Page 39 of Yolo

Relief that he was there was overwhelming.

“Come on,” I said to the dog. “Let’s go for a walk.”

For some reason, everything inside of me told me not to go straight to my apartment.

Instead, I walked around the side of the building and said, “Let’s go to our usual spot, okay, Rooster?”

Rooster woofed in agreement, and we started walking.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that the man had followed.

He may not have said anything, but I knew he was there.

We walked for maybe half an hour when my Spidey senses got even worse and told me that I was not safe where I was.

That’s when I remembered my mom.

“Mom?” I asked.

Nothing.

I pressed the button and said, “Siri, call Mom.”

Nothing.

What the hell?

I tapped and tapped on my phone screen, wondering what the hell was wrong with it.

Was it dead?

No, it couldn’t be. I’d literally just charged it an hour ago.

“Mom?” I said again. “If you can hear me, call me back.”

Maybe she was still there. Maybe I’d somehow muted it. Maybe…

“Need help?”

That same silky smooth voice.

My heart started to pound.

Picking up on my discomfort, Rooster placed himself between me and the man.

“Um, no. I got it. Thanks,” I said. “Let’s go home, Rooster.”

Rooster tugged me a little harder than he normally would, causing my belly to flip in surprise.

We walked quickly, and I was thankful for the umpteenth time that I had Rooster with me.

I was very aware, however, that I was not alone in my walk back to the apartment complex.

I got into the lobby, and instead of taking the elevator where I knew he’d get on with me, I took the stairs.

He’d, of course, followed me.

I felt my heart beating so hard that it was making me dizzy.

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