Chapter 36
Gray
“How much did you lose that night at poker anyway?” I ask Celena as I head down the aisle of the grocery store just under a week later with my Bluetooth earbuds in. I’ve been craving peanut butter since my mother mentioned it weeks ago, but I keep forgetting to buy it.
Celena and I have texted as usual, but this is the first time we’ve talked since the gala. I think she’s been avoiding me, and she was dodging my questions over text about what happened in the poker game with Kingston. She can’t put me off any longer, though.
“I only lost twelve hundred,” she says, “but money isn’t the issue.”
Only twelve hundred. I would’ve been having heart palpitations if I’d lost that much, but gamblers measure money differently.
“The more important thing I lost was my dignity,” Celena goes on.
I stop walking. “What the hell happened in that game?”
“I’ll tell you soon. Just not today,” she says. “I still need some time to recover from my humiliation. He played me, Gray. He card-sharked me.”
I think back to how Celena had been winning by a lot against Kingston when the dealer asked us to leave. Something had obviously changed after that.
“He started playing better when we left,” I guess as I push my cart up to the peanut butter and grab a jar of the store’s generic brand.
“The next hand, he took me for three hundred dollars,” she says. “He was watching me the whole time, losing on purpose, learning my tells.”
“Oh, Celena. And you didn’t stop when you figured that out?”
“What part of ‘gambling problem’ is unclear to you?” she snaps.
She makes a noise of disgust that I know is self-directed.
“He tried to give me his room key again after the game,” she goes on. “Told me I could come up and collect back what I lost.”
“I hope you shoved it up his ass,” I say. I haven’t moved on down the aisle yet, and now I’m contemplating marshmallow fluff to go with my peanut butter.
No, no fluff. I start walking again. Seeing Ash’s incredible body all the time has made me more health conscious as I consider the things he has to do to keep fit.
He may like my body the way it is, but sleeping with him has inspired me to get more in shape.
Not necessarily thinner, but stronger. I need to ask him to help me with some strength training, since I feel so weak next to him.
Maybe I’ll also get back into cardio kickboxing.
I did that a couple years ago, and it was both fun and therapeutic.
Celena’s voice brings me back from mentally planning my new health and exercise routine.
“No, I took the card,” she says, “and I gave it to some puck bunnies on my way out.”
I stop dead again. It’s going to take me forever to finish my shopping this way.
“You what?” I ask.
“There were some women hanging around outside the ballroom,” she says. “I assumed they were those puck bunnies, right? So I asked them if they were interested in spending a night with the Hydra’s goalie. They were, so I gave them the card and told them to go wait up in his room.”
My mouth hangs open. “You didn’t.”
“I most certainly fucking did,” she says. “Not all of them went, but two of them were more than eager to go. I hope he had fun with them.”
She spits the last part out with more than a little venom.
I’m about to say something else when I catch sight of a familiar face. There’s a man at the end of the aisle I just turned down, and I can’t place him at first. He glances my way, and our eyes meet. He puts the can he’s examining down and leaves the aisle, and that’s when it hits me.
“What the fuck?” I say unconsciously.
“Gray? You okay? What’s up?” Celena asks in my ear.
“I just saw a guy who was at my conference in Florida,” I tell her.
Specifically, I remember seeing him in the hall after my presentation when I was texting Ash about the new dick pic he sent me. The man was texting on his phone as well.
“I saw him a few times at the convention center. I figured he was just interested in the same panels and presentations I was, but now he’s here.”
“Could he be from Connecticut, and it’s just a coincidence he shops where you shop?” she asks unconvincingly.
I consider this until something else hits me. “He didn’t have a shopping basket or a cart,” I say. “He either only came in to get one item, or he’s not actually shopping.”
“What the fuck?” Celena says.
I wheel my cart around and head in the direction I saw the man go. I hurry across the back of the store, looking down each aisle as I pass it.
“Gray, what are you doing?” Celena asks.
“Looking for the man. I’m going to introduce myself.”
“Gray, honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says. “There are a lot of crazies out there. I’m not sure you should confront one of them.”
“I want him to know I’m on to him if he really is following me.”
“No, absolutely not,” Celena says. “Gray, stand down, girl. Abort!”
I ignore her and continue to head past the aisles until I get to the end of the store.
The guy isn’t there, so I head down the last aisle toward the front and start my search over.
I also check the register lines, but the man didn’t have any groceries in his hands, so there would be no reason for him to check out.
Celena is in my ear the whole time, trying to talk me out of facing him.
I get to the other end of the store, but there’s no sign of the man.
“He’s gone,” I say, cutting off her monologue about stranger danger. “He must have slipped out when I made him.”
“When you made him?” she says. “Sweety, this is not some buddy-cop show. It’s time to take it down a notch. If you think he’s following you, call the real police.”
“No, not yet,” I say. “Like you suggested, maybe he just lives in Connecticut and happens to shop at the same store I do. I need proof I’m being followed. I already overreacted once, and it was humiliating.”
Celena stays on with me while I do the rest of my grocery shopping and check out. When I leave, I scan the parking lot to see if I spot the guy sitting in a car waiting for me, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Can you look up ‘How to spot a tail while driving’?” I ask Celena as I put my groceries in the car.
“Excuse me?” she asks.
“I don’t see the guy in the parking lot, but I want to be sure no one’s following me home,” I tell her. “Just look it up, please.”
“You’re probably going to get some BS that Google pulled from half a dozen Hollywood movies,” she says.
“Yeah, but they have police consultants on those movies, right?”
I hear her sigh, and there’s a pause as she looks up the info.
“It’s what you’d expect,” she says. “Just keep an eye out for a vehicle that stays behind you, although not necessarily directly behind you. Watch a few cars back and look for someone who turns every time you do.”
I knew most of that already.
“Ooo, here’s a useful trick,” she says. “If you’re on a highway, you should exit, then immediately get back on in the opposite direction.”
“I’m not on the highway. I’m at the grocery store.”
I finish putting my bags in the car, then wait in the driver’s seat with the car on. The car’s Bluetooth picks up the call, so I pull my earbuds out.
“So get on the highway, go up one exit, get off, then immediately get back on,” she says. “Isn’t there an entrance ramp to the highway right near the store?”
“There is. Good idea.”
“Shit, wait,” she says. “Why am I encouraging this?”
“Because you’re a good friend, and you want me to be prepared in case I’m actually being stalked,” I say as I put the car in gear and back up.
Celena sighs heavily on the other end. “Fine. Just keep talking to me until you get home so I know you’re safe.”
“Wait, should I even go home?” I ask. “If I am being followed, I don’t want to lead the stalker to where I live, right?”
Celena sighs again. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but if you do have a stalker, he probably already knows where you live. Chances are the guy left the store and just went straight to your house to wait for you.”
My stomach bottoms out. “Holy shit. What do I do?”
“Do you want me to meet you at your house?” she asks. “I can go in with you to be sure it’s safe.”
“So we can both be killed?” I say, trying to quell my hysteria.
“Gray, you have groceries getting warm in your car. You have to go home eventually. Last time it was a false alarm, and I’m sure it is this time too. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll check together.”
“Do you have time?” I ask as I pull out of the parking lot and head for the highway. I’m going to do the off-then-on-again thing anyway, even if it’s pointless.
“I can take a break,” she says.
Celena owns a ceramics studio downtown that offers both paint-your-own pottery for the general public who want a taste of art, as well as classes and memberships for the more serious crowd who want to throw their own pottery on a wheel.
She herself has a home studio where she does her work, which sells pretty well in certain circles.
I have a number of her pieces that she’s given me or that I’ve insisted on buying from her over the years. She’s incredibly talented.
“I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working on something important,” I say.
“Just go home, and I’ll meet you there,” she says.
I pull into my driveway ten minutes later, and it doesn’t look like anyone followed me home. In any case, I didn’t see anyone get off the highway with me and then get right back on when I did.
I wait in my car in the garage for Celena. She doesn’t live too far away, so she should be here soon. We hung up with each other so I could concentrate on watching for tails.
I want to text Ash, but he’s at practice, then he needs to rest to prepare for a quick trip to Florida tomorrow.
He wanted me to come over tonight, but we always stay up way too late when we’re together, and as much as I want to have sex, I can’t be selfish.
Kaladin is already suspicious of us, and if he finds out I’m keeping one of his star players from getting his rest, there will be consequences.
We still haven’t done anything in Ash’s bedroom. He either comes to my place, or if we go to his, we’ve had sex pretty much everywhere but the bedroom. He seems to have this fear that if he takes me in there, I’ll run screaming.
We need to break through this barrier, so I’ll have to come up with a strategy for when he gets back.
Celena’s car pulls into the driveway, and we both get out.
“Thanks for – Jesus Christ, Celena!” I say to her as I see the small pistol in her hand. “Why did you bring that?”
She looks at me incredulously. “What do you mean why did I bring it? We’re about to search your house for stalkers, right?”
Celena and I have never seen eye to eye on guns.
I hate them, but a small part of me understands why she has one.
Celena is a beautiful but tiny woman who lives alone.
I get her desire to have protection, even if I think she’s just going to end up accidentally shooting her housekeeper one of these days.
“Isn’t it illegal to drive with that?” I ask.
“I had it in the lock box,” she says.
I sigh and head toward the front door. I’ll leave the groceries in the car until I know the coast is clear. I did a quick scan of the neighborhood earlier, but I didn’t see any unusual cars parked anywhere.
“You go first, John Wick,” I say, opening the door.
Celena goes to the firing range, but I still don’t trust her behind me with a gun.
Celena and I enter the house. I feel like I should call out to see if my mother is there delivering another bottle of wine, but I don’t. Instead, I grab a knife from the kitchen, the same one as before, and Celena and I go room by room to check the house.
We find no one there, and my body relaxes once we’ve cleared everything, including the basement and attic.
I need to get myself under control. I’m not sure why I’m convinced I’m being stalked, but I can’t live like this.
“All clear,” Celena says. “Are you going to be okay here alone?”
I let out a breath and head for the car to get my groceries. She follows.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Apparently I’m just paranoid.”
Celena grabs a couple bags and helps me schlep them into the house.
“It’s completely understandable,” she says. “Warranted or not, you had a scare a little while ago, and it’s going to take some time to get past that.” She pauses. “Maybe you should consider-”
“I’m not getting a gun,” I say, cutting her off.
She shrugs. “Fine. How about a dog?”
“I don’t want a pet,” I say. “I don’t want to worry about coming home early to let a dog out or spending money to board one when I have to travel to an academic conference.”
She nods. “Fair enough, but then you have to find a way to relax and not let your imagination run wild. You’ll give yourself an ulcer.”
I hug Celena and thank her for coming over before I head back inside to put away my groceries.
I put away the perishables first, then grab my peanut butter. I go to shelve it but jerk to a halt and drop the jar as I’m confronted with my seventy-eight-year-old neighbor walking around his living room in his underwear.
The shade to my kitchen window is up again.