out where I live by slipping something onto my person without me noticing.
She smiled through the whole thing, acting like nothing more than an excited but ultimately harmless fan while quietly crossing a line most people wouldn’t even think to approach.
I hadn’t seen it coming then, hadn’t taken that escalation seriously enough.
I thought that blocking off her direct access to me via social media—because there is no doubt she has been the one behind the anonymous messages to me—would end whatever path she is on.
But she devised a way to find me anyway.
The realization leaves an ugly, crawling sensation beneath my skin, as if invisible eyes are already following my every move.
How many opportunities did it take her to finally find this house?
And how did she finally do it? Another slip of the hand over a guitar case, in the lining of my jacket backstage?
On my motorcycle? Did she simply wait outside the venue one night and follow me all the way back?
The uncertainty is worse than knowing. It makes every possession I have suddenly suspect.
I will be checking and double-checking absolutely every item we pack to ensure Gillian has no idea where we are headed.
Every zipper, every seam, every box and bag.
If I have to tear our luggage apart piece by piece before we leave, I will.
If I have to switch rental cars, I will.
If I have to take every back road between here and just past the middle of nowhere before doubling back, I will.
I’ll assume Gill’s already two steps ahead and plan accordingly, because underestimating her again isn’t a risk I can afford.
Venny’s life depends on it.
End of Part Three