Page 49 of Stone Rules

Me: Thanks.

An hour later, I wonder what could possibly be taking so long. I pick up my phone to text Ethan when an email from Gretchen arrives, and suddenly I’m staring at the contact information for Morgan Tenney. Acid burns my throat when I think of what he did to me.

I know there is a journal entry about him. A detailed one that was so vile, I couldn’t even read it in its entirety. My mother obviously wrote it when she was jacked up on something.Didn’t she ever re-read her entries when she was sober and realize what a monster she was?

I don’t dare read it now. I might be tempted to get the gun that is hidden under my extra bed sheets in the linen closet.

The gun that is part of the one secret I didn’t tell Piper. No one knows about the list. No one except Ethan. And he doesn’treallyknow about it.

I enter Tenney’s address into my phone and I conclude it’s not in such a bad part of town. I throw on my requisite hoodie and grab a baseball cap from my closet. Then I head to the subway. I’m so nervous, I get on two wrong trains before I get back on track and end up at the correct station.

For some reason, my skin prickles. It’s been doing it the whole time. Like someone is watching me. I look around, half expecting to see Morgan Tenney, who’s somehow figured out I was out to get him. Suddenly, I’m uneasy about what I’m doing. Maybe I’m not as safe as I think I am. Riding the subway, I take notice of everyone in the car with me. I once read that if you make eye contact with people, you are less likely to be accosted.

One man in the corner has on a baseball hat and sunglasses. Sunglasses—despite the fact that we are mostly underground. A few of the afternoon riders look like students skipping school. There are several young mothers with children in strollers who look like they are heading out to Central Park for the day. Businessmen and women intermingle, and there are a couple of homeless people in baggy clothing and stocking caps.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a few dollars to hand to each of them as I get off at my stop. I remember what it was like to be homeless. No, I never had to sleep on a train to get warm, but there were a few nights I wasn’t sure Piper and I would have a roof over our heads. It came down to strangers lending a hand every time. So even if I can’t afford it—even if I’m down to my last dollar—I’ll always try to help those who are less fortunate. It’s sad to even think about it. What I went through; what Piper endured—there will always be someone else who had it worse.

I walk a few blocks until I find the building I’m looking for. It’s a secure building. One you have to get buzzed into by a resident. I know the drill. I start punching in apartment numbers until someone buzzes me in. Making my way up to the third floor, I hear someone else come through the front door followed by the yelling of several residents out their doors for people to quit fucking punching in numbers. Someone must have done it behind me. I used to live in a building like this for a time. It really does get annoying.

I arrive at apartment 318. I tuck my hair up into the ball cap and roll up the sleeves of my hoodie. I take a few deep breaths before banging on the door, and then I move out of the way of the peephole.

No answer. I bang again.

I think I see movement at the end of the hallway, scaring me half to death, but when I turn my head and stare, I see nothing. Now I’m just imagining things. I knock on the door one last time, this time not bothering to hide my face.

Frustration sets in. All I want to do is get this over with.

I hear a woman’s voice as footsteps climb the stairs. “You shouldn’t be here. Who let you in?”

I freeze. She’s not talking to me, but to someone in the stairwell. My heart pounds. Is it Morgan? Does he know I’m here? Was he waiting for me to leave?

I race to the opposite end of the hall, find another stairway, and almost break my neck descending the two flights of stairs to the ground floor. I race across the street and duck into a coffee shop. I slip into a booth by the window and train my eyes on the two possible exits of the building I just vacated.

Not twenty seconds go by when a man exits. It’s one of the homeless men I gave money to on the train.What?

He looks up and down the street and then pulls a cell phone from his pocket.A cell phone?

He makes a quick call and then removes his cap and fake beard.

Son of a bitch!

I storm out of the coffee shop and run across the street, narrowly escaping the bumper of a yellow cab in my haste to get there.

“What the fuck, Levi? Why are you following me?”

His head falls back in defeat and he looks at the sky, cursing silently.

“Did Ethan tell you to follow me?”

He gives me that look. ThatI-plead-the-fifthlook.

“Shit,” I say, storming off down the street. I hail a cab and am just about inside it when he calls after me.

“Charlie, wait!”

I give him a one-finger message to relay to his boss as my cab passes him by.

I angrily spew out the address to the cabbie and then apologize to him for my crassness before I ask him to please drive faster.

---