Spring [Completed]

THIRTY-FIVE

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HIM

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"A single lie discovered is enough to create doubt in every truth expressed."

—Unknown

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I'm being followed.

At first I thought it was just paranoia. I just got off a 12 hour shift and I figured it was just the lack of sleep, but I passed my apartment complex ages ago, just making random turns, and this grey Ford keeps following me.

The rain's coming down hard, and my windshield wipers work in overdrive as I turn into the nearest gas station. Wet gravel crunches under my tires as I pull over next to a curb and park. I turn my hazard lights on and wait for my skulker to follow.

Whoever it is, needs to cut to the chase or stop wasting my time. I'm too exhausted to play these games.

Sure enough, the truck follows, turning moments after me into the dimly lit parking lot.

Growing anxious, I open my glove compartment and pull out my pistol, feeling thankful that I'd just renewed my concealed carry permit.

The metal is cold beneath my fingertips as I hold it, getting used to the weight of the gun in my hand.

I never really liked guns. I'd much rather a good fist fight, but in my line of work, my hands are my career. Besides, you never know what your opponent is bringing to the table. It's good to be prepared.

I try to calm my nerves as I stuff the gun in the waistband of my jeans. Leaning against my steering wheel, I crane my neck to watch the grey truck.

It lurks around the empty parking lot, taunting me, before it passes me entirely, making a quick U-turn before coming to a stop in front of me. With it's bumper only inches from mine, I can make out the silhouette of a man, but not much else.

I squint my eyes in the darkness, breathing heavily as I wait for the person to make a move. Thunder crackles overhead at the same moment that the trucks lights turn on, revealing my stalker.

I scoff. He can't be serious...

Imani's husband glares at me with angry hazel eyes, narrowing them slightly at my amusement. I cross my arms over my chest and mimic his hardened gaze. I can't help the smile that comes to my lips as I think about how much I'm going to enjoy this.

I've been itching to whoop his ass for months.

Imani's husband, Josh if I recall correctly, steps out of his car and into the rain. He's wearing dress clothes, like he's just gotten off of work, but as he walks through the beams of my headlights, he looks off... It's not until he stumbles a bit and slams the door shut that I see it. He's drunk.

I turn off my truck and step out as well. The cold rain wastes no time, soaking my hair and clothes. I squint, closing my door as he stands beside his truck.

"What are you doing, man?" I ask, watching him closely as he balls his fists at his sides.

"Where is she?" His voice is a low rumble.