Jesse knows where Allison lives.
Jesse has already been talking about going to her apartment and getting his revenge.
Jesse could be on his way there right now.
I bolt out of the bar, ignoring the voices calling to me, confused about where I’m going. I feel sick, though I don’t know if that’s because of the alcohol or because I’m suddenly fucking terrified about what will happen next.
Does Jesse know what happened between Allison and me?
Is he angry because Allison slept with another man?
If he was spying on Allison, maybe he followed us to the alley and saw us kissing before we headed back to her apartment. Is that why he knows where she lives, because we wasted precious minutes in the alley and allowed him to catch up?
I’m dimly aware that nothing I’m thinking right now sounds logical. I need to calm down, because there’s a good chance that nothing is going to happen. It would be stupid to chase Jesse down only to have him flee back to his own home, terrified of confronting me.
But…what if?
What if?
I stop, the door of the bar slamming closed behind me. At some point it started raining, and I squint through the haze, uncaring of the fact that I’m swiftly getting soaked. I can’t see Jesse at all; he’s quicker than he looks, and he’s already disappeared on me. Fuck, the bastard could be anywhere right now.
Do I take the chance that it’s nothing? It’s probably just paranoia, I’m likely still just jumpy about what I witnessed last night. The look in Jesse’s eyes yesterday combined with his words tonight have just unnerved me. Nothing is going to happen.
But…
I turn and start to run, heading in the direction of Allison’s apartment.
It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to take that chance.
Chapter Eight
Allison
There’s a pounding sound which reverberates through my skull and makes me groan, angry at being woken up. I blink my eyes open and stare blearily up at the ceiling.
What time is it?
I turn my head and glance at the clock. It’s two -thirty in the morning. Why the hell am I awake at two-thirty in the damn morning?
Then I hear the pounding sound again. There’s something knocking on the door with all their might. It’s disturbed me, and likely all my neighbors, from slumber.
I have half a mind to yell at whoever is at my door. I slip out of bed and grab my robe, indignant at the rough wake up call, and stalk to my bedroom door, throwing it open. The knocker falls silent, no doubt hearing me moving about.
Then I freeze. It’s two-thirty in the morning. Who would be knocking on my door at this time of night?
Fear suddenly rises in me? Is there an emergency? But, no, none of my family live in Philadelphia; they would have called before making their way here if something bad had happened.
So…?
Then another possibility raises its head.
Jesse.
It had taken me far too long to notice that Jesse shouldn’t have been hanging around the convenience store last night. When I realized that Jacqui was right about my normal drinking habits, it wasn’t hard to jump to the realization that Jesse would have also known about these habits. I hadn’t moved very far from Jesse’s apartment, more for convenience’s sake than anything, so I was still visiting the same damn shop.
Yet Jesse was there. He may not have known I would show up last night. But…what if he had known I would turn up there eventually?
Does that mean he knew I didn’t move far?