ALL MY SENSES are on full alert, and I’m really not sure why. Looking in my rearview mirror for the twentieth time in two minutes, I make sure no one is following me. I get so annoyed when crap like this happens to me, because really, who has time to be so paranoid? For at least the last decade, a few times a year I get a feeling I’m being watched or followed.
I get all sketched out about it but I’ve never seen anyone and nothing has ever happened, so I know it’s just some crazy bullshit I do subconsciously to psyche myself out. Unfortunately, this time it’s lasted longer than usual. Normally, I might have the feeling for a few hours, but this has been going on for a week.
When I arrive home I run up the walk to my apartment like the hounds of hell are on my heels. I curse every one of the damn locks that I have on my door as I fumble with each one before getting inside and slamming the door shut behind me. My breath is coming in gasps and my hands are shaking. I’m so freaked out I consider calling Dillon or Minnie to come hang out with me, but it seems like a shitty thing to do considering the fact they’re suddenly spending all of their time together. I know they’re finally working shit out and I don’t want to disrupt that in any way, shape, or form.
Telling myself I’m suffering from nothing more than an anxiety attack, I go about my exciting nightly routine of eating a Lean Cuisine and drinking a glass of milk. Wild, I know. I want to read something but haven’t had time to stop at the bookstore, which means that I am shit out of luck. After scrolling through my Netflix cue I decide to watch a few episodes of Sons of Anarchy. I get two episodes in before I take a break.
On my way back to the sofa after going to the bathroom and getting a bottle of Vitamin Water, I notice my house phone message light is blinking. I don’t normally check it because everyone, and I do mean everyone, knows to call me on my cell. I use my landline so infrequently I’ve been toying with the idea of having it disconnected, but when I said as much to my brother he acted like I was telling him I planned to sleep naked on the front lawn every night.
I’m surprised to see that in addition to the light blinking, the numeric display indicates I have forty-two messages. Granted, I don’t check them often, but this seems unbelievable. Hitting play on the phone, I let out a low sound of distress when the first message starts playing. The voice sounds terribly distorted and all the person says over and over again is that I am a filthy whore and a lying, stealing, fucking bitch. I quickly find out it’s the same thing with all forty-two of the messages.
I’m scared shitless and I don’t know what the hell to do. The messages in combination with my feeling like I was being followed earlier are terrifying. I would typically call Dillon but I just can’t bring myself to do that right now. Finally, it occurs to me I have three other brothers I can turn to, and immediately Spencer comes to mind. I don’t even have time to ask him to come over—as soon as I start explaining, he tells me he’s on his way.
As soon as Spencer gets to my house and listens to a few of the messages, he asks for my permission to call his friend Mike, the head of security at Hart. I’m not thrilled the guy’s name is Mike, but if Spencer trusts him, I have no choice.
About an hour later, Mike is in my house listening to the messages as well. Naturally the calls had been blocked which doesn’t give Mike a lot to go with, but he listens carefully when I tell him I really feel that I am being followed lately. He makes some suggestions and then he and Spencer talk about a course of action, including the possibility of tapping my line if anything else happens.
I am beyond touched when Spencer insists that I go home with him for the night. No amount of me swearing I’m fine dissuades him, and I end up packing an overnight bag with a smile on my face. Dillon and Spencer might not have been raised together but my God do they have similar personalities.
The feeling of being watched comes and goes at odd times. Spencer has Mike looking into it, but nothing else is happening. I had to tell Spencer, and Mike, about my rape and the man responsible for it, because he was the only person I know of who would believe he had reason to hate me. I try not to think about Michael at all, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to I until he was eligible for parole. Since I didn’t keep track of him, I was stunned when Mike found out that he’d died in jail almost a year ago, beaten to death in a prison riot. I’m not going to lie—it didn’t upset me at all to know he died. He deserved every second of panic a beating would have given him and I hoped it was painful.
I want to tell Dillon but know it will open a whole can of worms about how I found out, so I stayed silent. Since Michael was ruled out I’ve gone over things in my mind again and again but always come up with a blank because there is no one who would want to hurt me. Put bluntly, I’m boring. I haven’t had sex in years, I almost never go to bars, and I can’t think of one person who would call me a slut. The only person I can think of who dislikes me even a little bit is Minnie’s ex-girlfriend Tally, but in order to tell Spencer I would have to explain how I know her. Minnie isn’t ready to come clean, so I’m not going to blow her cover.
As a possible explanation for all of the craziness that has gone on lately, having it come out that Tally is Marissa’s younger sister is the very last thing I could have expected. Tally and Marceline Cross—aka my biological mother from hell—kidnapped Dominique and Delilah. When the girls were finally found at Tally’s house, Marceline was in the process of choking Minnie to death. Todd had no choice but to shoot Marceline, which ended her reign of terror. Unfortunately, Tally wasn’t in the house at the time everything went down and no one knows where the hell she is now.
Finding out Tally got involved with Marceline because she blames Dillon and me for Marissa being in foster-care is like a kick in the gut. Marissa’s stepfather, Tally’s dad, brutally and repeatedly raped Marissa as a child until she was removed from the home for her own safety. Knowing that Tally blames us, not her father, for the loss of her sister is sickening. Whatever was wrong with Tally’s father is clearly also wrong with her, which is terrifying. Tally and her fucked up family have taken enough from Dillon, Minnie and me. Losing Marissa is a pain we all still feel deeply, and having it brought up in the way it has been feels awful.
The only good thing to come out of it is now everyone knows Dillon and Minnie are a couple—and the three of us have known each other for years. I’m free to call her Minnie and the two of them are free to be together, history be damned.
I think under normal circumstances the revelations might have gone over like a fart in church, but considering what everyone has just gone through emotionally, no one has had anything negative to say. We are all so relieved to have Minnie and Delilah back safe and on the road to recovery, there is no reason to feel odd about it.
I’m anxious for Tally to be found so that this can all be put behind us. Right now everything is chaos and we are all basically hidden under lock and key. There are security guards everywhere, which is really unsettling even though it’s meant to provide comfort. I’m very unhappy because I’m not allowed to go to work. I explained most of the situation to my boss and she has been very sweet in allowing me to take an extended leave of absence, but there is no guarantee my job will be there after six weeks.
Having worked for years to get through school and then to establish myself in my career, it bothers me to no end. I love my job and I love the children I work with. Not being there is almost physically painful for me, and it’s been very hard to stay calm. Rationally, I understand I won’t be destitute or homeless if I lose my job, but spending years in foster care and having nothing made me very conscious of how quickly everything can be lost. My work ethic is ingrained, and I like it that way. All of my brothers have made it a point to tell me I don’t ever have to work again if I don’t want to, but I would never accept that. I like work, and I want to keep doing it. I know I won’t ever have children of my own, but I do love kids, and working with them everyday is a joy.
With Minnie finally getting out of the hospital, I expected things to get a little bit more normal. Instead, we’ve all been called to Dante’s for an emergency meeting. Tally was not wrapped too tight and the investigation has turned up the fact that she’s been following Dillon and me for years. Her intentions aren’t good—not toward any of us—and there is only one solution. Mike says that Dominique, Delilah, Dillon and I all have to go into hiding.
One thing, and one thing only, keeps me from flipping out and having some kind of meltdown. Dillon and Minnie are finally really and truly happy, and I will not do anything to take that away from them. If Dillon is worried about me, he can’t devote himself entirely to Minnie. I agree to go wherever Mike wants me to, but nothing prepares me for where he’s sending me.
My hiding spot is going on tour with the Renegade Saints. They had to cancel their first few LA dates because of what was going on with Dominique and Delilah, but the tour has to go on, and it’s now time to start. Inside I am freaking out, but I acquiesce with no fanfare. My brother needs me to be strong, and I will fake it until I make it because he deserves to be happy without worrying about me. At the end of the meeting, my entire family hug and kiss me goodbye before I get into the back of Flynn’s SUV and hide for the journey home to his house.
I don’t know what the future holds for me. I’m out of my comfort zone, away from my family and best friend—and I am about to be on tour with one of the biggest rock bands in the world.
Oh, and of course, there is the biggest thing of all, I’m about to see Gavin Wilde again.