Page 83 of Exposed

You’d think it’d be easy to make a quick trip to the grocery store.

Nope.

The first grocery store I go to is out of Simon’s formula. As I drive to the second store, I notice a car following me. Unless another person is hitting up multiple grocerystores, Simon and I are being followed by a grey sedan with dark tinted windows.

Turning right three times to drive in a circle, the hair on the back of my neck stands up when the car stays glued to my tail. I need to be somewhere public with lots of people around, so I park as close as I can to the entrance of the second grocery store.

I check that my pepper spray can is tucked into my shorts pocket and take a deep breath. “Okay, Simon, let’s go.” I run with him, not taking a breath until I’m safely in the doors of the grocery store.

Thankfully, this second store has his formula, so I stock up. Simon is cooing happily as I wear him on my chest in his carrier, and I’m not leaving the refuge of this public space.

Looking out the large windows at the front of the store reveals the sedan parked in the back of the lot with the windows rolled up. I can’t go to the police and tell them someone is following me, and there’s no way I’m going home. With my cart stocked with formula, I walk around and stay near other shoppers for safety. Whoever was in the sedan could be in the store now.

I wrap an arm protectively around Simon’s back in the carrier. “I’ll do whatever I need to protect you, Simon.” He looks up at me and happily gurgles as drool dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. “Good boy, little buddy.”

Is the stalker someone from Titan Securities? Surely, they would’ve called the police by now to come and arrest me. Maybe it’s the person who actually framed me, and they’ve found where I’m hiding. They could be here to take me out, and I’ve got Simon with me. My mind runs wildwith possibilities, and my heart is heavy that I’ve got precious, innocent Simon in the middle of this chaos.

I hate to bother Matt at work, and he gave me his dad’s number in case I need anything while he’s working. Dialing Henry’s number, he picks up after the first ring.

“Hey, Pepper. How are you? Everything alright?” He asks.

“Someone is following me,” I whisper as I pass by the bananas on my second loop through the produce section.

“Have you called Matt?” Henry asks.

“No. He’s working.”

“He’ll want to know. You should call him.”

“Yeah, okay,” I take a deep breath, worrying I’ve bothered Henry while he’s in the middle of something.

“Send me the address. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go to the police station. Can you get the license plate number to report?” I hear keys jingle in the background.

He’s dropping what he’s doing to help me? Emotion pulls at my heart that he’s acting like a father to me, more than my real father ever did.

“I have his license plate number, but I can’t go to the police.” My voice trembles as I speak.

“It’s okay, Pepper. We need to know who’s following you,” he urges.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” I reply.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “How about I bring you to one of my gyms. We’ve got a tight check in, and you can come upstairs to my office with Simon while you wait for Matt.”

“I appreciate it,” I say.

“No problem. Glad you called me,” he replies.

This is what it’s like to have a family who cares. I couldget used to the warm, fuzzy feeling settling in my heart. While I wait for Henry, I call Matt.

“What’s up, Pepper?” He asks, and I can hear people talking in the background.

“Someone is following me and Simon,” I confess, embarrassed that I’m in this situation.

“Pepper, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“No. I’m okay.” I can’t help the shakiness in my voice. I rock back and forth and rub Simon’s back, but it’s to calm myself more than him. He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, and I swear his sweet, relaxed expression calms me. Like he’s telling me it’s going to be okay. He yawns and wrinkles his nose, then rests his head against my chest.

“I’m at the grocery store, and your dad is coming to take me to one of his gyms to wait for you,” I explain.

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