Page 59 of My Turn

“Sorry,” he said, looking abashed.

“It’s fine.” Turning back to the machine, I quickly scanned the rest of the items. After I paid, I offered him a smile and hurried to the parking lot. I moved my foot underneath the back and the trunk opened.

I was aware that he’d followed me, but I hoped he would get the hint and leave. He should have gotten the hint when I left that date so abruptly. He was either stupid or one ofthosemen. I feared it was the latter.

“Let me help you with those,” he offered, reaching for the bags.

I took a step to the side. “I’m okay, thanks.”

“Just trying to be nice, Lana.”

“We don’t have nicknames, Preston. Look, I just need to get home, okay?”

His jaw clenched before he moved closer. “Are you free this weekend? I can get reservations for dinner.”

Oh, lord have fucking mercy.

“No, sorry.”

“Wow. I didn’t take you for one of those kinds of girls.”

With a tight-lipped smile, I closed the trunk. “I’m sorry for whatever you think about me.”

When I rounded the car, he latched onto my wrist. I shook him off with a glare. He held his hands up placatingly and took a step back.

“I’m just trying to talk to you,” he said. “You left in the middle of our date and said you’d call, but you didn’t. That’s a juvenile move.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I remained silent. Sure, it wasn’t my best moment, but I wasn’t beating myself up over it either.

“Don’t you think that’s fucked up?” he went on.

“It doesn’t give you the right to harass me in the parking lot.”

“Harass? Of course you’d say something like that. This is why I don’t usually date widows. You’re so self-absorbed and expect everyone to cater to your every need.”

“That’s uncalled for. You need to leave.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good luck in your dating life,Alana. Hopefully you offer something better than your personality.”

“Are you a fucking child?” I shouted, throwing my arms in the air. “Who talks to someone like this?”

He walked away, leaving me there alone with what I imagined was smoke coming out of my ears. With the anger came tears. Not wanting the family unloading from their mini van to see me cry, I got in the car and slammed the door.

Preston’s words would have rolled right off of me not too long ago. I was confident enough and happy for the most part. After a year of depression and grief combined with the betrayal and fear I’d suffered recently, the words hit me so deeply that it felt like I’d actually been struck.

My tears had just started to fall rapidly when it felt like someone was watching me. With my skin prickling and my senses on high alert, I glanced through every window, but there was nobody around except for a few people heading into the store.

Not interested in lingering, I started the car and headed toward home. It wasn’t safe there either and it didn’t feel like there was anything I could do about it. After thinking about it for a moment, I went in the opposite direction. I refused to be some statistic- a woman killed by her stalker.

If I could, I would buy a gun, but the state required a license for it and from what I’d heard, it could take forever. A knife might do just as well in this case. I knew he’d be close enough to stab when he came for me again.

Chapter 23

Jayce

A few weeks ago, I claimed that I wasn’t a murderer. With a few exceptions, of course. Well, apparently that wasn’t my final form.

As I paced the length of my basement, I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. There were too many goddamn things going on in my head. Part of me screamed to go check on Alana and comfort her. Another part begged to be released upon her like a demon freed to wreak havoc on the world. A very loud part of me was committed to getting rid of the trash I had down here.