Follow You Home

Once Dom and Carmine leave, I lock myself in the house and start cleaning the kitchen. When I'm done, I strip the sheets off the bed and throw them in the washer, and replace them with clean ones. Then, I go into the living room and fold up the blankets that Dom used and straighten things up a little. Once I'm satisfied the house is in order, I sit down and flip on the tv. I've never been a clean freak, in fact my apartment is typically a disaster, but now that I'm living with John I just feel like there is nothing else to do but clean.

I flip through the channels on the tv until I find the cooking channel. I'm not a cook, in fact I can't even boil water, but I like watching other people cook. It's relaxing to me to watch them measure and stir and fry. I sit mesmerized on the couch for two hours, when I hear a noise in the front yard and the dog start barking. I mute the tv and listen for a minute before standing up to see whats going on. I consider taking my gun to the door with me, but decide against it. Wouldn't want to scare the mail man. I open the front door slowly and peek out. There's nobody on the porch and no cars in the driveway. The dog is at the end of his chain, whining and staring towards the side yard.

"Whats going on, buddy?" I ask the dog. He looks at me and whines, but gives me no indication at what he was barking at. I shrug. Probably just a squirell.

I shut the door behind me and lock it, then turn around. My heart stops at the sight of Drita D'Angelo standing in front of me. She's holding a gun at eye level, pointing at me. I make eye contact with her and instantly it all comes together.

"It's you. You're my stalker." I say. She smirks coldly.

"I wondered if you'd ever put it together."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious yet?"

"John."

"There you go! She's got it now, folks!" she shouts. I'm slowly getting over the shock, now I'm searching for a way out of this. My gun is stuck under the couch cushion behind Drita, so thats out. I could turn and try and run out the front door, but I know she would shoot me before I got the door unlocked. The only other option I have is to get her talking.

"You want John." I say.

"Yeah, and I almost had him until you came along."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I almost had him! And you came along and sunk your fangs back into him, you bitch."

"Drita, listen to me...John and I are just friends. He's a friend of my brothers." I say.

"You're a liar. I've heard the stories. I've seen you two together."

"You have no reason to trust me...Why don't you put the gun down and we can call him and get this settled." I say, slowly walking forward towards my cell phone. She waves the gun in my face.

"Stay there. Don't you fucking move, you liar."

"I'm not lying to you."

"God, I almost had him. I finally left my stupid husband, I thought John would finally see me now that I was single. We could finally be what we were always meant to be." she says.

"He helped you move."

"Yeah and he was just about to realize how much he wanted me, when you came along."

"So you come after me and my family?"

"I wanted to make you suffer for what you did to me!" she yells.

"So you think that if you get rid of me, John will want you?" I ask.

"Exactly. With you out of the way, there will be nothing standing in our way."

She's crazy. Dilusional. But I don't know what to do. She's holding a gun to my head. I can't run, can't reach my gun or my phone. My last option is to get the gun away from her. I've never been much of a fighter and I'm not in the greatest of shape at the moment. Drita, on the other hand looks strong and toned, like she's been training for this moment. I used to hear about her getting in fights in high school. She's experienced and has a gun. I have terror and adrenaline.

I start looking around the house erratically. She follows my eyes with hers, trying to see what I'm looking at, and thats when I strike. I slam her in the chest with both of my fists. She falls back a little and then roundhouses me in the back of the head with her free hand. I grab a fist full of her hair and yank it back. She screams and points the gun at my head. I grab her wrists with both of my hands and push them up, towards the ceiling, so that the gun is pointing at the wall. She pulls the gun back and slams me in the forehead with the stock. My vision goes foggy at the blow and I fall back, holding my head. I'm dizzy, but I have to keep fighting otherwise she'll kill me. Drita slams me against the wall and tries to wrap her hands around my throat but I start shaking my head violently. I kick my feet until I connect with her knee. I knock her feet out from under her and start to run for the living room, but she reaches me and shoves me back into the wall. We both stop and breathe for a second, when we hear the dog barking and voices outside. I can see red and blue lights through a slit in the living room curtains and I know that the cops are outside. Drita knows it too, because her eyes are filled with panic.

"You bitch, I will kill you before they can get in here." she hisses.

"If you kill me, he'll never want you. He loves me. He'll never love you. If you walk out the door right now, you can get out of this. You can move on."

"Either way, I'm going to prison."

"Not necesarrily."

We both pause at the sound of someone walking up the front steps. My head is pounding and all I want to do is lay down. The doorknob starts turning and Drita turns around and points the gun towards the door. The door opens slowly and John walks in and closes it behind him without a word. He takes a moment to take in the situation. We make eye contact and I nod a little, before slumping down to the floor and sitting with my back against the wall. I've never had a concussion, but I'm pretty sure this is what it feels like.

"Drita, what are you doing?"

"John, you need to leave."

"I'm not leaving until you give me the gun. Come on, no one has to get hurt here."

"It's too late for that, don't you think? Don't you think you've hurt me?" I watch as John stares down at her, seeming to absorb the fact that she's crazy.

"Of course, baby. I'm sorry, I know I've been an idiot, but you have to give me the gun." he says in a soft tone, as if he's talking to a child.

"No. I need to get rid of her."

"Let the cops take care of her. You and I can walk out of here together and never look back."

"I don't believe you." she says. I can tell she's tearing up even though she has her back to me. John's eyes never leave hers.

"Come on, give me the gun, Drita. We can do this, you just have to give me the gun." he says. She thinks about it for a minute.

"If I give you the gun, you have to kiss me...Right in front of her." She says, gesturing to me for the first time. John glances at me briefly and then nods.

"Ok."

She slowly hands him the gun and watches as he unloads it, dropping the bullets into his jeans pocket and then he sets the gun on the floor and kicks it towards me. I hear Drita sniff as if she's holding back tears and I can feel my own heart beating hard in my chest. John gently pushes a peice of her hair out of her face and then leans in and kisses her. He wraps his arms around her in a protective way and then pulls away.

"I'm sorry." he whispers into her hair. She nods and he wraps his arm around her shoulders and walks her to the door. They walk out together and I drop my head onto my knees. The front door opens and my brother, Frank, runs in. He drops into a crouch next to me.

"Jesus, Isabelle, are you OK?"

"No, my head is throbbing. I think I have a concussion. She hit me really hard." I say, quietly.

"OK, baby, I'm going to pick you up now, and we're going to go outside. Here we go." He scoops me up and carries me outside and across the yard to an ambulance. He sets me down on the step of the ambulance and two EMT's immediately start asking me questions and checking me out. I catch John out of the corner of my eye as he walks up to Frank. They talk for a second and then John moves forward and crouches down next to me.

"How you feeling?"

"Like I was hit in the head." He squeezes my hand.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"No it's not. You didn't know she was crazy."

"I knew she was attracted to me. I could have let her know how I felt and let her down easy."

"Stop. I have a headache and no energy to fight with you. I don't blame you." I say, firmly.

"We're gonna have to take her into ER." one of the EMT's says.

"OK, I'll ride with her." John says.