And I needed to stop.
It hadn’t been premeditated the first time. I’d been leaving a sushi restaurant the week of New Years, just days after our one night together and my talk with Isaac—with Twilight. I’d told him I’d leave her be, and I’d meant it at the time.
The sushi place in Knoxville was one of the small businesses where I invested our surplus of cash, and I’d spotted Diane across the strip mall parking lot, leaving the bank surrounded by a group of men and women in suits.
As usual, Diane had been dressed to impress in a blue skirt and tailored jacket that I knew matched the color of her eyes, the shirt underneath black or dark brown. I wasn’t certain, but I suspected the shoes she wore might’ve been the same ones from our night together.
Before I could suss out whether I was right, a woman came barreling out of the bank, yelling Diane’s name. I’d tensed, transfixed by the scene and stupidly ready to jump in should Diane need protection. The woman made to reach for her and several of the men blocked the woman’s path, lifting their hands to intervene.
The woman stepped back, but she also kept on shouting, calling Diane names that made my blood boil. Diane showed no outward sign of distress, but it must’ve upset her. It upset me. In fact, it pissed me right off.
Moments later, I sat in my car, driving some distance behind Diane all the way back to Green Valley. At one point I should’ve made a left toward the Dragon instead of a right toward the Donner Lodge. I’d figured there was no harm in making sure she made it back safely.
Once she’d made it to the Lodge, I’d figured there was no harm in waiting for her to finish work, ensure she made it home safely.
Once she’d made it home, I’d waited around to see if she left again, seeing as how I had no place else to be. Hours later, when she didn’t leave and the house lights went dark, I’d walked the perimeter of her property for reasons I couldn’t explain. Just to be sure, I’d told myself.
After two laps around, I realized I’d been gone too long, and so I drove back to the compound. And that was meant to be that.
But then, weeks later, news made it around town that Diane Donner had landed in the hospital. Someone hit her over the head and left her for dead next to Old Man Blount’s bee boxes. When I heard this news, the intensity of my anger blindsided me.
I’d told myself I just needed to see her, to make sure she was okay, and I would only stakeout her house for a few days, to ensure the guilty party didn’t try anything else. But a few days became a few weeks, and a few weeks became a few months.
And now here I was, sitting low in the Benz at the edge of the Donner Bakery parking lot, watching Diane and her daughter walk to their respective cars. I did this almost every night. Just like I tailed Diane to the Lodge almost every morning. Then I’d go about my day. Then I’d return to watch her leave. Then I’d walk the perimeter of her property at least three times before riding back to the Dragon and repeating the day all over again.
I rarely used the same car twice in the same day and made a point of parking in different spots each time. Usually in the evenings I used my bike and left it at the bottom of the hill, then walked on foot through the woods until the Lodge came into view. Not tonight, obviously.
But every single night, in the stretching minutes between arriving at the Lodge and Diane showing her face, I told myself that particular day would be the last. Yet, just as soon as she appeared—sometimes with her daughter, sometimes with her secretary, sometimes with Cletus Winston, but mostly on her own—I’d change my mind.
And now I was officially a damn stalker.
“You are a damn stalker, Jason Doe.” Tracking Diane until she slipped into her BMW, I gritted my teeth.
I didn’t want anything from her. I honestly didn’t. I’d kept my promise to her son. I’d left her alone, I hadn’t approached her, I hadn’t spoken to her. I’d even gone so far as to deliberately ignore her.
Once, when I’d been trailing her through downtown, I knew she’d seen me. I’d made a point to not look at her and I’d walked right on by.
In the middle of a Saturday afternoon last month, I’d given Wolf’s Old Lady a ride to the store on my bike. By chance, Diane had been there. I’d made a show of being real friendly with Tamara, who’d been happy to play along, and I was fairly certain Diane had watched the whole show from her car.
Isaac had been right when he said our life wasn’t for folks like her. I sure as hell didn’t want her in this life, and so the promise had been easy to keep. But, goddammit, someone needed to make sure Diane stayed safe.
She was all alone. She lived by herself. Most everywhere she went, she was by herself. It eventually came out that her ex-husband, his mistress, and his mistress’s psychotic sister had been responsible for leaving Diane for dead by Old Man Blount’s bee boxes, but only one of them had taken the fall.
Just the sister had been prosecuted for the crime and was currently serving jail time, leaving Diane’s ex and his girlfriend to roam free after a slap on the wrist for roughing up Diane’s daughter Jennifer. Now they were missing.
I’d tried to track them down, but I couldn’t tap into the Wraiths’ resources or use our contacts without arising suspicion. And so, I reckoned, with Kip Sylvester and his mistress out there somewhere, someone needed to think about Diane’s safety.
Her car pulled out of the space and left the lot. After her taillights faded, I counted to three and then followed. She made a quick stop at the Piggly Wiggly and shopped while I simultaneously scanned the lot for threats and grumbled at my own stupidity, at war with myself over a woman. A woman.
There was only one woman I would stick my neck out for, the only person I would betray my club brethren for, the real reason I’d come to Green Valley in the first place. That woman was my biological daughter.
I used to follow her around, too. Not every day, but once in a while. I’d show up to places I knew she’d be. I’d keep eyes on her. Seeing she was safe meant I slept better at night.
But Jessica had left town just after Thanksgiving last year. I’d briefly considered following her out of town, leaving everything behind here, but that hadn’t seemed right. She was a grown woman. Our lives had always run parallel, and the time had come to let her go. Still, I would choose Jessica over anyone, anytime, anywhere, a weakness I’d made peace with long ago.
But this? Following Diane Donner from home to work, from work to home, and spending too much time thinking about her welfare? I was not at peace with this shit.
“Fuck me.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, watching her move the groceries from the cart into the trunk of her car, crushing the insane desire to stroll on over there and help her unload the bags.
She walked the empty shopping cart all the way back to the store, just like she always did. She then reappeared and I watched her walk across the lot, her hips swaying, the tight fit of the calf-length skirt around her ass and thighs making the modest clothing item pleasingly indecent. She’d put on weight over the last few months and it more than suited her.
Before slipping inside the driver’s side, she peeled off the matching jacket and hung it up in the back seat, leaving her in a white V-neck tank top. It was a hot day, mid-summer. She fanned herself, flipping her hair, longer now than it had been Christmas Eve. I watched her smile at a mother and baby; I watched her stop and talk to the local pastor’s wife; I watched her laugh at something one of the Williams brothers said as he walked by.