Page 98 of Denial
“Someone is after you,” he says, moving his face closer to mine, his tone urgent.
I flatten my head against the rear driver’s-side window of the car. “Yeah, asshole. You are.”
“Someone else.” His hand shakes as he adjusts his glasses. The sunlight glints off the corner, where a small white light is illuminated.
“Are you recording me?”
“It’s for the show,” he replies with an unsettling nonchalance, as if it’s perfectly normal for a stranger to record someone without their consent. The casualness of his response makes my stomach clench, a wave of unease washing over me.
Trying to distance myself, I shove hard against my shopping cart. The wheels squeak as I push. “Please, just leave me alone.”
He moves back a few inches, only to slam the cart against my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs.
I gasp, feeling the panic rise.
“You have to listen to me,” he persists.
“No, I don’t.”
“Come to my hotel room, and I’ll show you.”
Instantly, I recoil. Not a fucking chance. I know what happens when you go to a second location. This guy is out of his fucking mind.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. I just want you to tell your side of the story. I know you had a hand in your brother’s arrest. Your own mother was sent to jail because of you,” he tries to reason.
My eyes track to the steady white light on his glasses, knowing his true motive. He’s baiting me into talking so he can use my words on his podcast. I press my lips together, refusing to answer, knowing the consequences of my actions might include some form of harm.
“Hey! What’s going on over there?”
An older woman wearing a white apron appears at the grocery store entrance and marches across the parking lot.
“Shit.” Jake pushes off the cart, leaving me breathless as he runs in the opposite direction.
“Is everything all right?”
“No. Can you help me load my groceries into my car? I need to sit down.” My hands shake uncontrollably. It takes three tries to find my keys in my purse and hit the fob. I reach behind me, opening the back door, and drop heavily onto the seat.
Her expression fills with concern. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “Just shaken.”
“Do you know that man?” She stares over the roof of my car in the direction Jake took off.
“No. Not really. I should—I should call someone.”
“Want me to call the police for you, honey?”
I’m already dragging my phone out from my crossbody. “I can do it. I know someone who can help.”
My knee bounces chaotically as I pull up my text thread with Sutton. His unread message forgotten as I drop a pin to my location and shakily type.
Me:
Nellie is fine. She’s safe with Whitney. But I need you
My cell comesto life in my hand.
Two rings doesn’t give me enough time to steady my voice and slow my racing heart. I blow out a deep breath. I don’t want to scare him. I just need his help. The line connects. He doesn’t even wait for me to say hello.
