Page 56 of Keep You Close

“She’d passed that spring.” It was the only outing I’d had, aside from taking out Samson.

The last of my family was in that coffin. And any safe space I may have been able to run to if or when I got away.

So I was completely on my own.

Well, aside from Samson.

And thank God for him.

He made the cold weather sleeping in the car tolerable. We curled up under the comforter and chased off the chill as I tried to figure out what the hell I could do, how I could get a job without a home.

Eventually, I started working little odd jobs. The kind of things where people paid cash, and I didn’t have to worry about filling employment forms. Dog walking, snow shoveling, weeding. Until, little by little, I was able to afford more than just food and gas, and got us a short-term renting situation.

Once I had that, getting an actual on-the-books job was easier.

“I thought everything was on track,” I told Atlas. “Until Joss showed up at the rental.”

I’d been coming back from the park with Samson. The rental was small and stuffy, a glorified box with a mini kitchen and a bathroom with such an awkward setup that I couldn’t completely close the door thanks to the sink cabinet. And the neighbors on both sides were loud enough to set my nerves on edge, so we spent as much time as possible out of our room.

I thank God that we’d been in the car when I was pulling into the lot.

A quick K-turn allowed me to get out of there, parking down a side street, my heart racing, panic gripping my system.

I sat there for seven hours until, finally, his car pulled down the street.

After waiting another half an hour, just in case, I rushed back to the rental, emptying everything back out of it, stuffing it into my car, and leaving it behind.

I thought something as simple as a new rental would help.

Until, one day, he showed up at my work.

And, unfortunately, that time, I hadn’t been able to avoid him. He’d grabbed my arm and pulled me outside with him, telling me he missed me, he was sorry, it would never happen again.

“You didn’t go back, did you?”

“No. Because the whole time he was making assurances to me, his hand was crushing my upper arm.”

“What’d you do?”

“I told him I would grab my things, then meet him out front. Then I slipped out the back, rushed out of there, got my stuff and Samson, and headed out of town.”

“To Navesink Bank?” Atlas asked.

“No. Unfortunately, he found me six more times across four states.”

“How?”

“Yeah, that was the problem,” I admitted. “I didn’t understand how it was happening, so there was no way to prevent it.

“Somehow, I hadn’t put the pieces together about Joss being into computers, and the fact that he was able to trace me wherever I went.”

“Was it through your phone?”

“That’s what I concluded the first time. I wasn’t on his plan, but I’d opened a new one for work purposes. I guess he figured out how to trace that. So I started using a burner.”

The second and third times, I’d concluded it was something to do with the rentals I was using, which were set up through a major website that, I guess, could be hacked.

The fourth time, I decided it was maybe the job I’d been working at a chain store.

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