What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

by Lexi Buchanan

  We spend the rest of my three-hour shift working on rotation. I’m quite pleased with myself. Bella will love our next lesson when she realizes how much easier it is to jump with a solid torso. Gretchen will want to kiss me when she can rotate with less air and land gracefully.

  “Ladies, my shift is over and I’m wiped. How about you?” Bella is visibly tired, but the smile on her face tells me she doesn’t mind.

  “Thank you. My mom’s waiting for me in the lobby.” She gives me her tiny wave and scampers down the steps as I call out a good-bye.

  “Hey, can you give me a ride home? Casey dropped me off so I don’t have a car.” Gretchen pulls her T-shirt up and wipes her face. The odor of her sweat wafts toward me, and I notice her ripped stomach. It makes me curious what she does to make her abs so defined.

  Our feet step in time down the steps. “Sure, but you have to share your secret first.”

  “Secret?” She tilts her head and flashes a sideways look. “Which one?”

  I smile. “Your abs. What’s your trick?”

  “Oh. I do a series of core exercises.” She snorts. “If Casey is normal, then I eat a lot cleaner than most people. But mostly it’s hereditary. I’m just naturally more muscular than most girls.”

  “Darn it. I hoped you suffered greatly for them.” I poke her in the stomach before we push our way out of the gym. The metal panic bar clangs, and we enter the lobby on our way to the locker room.

  “You’re such a great friend. Break your finger on my abs of steel?” She steps out of my way before I can poke again.

  Gretchen stops laughing and turns to look behind us. We have just left the lobby area. When she turns back she hugs herself.

  My scalp prickles. I know that behavior. In a small voice I ask. “What’s up?”

  Gretchen shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s the freakiest thing. It’s like some guy’s following me. I don’t even know what made me notice him, but he makes me uncomfortable.”

  “If your gut tells you something is up, listen. Where have you seen him?” Fear brews in my belly.

  “Yesterday when you taught Bella, I snowboarded with Kaleb before lineup. He was outside the Peak 8 locker room when I was waiting for Kaleb. He was there again when we finished. Something about this guy creeps me out. Then when Casey dropped me off tonight, I thought I saw him again.”

  Oh man. “Whatever you do, trust your instincts. If you ever think you’re unsafe, do what you have to do to get out of danger.”

  Gretchen squints her eyes at me. “You don’t think I’m just being paranoid?”

  I shake my head as a flowery scent from the ladies’ locker room surrounds us. A vision of preteens spraying body mist comes to mind. “Maybe, but wouldn’t you rather look like a freak than be attacked by some psycho?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She sits down on the bench as I work on opening my locker. The metal behind her thuds when she leans back.

  When I open the door, a brochure flutters to the floor. I pick it up and recognize a girl I knew from competition on the cover. It’s for an Olympic training camp. My brow furrows as I open it and search for a note or a clue to why someone wanted me to see it. “This is weird.”

  “Olympic training camp? Maybe someone thinks you should coach there?” Gretchen takes it out of my hands as I gather my things.

  Unease settles over me. “Hey, I’m not ready to go home yet. Want to go get a coffee or maybe some dessert to camouflage your abs of steel?” I joke. But what I think is I don’t want to be alone.

  “Sure. The Baked Bean?”

  “Sounds good.” Kaleb is working tonight, and we don’t have plans to be together. If nothing else, I can use my observational skills to check out Gretchen’s weirdo. Or, maybe… it’s something more.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I park in front of a log building. Big glass windows have a steaming coffee cup logo painted on them. The Baked Bean is a reference to the feel-good drug that has never been on my agenda. Even though the theme isn’t what I’m used to, the coffee and food are fabulous.

  I scan the area as I parallel park my truck. I think maybe I shouldn’t have let my guard down, but seeing nothing out of sorts, I search my ashtray for change.

  As the coins jingle, Gretchen says, “Let me do that.” She grabs the quarters from my hand and gets out to feed the parking meter. Because she is focused on the task, I look more thoroughly. As I lock my truck, I’m satisfied her stranger isn’t around unless he’s good at this. Great. I didn’t need to go there.

  When we enter, the smell of baked bread overpowers bitter coffee.

  “Yum. They must be making fresh bagels for tomorrow.” Gretchen closes her eyes as she inhales the odor.

  “Do you want to split a dessert?” We’ve stopped in front of the bakery case, and I eye the selection of chocolate.

  “No, I’m not much of a sweets person. I want a bagel.”

  I grin at her. “Okay. I’ll force myself to fit the whole piece in.” We move to the register to place our order and pay.

  Gretchen says, “Go find us a table, and I’ll carry it over.”

  I take my tea from the counter and head toward a back corner. I want to see everyone coming and going. There are quite a few open tables tonight, and I find one easily. The lid of my pot rattles as I set it and my cup down on the shiny, wooden table. I sink into a oak chair that dwarfs me. Instead of perching on the edge, I pull my feet up and sit cross-legged.

  The hum of conversation comforts me. I catch the eye of a fellow children’s instructor, and we exchange waves. Being oblivious was nice while it lasted. I hear myself sigh. I’m worried for Gretchen. She’s fairly well known in our little world, and being Poster Gretchen may not be doing her any favors right now. I send a silent prayer to the powers that be in hopes what I fear isn’t true.

  I watch as no less than five pairs of male eyes track Gretchen’s approach to our table. Amazing. I hadn’t noticed that before. “Thanks.” I take a piece of carrot cake out of her hands.

  The sweet scent of vanilla rooibos tea floats to my nose as hot liquid splashes into my mug. My fork slides into the cake. “This might be why my abs are in hiding. Oh well.” I put the piece into my mouth. Nutty flavor excites my senses.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re hot enough without them. Besides, Kaleb is so in love with you, what do you need abs for?” Her bagel crunches as she takes a bite.

  “I know.” A goofy grin spreads over my face.

  Gretchen smiles. “God, you’re as bad as he is.”

  “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

  “Sure I have. But it’s not my thing. Now sex…,” she says. “Sex is my thing.”

  She winks at me, and I smirk. But not at her. I lean forward and whisper, “Do you know how many guys in here are squirming in their seats right now?”

  “Shit.” She raises her voice a little more. “What I wouldn’t give for a little lesbian love right about now.”

  I sit back and shake my head. “Seriously? I think you might have made it worse. If that’s possible.” My shoulders shake as I laugh.

  Gretchen leans forward. “C’mere.”

  “Oh no. I wouldn’t put it past you to kiss me.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Not gonna play.”

  She mutters, “Damn, you’re on to me.” And she starts to laugh too.

  While we enjoy our carbohydrate treats, I scan the room with the frequency of a security system. I don’t try to hide it from Gretchen.

  “You’re weirded out about my stalker, aren’t you?”

  “Yup, but technically he’s not a stalker. Right now it’s harassment.” I lower my voice even more. “Think about it. Half the guys in this town have seen you practically naked. They want to get in your pants so badly they trip over themselves. It would almost be surprising to find you don’t have someone following you.” I take a sip of tea and let what I said sink in. “This is no joke, Gretch.”

  Her mouth is a tight line, and s
he’s silent for a moment. “Why do I get the feeling you know more about stalkers than you’re telling me?”

  I sigh. “Because I do. But I don’t want to talk about it here.” I push my cake away. I’ve lost my appetite. “You almost done?”

  “Yeah, now I am.” She stands and grabs our plates.

  I follow with my tea as we make our way out of the café. I don’t bother to look back and see the audience. Their eyes burn into us like laser beams. I’m relieved when we exit to the fresh air.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  As I pull away from the coffee shop, I begin to speak. “Look, I had a stalker. Actually I still do, but he’s in rehab, and I’m fine for now.” I glance in the rearview mirror. “It can ruin your life. I hope this guy isn’t one, and I’m afraid for you.” I steal a quick look at Gretchen, and she appears nervous. “Just don’t take chances. Lock your doors, pay attention when you go out, and stay in safe places. If something strange happens, call the police.”

  “I think we’re overreacting.” Her stern voice tells me she’s scared and is the kind of person that hides fear with anger.

  “I know. We probably are. But please promise you’ll take precautions anyway? Please?”

  “I will.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Hey,” she says. “Lori?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m so sorry you have a stalker. Men suck dick.”

  Darn it. Her voice tells me she’s definitely scared. “Huh. Funny, I thought that’s what we did.” I send her a sideways look and see she gets my bad joke. Another glance in the rearview mirror makes me notice that a truck tailgates us.

  “Oh, you’re cute, cupcake, really cute.” She manages a small chuckle.

  Bright light flashes in my mirrors. “Jerk.” I flip up my mirror, but the light still reflects off my side-view mirrors into our eyes. Fear simmers in my stomach.

  Gretchen turns around. “He just turned on his high beams? What an asshat.” She turns around, annoyed by the light that shines in her eyes. “Oh shit. You don’t think it’s my creep, do you?”

  My nerves are on full alert. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out. Hang on.” I don’t put on my blinker and quickly turn right at the next intersection.

  The truck blows by but stops. I see him in my mirror, and he’s backing up. “Shit!” I know we’re a couple of miles from the police station and gun it.

  Gretchen leans over the back seat. “Fuck, he backed up and is behind us again. What do we do?” Her voice is frantic as she turns back and hangs on to the handle above the door.

  “We’re going to the police station. Call 911.” I can’t explain it, but calm determination waves over me. “Hold tight. I’m about to turn again.”

  I crank the wheel to the left, barely slowing down. The wheels of my truck skid out into a sweeping turn as if we’re skiing. I’m sure we barely missed the ditch, too. Moving too fast down the snow-covered dirt road, the wheel bounces in my hands. My headlights seem to skip over the ruts. I white-knuckle it and focus on staying on my side of the road. The truck catches up to us.

  Gretchen speaks into the phone. “We’re being chased by a big truck.” She listens. “I don’t know. Fuck, what road are we on?”

  “Huron. I’m about to turn onto Route 9.” I can see the highway clearly and thank God it’s clear. Without stopping, I turn right. I slow down to flow with current traffic. “We’re almost there.”

  “Okay. They say someone will be in the parking lot waiting for us.”

  “He didn’t follow us. I just saw him turn left.”

  I pull the truck into the parking lot and turn off the ignition. My hands shake but I’m calm. An officer knocks on my window. It hums softly as it lowers.

  “You ladies okay?” He’s an older man with a kind face. His brown eyes are hooded with concern. I smell the faint odor of cigarette smoke.

  I say, “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You may be, but I’m not. Some asshole just tried to chase us off the road.” Gretchen’s voice is angry.

  “Come on in the station, and we’ll see what we can do about this.” The officer opens my door and takes my hand while I step out. By the time we get to Gretchen’s side, she’s already jumped out.

  The smell of burnt coffee hits us as we enter the police station. We walk down a gray vinyl-tiled floor toward a hall as the officer leads us back to a room. A utilitarian desk faces us, and there are two plain wooden chairs set out. A big clock is on the wall, and it reminds me of middle school.

  “I’m Officer Jenkins. Have a seat.” He waves a hand toward the chairs.

  He settles down behind the desk and leans forward on his arms. “All right. Why don’t you explain what happened tonight.”

  Gretchen tells him everything from the beginning. Unfortunately, there isn’t much the police can do. Because we can’t ID the man and didn’t get a license plate number for the truck, there’s nothing to go on.

  We ride in silence as I drive Gretchen home. I hear her sigh. I sense she wants to talk. “How’re you holding up?”

  “I’ve been better. That wild ride freaked me out.”

  “Me too.” I glance at my mirrors.

  “You were awesome. Where did you learn to drive like that?”

  I answer, “That’s the first time I have ever driven like that.”

  “Holy shit. You’re the one to be with when the zombies come.” She snickers, and I smile because I have the usual Gretchen back.

  The tires crumble the snow when we pull into the driveway. I stop the car and turn to Gretchen. “Look, I know we didn’t get anywhere with the police, but at least you’re on their radar.”

  “I know.” Nylon zings as her unbuckled seatbelt retracts. “And I’ll take this seriously now.” She puts a hand on my arm. “Thanks.”

  “You can be my sidekick any time. I’ll wait until I see you flash the light, okay?”

  Gretchen nods and gets out of the car. Her long blond hair billows out behind her as she jogs to the door. Moments later I see the light blink off and back on.

  Driving away, I’m relieved nobody’s behind me. I would love to think this was a random occurrence like the police suggested. But I’m not buying the road rage explanation. Uneasiness settles over me as I become hyper alert.

  Chapter Thirty

  I pace my apartment. With all that happened tonight, I’m anxious. Even though it isn’t me I’m worried about, this hits too close to home. Once I change into my pajamas, I decide to brew a pot of lemon balm and chamomile tea.

  Dried leaves rustle faintly as I spoon them into the filter. The kettle is close to boiling, and I remove it from the stove just as it is about to whistle and pour water over the tea. While it steeps, I wrap my arms around myself. I wish Kaleb would come over tonight and am tempted to call him at work. I squeeze out honey into the teapot and stir it. Removing the filter from the pot, the lemon balm scent drifts to my nose. I cover it and carry it to the coffee table.

  I curl up on the couch with the intention of reading, but my mind is too busy racing to concentrate. Where did that eerie calm I possessed tonight come from? Seriously, it was as if someone else occupied my body. The last time I was put in such a stressful situation, I just let it happen. But tonight? I was awesome. I kept fear at bay and did what I had to do to keep Gretchen safe. A smile forms as I give myself an imaginary pat on the back.

  Loud banging on my door makes me jump. A shout comes through the thick metal. “Lori, it’s Edie.” My body goes cold and my scalp tingles. Edie is my landlord and the police chief’s wife. Oh God. I jump up, and the multiple locks clunk into the door as I work to let her in. Ice flows through my veins.

  Edie’s mouth is pursed. Something bad happened. “Gretchen?” I croak out her name.

  A dark brown bob of thick hair bounces as she shakes her head. “No. Phil sent me up here to talk to you.” She has stepped inside and moves toward my kitchen table. “Let’s sit for this.”

  My stomach clenches. “Sure.
” I drop to the chair, and my bones thud on the wood.

  “Phil heard about your excitement tonight, and it worried him. He made a call to Lucas’s parole officer.” She reaches for my hand. “Lucas missed his parole meeting, and nobody knows where he is.”

  The contents of my stomach lurch to my throat. Gretchen isn’t being harassed. It’s Lucas. I stare numbly into Edie’s eyes and begin to tremble. He was looking for me at the Peak 8 locker room. The brochure in my locker? He wants me to know he’s here. And tonight? He made sure of it.

  Tears of anger fill my eyes. It’s not fair! I was getting used to living without fear. Hell, I was leading a normal life with a great boyfriend and an awesome job. I was even spending time on the ice. Damn him!

  I croak out a whisper. “What do I do?”

  Edie stands up, and I notice a gun in the waistband of her jeans. She sees me look at it. “Retired cop. Still can’t leave home without it.” I nod in silence.

  “C’mon. I have a few things to show you that might help you sleep a little better.” She leads me back to the door. “First off, Phil and I both have a set of keys and a bolt cutter for the chain. We’re able to get through that door to you. Always keep it locked.”

  “Got it.” I slide my hand over one of the deadbolts, and the cold metal chills my fingers.

  Edie walks to the bedroom, and her feet thud with purpose. She lifts a small mirror off the wall and reveals a tiny recessed button the same color as the paint. “This is an intercom. I’ll turn on the system and leave it on. When you push the button, it activates speakers throughout the whole apartment. It has to be pushed again to turn off. I can hear what you say in every room of my house.”

  Whoa. I open my mouth to speak but she stops me.

  “Nadine sent you here for a reason. I had hoped you didn’t have to find out. Unfortunately, there are a lot stalkers out there.” She reaches over and touches my arm. “You don’t have to do this alone. Anytime you want to come sit with me, you’re welcome.”