Page 76 of Tangled Up

“You’d better get out of Eden, Milt. My brother owns this town, and he’ll come for you and hell’s coming with him!”

Milton crashes into a sunglasses display, knocking several shades to the floor before scrambling up and running out the door.

Jessica turns to me, swiping her hands together like she’s some kind of Frito Bandito. “And that is how you handle a stalker.”

We start for the front, but I can’t resist. “You’re an only child.”

“Guess who doesn’t know that?” She flicks invisible lint off her shoulder. “Your vertically challenged stalker.”

“You lied to poor Milton.”

“Poor Milton, as you call him is a skeevy perv who tracked you down to Eden and tried to force you into going out with him based on a pushy maneuver I’m still not sure I like.”

“He sent drinks to our table,” I clarify.

“Exactly.”

The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to get creeped out by the whole thing. “How do you think he found me?”

“Simple.” Jessica shrugs as she lifts the items out of her basket and places them on the black belt. “He looked you up on the Internet and found your exact location.”

“Is it that easy to do?” I look over my shoulder, around the tiny supermarket.

It’s dusty and looks like something out of a horror movie, with aisles stretching to the ceiling and old people wheeling shopping carts around.

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to find somebody.” Jessica waits with her debit card as the clerk finishes swiping and bagging our goods. “Did you put your address on your profile?”

“I don’t think so… But if I did, I’d have put my Pensacola address.” The back of my neck starts to crawl.

“One thing I know for sure. These days, if someone wants to find you, they can find you. Nobody’s anonymous anymore.”

We walk out to the car, and I feel like a noose tightens around my neck. It only takes a minute for Jessica to realize what she’s said.

“Oh, shit, Carls. Are you worried about your psycho killer?”

“Jessica!” My voice goes louder than it should. “I’ve told you a million times, she’s not a psycho killer. She simply went off her meds.”

My friend presses her lips together and nods. “Right. You’re right. She’s bipolar.”

“Which is not a violent illness.” I growl in frustration. “It can exhibit violence, but it’s not homicidal. She’s not going to hurt me.”

“Well, that’s all I care about.”

We walk out to Jessica’s car to put the groceries in the trunk the one time she decides to drive it. Despite my firm declarations, I’m not feeling so secure. She drops me off at Aunt Viv’s, and I take the two small bags of items I was requested to purchase.

“Carly?” My aunt calls from the living room, where she’s in her power chair watching her evening shows.

“It’s me, Aunt Viv.” I put the bags on the counter and quickly store the eggs and half and half in the refrigerator before walking over to where she’s sitting to kiss her head. “Feeling okay?”

“I feel better than I’ve felt in months. It’s like this year is turning around for the good since I fell.”

“Well, don’t make a habit of it.” My phone buzzes, and I lift it out of my pocket, smiling when I see Beck’s number on the screen. “I’m just going to my room.”

“We should work out a signal for when you’ve got a boy in the house. Or when you’re sending texts to boys,” she calls after me. “Just so I don’t see something you don’t want me to see.”

“How about, if my door’s closed, don’t open it until I say come in?” I’m only being partially sarcastic, and she laughs as I shut the door.

Shaking my head, I jump onto my bed, grinning widely as I read his text.At my place in Tampa. Thought about you the whole drive.

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