Page 40 of Ruthless Regret

It’s all in your head.

I keep telling myself that, even though it doesn’t stop the way my stomach churns uneasily. I quicken my pace. The closest phone store is only a few blocks away. It’s daylight. Nothing is going to happen. But every few steps I feel it.

A prickling up my spine. The sense of someone watching.

It’s nothing.

I scan the crowd again, but no one stands out. No one is looking in my direction.

And yet, the feeling won’t go away. I shove it down, and keep walking. One block, then another. With every step, I try to convince myself that I’m overreacting. I’m just being paranoid. It’s to be expected after yesterday’s events.

I can’t shake it though, and by the time I reach the store I’m almost jogging. Stepping inside, the change in noise is almost a relief. The quiet hum of air conditioners, and the murmured conversations going on is worlds away from the noise on the street outside. I take a breath, then walk to the counter.

The sales assistant greets me with a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

“I need a new phone.” My voice is surprisingly steady.

He nods, already moving toward one of the displays. “What kind are you looking for?”

“Anything. Something basic. It doesn’t need crazy features.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. After a second or two, he selects three phones and brings them over to me. I can’t focus on his explanation of features and prices. But I think I nod at the right moments. My mind is still outside, wondering if I’m really imagining things.

It’s nothing. It’s all in your head.

But what if it isn’t?

The assistant’s voice comes to me, sounding irritable. “So, which one?”

I point at one at random. I don’t really care which one he gives me. All I need it to do is make calls. He packages it up, voice droning on with instructions on how to set it up. Once I’ve paid, I take the bag and head for the door. As soon as I step outside, that crazy feeling crashes over me again.

The sense of being watched.Followed.

My gaze darts around, searching for anything that seems out of place. Nothing stands out. People walk past, some talking on phones, some with their heads down. Cars, buses, horns blaring, drivers yelling. It’s all as it should be.

Except … maybe it’s not.

Is someone lingering on the corner across the street? They’re too far away to make out clearly, but they’re just standing there. Are they looking in my direction?

My heart slams against my ribs, a chill creeping down my spine.

Is it a coincidence? Am I imagining it?

I blink and the figure turns, blending back into the flow of people.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, my breath coming faster than it should.

It’s nothing.

But is it?

I force myself to take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around the bag in my hand like it’s some kind of anchor … or a weapon I can use if someone tries to invade my space.

My mind is playing tricks on me, that’s all. A leftover sense of paranoia after the past five days.

I’m in New York. In broad daylight. There’s absolutely no reason why anyone would be following me. No reason for me to panic like this.

The world around me goes on as usual. People rush past, unaware of my thoughts, and my pulse slowly begins to settle, though my gaze keeps returning to the street corner.

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