JESSA
“You’ve only been here two nights,” Chris argues. “That’s nothing. Please stay, c’mon. Are you gonna make me get on my knees and beg?”
I’m in his kitchen with the small bag of belongings I’ve acquired in the past few days. A sweatshirt and cotton shorts Chris bought for me at the store, a spare toothbrush from his medicine cabinet, and two phones—mine and the one I stole from the yacht.
I spent the first night at Chris’s place in a sleepless haze of panic and worry. For a while, I thought I might never sleep again. But then, almost as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I went stone-cold unconscious and woke up sixteen hours later.
Now, in the light of the day, everything that happened at the yacht club feels like just a bizarre nightmare. One I’m rather eager to forget.
“I’m feeling a lot better. I think I’m ready to figure this all out.”
“I’m not sure if you remember this, but there’s a bad dude after you, Jess.” His brown eyes are pained, filled with the same worried expression that’s been plastered on his face since the moment I showed up on his doorstep, tearstained and breathless.
“First of all,” I say, grabbing my stuff, “Anton is not ‘after’ me. He was just… threatening me. All bark, no bite.”
It takes everything I have not to laugh at myself. No bite? Yeah fucking right.
Chris looks at me incredulously. “‘Just threatening you.’ And that’s… better?”
“He was just trying to scare me,” I say. “But I don’t think he would have, like, done anything.”
“That’s easy to say when you’re standing here, far away from him, wearing Walmart shorts with Lola Bunny on them.”
“Hey, you bought these for me, so I think it says more about your taste than it does about mine.”
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “What can I say? She’s a hot rabbit.”
I smile at my best friend and hold out my arms to him. “Can I get a hug before I go?”
He crosses his arms across his chest. He must’ve been hitting the gym regularly since we had our little falling out, because he’s gotten quite buff. Well, compared to old Scrawny Chris, at least.
“Jessa, I just think you’re not taking this seriously.”
“Of course I am. But I can’t spend my life cowering in fear.”
“Which is a great philosophy in principle, but doesn’t exactly hold up when there’s, ya know, legitimate shit trying to kill you.”
“I have insurance,” I remind him.
He picks up Anton’s phone lying on top of the duffel bag. “This piddly little thing is not going to save you.”
“It’s the kingpin’s secret Bat Phone,” I say confidently. “He wants it back.”
“Exactly!” Chris says, getting more and more frustrated. “He definitely wants it back. Which means that if he wasn’t going to check up on you before, he absolutely will now.”
“And when he does, he’ll realize I’ve stashed it somewhere and if he wants it back, he can’t touch me.”
“How long do you think that little plan will work?”
I shrug. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”
I head for the door, but Chris steps in to block me. “You’re being way too blasé about all this, J. This is not Law & Order. You are not Mariska Hargitay.”
I sigh. “I’m not being blasé, and I don’t even know who that is. I’m just being… realistic. I’m trying to manage this in a way that lets me get on with my life again.”
He frowns and squeezes the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath that I choose to ignore.
“Look, I know I sound insane right now,” I concede. “But, Chris, what else am I supposed to do? My world blew up two days ago. I need to find a new normal. The thought of getting back to some kind of normal is the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now.”