Page 27 of Vengeful Secret

The hustle and bustle of the pre-school is just like always, and I lose sight of the blue sedan, but I don’t lose that weird feeling that makes my hair stand up at the back of my neck and on my forearms.

Two days pass,and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Ciara is having a sleepover with a friend, so I took the afternoon to do some window-shopping and just trying to unwind instead of going by my mom’s to pick Ciara up like usual.

It’s a change in my routine, so I should be safe. Besides, if Iambeing followed, they won’t be able to know every one of my turns.

I still think maybe I’m going crazy, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

When time comes to go home, I get in my car and pull out of the parking space.

A car pulls out behind me. This time, it’s a sleek, black sedan, more expensive than the blue one I’d noticed before.

I keep my eyes on the road, only glancing in the rearview mirror here and there, but they take every turn, every exit that I do, their headlights bright. They’re not exactly riding my bumper, but they are pretty close, and I frown as I turn onto my street.

It’s a coincidence, that’s all.

So what if I’ve never seen that car in my neighborhood before. So what if I feel like I’m being watched? I’m just being paranoid.

I pull into my driveway, determined not to look behind me again, but then the headlights of the black sedan wash over me, and I realize they’ve parked against the street.

My heart starts to race as I grab my bags from the passenger side seat and slam my door just as someone gets out of the black car.

They start to walk up behind me and, my heart slamming against my breast plate, I run to the door, fumbling with my keys before rushing into the house and shutting the door behind me, locking both the knob and the deadbolt.

I look through the peephole to see if I can get a good look at whoever has been following me, but all I can see is a broad back as they jog back to the black sedan.

I can’t make out the license plate as they take off.

Trembling, I pull my phone out of my purse.

What if Ciara had been with me? She would have slowed me down just enough that they’d have gotten us. I was right about being watched, being followed.

I call 911, and the dispatcher seems bored as she tells me she’ll send a unit out to my house. I stand at the doorway, my muscles stiff, shaking, until the cop arrives.

He looks bored, too, and when he jots down what little information I have, I bite my lip.

“What happens now?”

He sighs. “Probably not much. My name is Detective Sanderson.” He hands me a business card. “If you’re followed again, call me. But this is probably just a misunderstanding.”

I set my jaw and take his card, knowing that the police are likely going to do nothing.

I put the card in my back pocket.

Detective Sanderson turns back toward me just as he’s begun to walk away.

“Miss?”

I lift my head to acknowledge him.

“I’ll try to get someone out here to patrol. No promises, though.”

I smile, grateful for at least that.

But even if there is a police car driving by here, that doesn’t mean that whoever is after me will stop.

I feel dejected and scared, and there’s only one person I want to talk to.

Because the more I think about it, the more I realize that this can’t just be an isolated incident. The only person who’s going to understand that is Gray Burke.

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