Follow You Home

It's been two days since John and I had our blow-up fight. We haven't spoken more than five words to each other and the tension when we're around each other is thick. We both know that our relationship has come to a stand still, but don't really know what to do to change it. Neither of us are ready for a commited relationship, yet we don't want to be apart or do what we're doing right now.

It's about five thirty and I'm laying on the couch, reading a magazine, when John bursts into the house. I jump in surprise because I never heard him pull in the driveway. I sit up and watch as he stomps into the kitchen without a word. I stand up and follow him, standing with my arms crossed, watching as he reaches into the cupboard above the refridgerator and takes down a glass bottle with some kind of dark booze in it. He sets it down on the table and then pulls down two short glasses and brings them over.

"Good day?" I ask, sarcastically. He flashes me a dark look and pours the amber liquid into one of the glasses and pours it down his throat.

"What even is that?"

"Scotch. Want some?"

"No." he grins and throws another shot back.

"Chicken." he says. I roll my eyes.

"Very mature."

"Then, drink some."

"Fine." he pours us each a shot and I pick up mine, never breaking eye contact with him. I toss the shot back and almost start choking. I take a deep breath. My throat is burning and my stomach is questioning everything I've put in it today. I look at John. His breathing is normal, his skin doesn't appear flushed and he's pouring us each another. This time, there's less burn and more glow. I can feel the alcohols effects, my body is loosening and I'm feeling a lot less tense. John is staring at me with hunger in his eyes and it sends a rush of heat through my entire body.

"Another." I say, finally. He pours us each another glass and we shoot them down.

"Aren't we supposed to be mad at each other?" he asks.

"I think so..."

"I don't feel mad anymore."

"Me neither." I agree.

"I feel horny." his voice is rough and completely sexual. He walks over to me and takes my empty glass out of my hand and sets it down on the table next to us. Then, he puts his hand on my face and kisses me. It starts slow and then gets hotter. I grab handfuls of the front of his shirt and haul him closer to me as his hands start roaming over my back. Finally, he grabs my hand and drags me into the bedroom and slams the door shut behind us. I pull my shirt off over my head and toss it aside and watch as he kicks his boots off and unbuttons his long sleeved denim shirt. I help him out of his shirt and then run my hands over his muscular chest.

Once we're both naked, he pushes me onto the bed and crawls on top of me. He starts massaging his thumbs in slow circular motions over my hips, because he knows it drives me nuts. I moan and dig my fingernails into his back. I hear him laugh softly and then he moves my thighs apart and thrusts into me. I arch my back into his thrusts and he pulls my leg up around his waist. We climax together and he falls off of me onto his back. We lay there, panting and sweaty, waiting for our heart rates to drop down from stroke level, until he reaches over to me and lifts me slightly and pulls the covers out from under us. We jockey around for position until I end up on my side with my head on his shoulder. His arms are wrapped around me, keeping me close.

We wake up at six in the morning, when John's alarm goes off. The bedroom is dark and John pulls me closer to him for a second and then crawls out of bed. He turns on the bathroom light, illuminating the room with soft light. I listen as he showers with my eyes closed, feeling very content, in fact I think I'm purring. He walks out of the bathroom naked, which breaks my train of thought. I watch as he gets dressed, then comes over and puts his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. He sits down on the edge of the bed then, and strokes my face with the back of his hand.

"Are we good?" he asks.

"We're good."

"I've missed you, Cupcake. The couch has been lonely."

"Yeah."

"One day, we've got to talk about us."

"I know."

"Not today, but soon."

"OK." I nod. He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

"I'll see you tonight." he says, then stands and leaves the room. I burrow back under the covers and listen as he shuts and locks the front door behind him and then I hear him moving around outside, talking to the dog as he feeds it, and then starting his truck and pulling it out of the driveway.

I sleep for another two hours and then crawl out of bed and take a shower. When I'm done, I get dressed in jeans and a bright purple tee shirt with a very deep v-neck that shows off my cleavage. I dry my hair and fluff it a little with some mousse, then do my makeup. When I'm done, I'm pretty happy with the finished product, then walk out to the kitchen to find something for breakfast. John has coffee ready, so I pour some in a cup and grab the box of Cap'n Crunch out of the cupboard and pour some in a bowl with milk. While I eat, my cell phone rings in the living room, so I get up and run to get it. It's my mother.

"Hello?"

"Izzy, it's your mother."

"I know, Ma. Caller ID." I say.

"Oh, well anyways, the mailman brought something for you."

"To your house?"

"Yes. It doesn't have a return address, which is strange don't you think?"

"Is it an envelope or a package?" I ask.

"An envelope. Were you expecting anything?" My mind has gone straight to the stalker, but I don't want to freak my mother out.

"I might have. I don't remember. I'm sure the address was just a mix up. I'm working all day, but I'll come pick it up tonight, OK?"

"OK, honey. Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm not sure."

"Alright, see you tonight."

"Yup, bye." I hang up and dial John's cell phone. He doesn't answer, so I hang up and wait. A moment later, he calls me back.

"Yeah?" he says.

"My mom just called and said I have mail at her house, an unmarked envelope." He's silent on the other end.

"Hello?" I say.

"Do you think it's from the stalker?" he asks.

"I have a gut feeling."

"Me too. We'll go get it tonight when I get home."

"OK."

"I hate this." he says as he hangs up. I sigh and stare at my now soggy cereal. Everything in me wants to go to my parents house right now. John has an old beater of a Chrysler that he drives in the winter sometimes, it would be easy for me to take it and drive over there. But, my brain is telling me that would be a bad idea. The stalker could be watching my parents house, waiting for me to come get this envelope, waiting to grab me or shoot me or God only knows what.

I wait around the house all afternoon. I do laundry, vaccum the whole house and do dishes. Once I'm finished, the house is sparkling and I'm starving, so I make myself a sandwich and cut myself off a huge piece of carrot cake that John's mother made and sent home with him after a visit earlier in the week. When I'm done, I go into the bedroom and tear the sheets off the bed and shove them into the washing machine, then go sit down in the living room. As soon as I sit down, my phone rings, the caller ID showing an unfamiliar number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Dom."

"What phone are you calling from?" I ask.

"This is my new cell. I ran into a bit of trouble in the Caymen Islands and had to ditch my old one."

"I'll program this one in my phone then. Where are you now?"

"Jersey. I'll be home in another week, just have to tie up some loose ends. How are things going on your end?"

"Same."

"Still staying with John?"

"Yeah."

"Any idea who's stalking you?"

"None, the cops are apparently working on it, but I haven't heard anything. I know Frank isn't on the case, but he keeps his ears open."

"Yeah, they'll figure it out."

"Wow, was that faith in the system that I just heard?"

"What can I say? Sometimes they come through. Frank's a good cop, he'll keep you safe." he says. I hear a voice in the background and Dom swear under his breath.

"Hey, I gotta go. I'll call you later."

"Dom? What's going on?"

"Nothing, I'll talk to you soon. Love you." he says and then hangs up.

My stomach feels unsettled as I hang up. I'm not sure if it's because of Dom's sudden hang up or the cake I ate with lunch. I look up at the clock and see I only have another half hour until John comes home, so I relax on the couch and flip through all of the channels, finally falling on an informercial for a hardcore workout DVD system. That puts me into a depression, until finally John walks in the door. He smirks when he see's what I'm watching.

"Getting inspired?"

"More like depressed." he pulls me into his chest for a hug.

"You're perfect in every way...and I mean every possible way." I roll my eyes.

"Are you ready to go over to your folks?" he asks.

"Yeah, I have to get a sweatshirt though." I go into the bedroom and grab a black fitted hoodie and pull it on, zipping it as I walk out to the foyer.

The drive to my parents seems longer than it ever has before. John knows exactly where he's going, as he's been to my parents a million times as a teenager and young adult. We drive by first, checking out all of the cars parked on the street, making sure their all empty. John takes a right and parks on the street around the corner from my parents place. We get out and walk down the street to a little walking trail that goes behind all of the houses on my parents street. Most houses have a tall privacy fence blocking anyone that might be walking down this trail. John and I walk side by side four houses down until we get to my parents. He reaches over the top of their fence and unbolts the lock, then pushes the fence open. We step into the back yard and he locks the fence behind us, before we cross the yard to the back door. I lead the way inside and step into the warmth of the kitchen. My mother is standing at the sink and looks dismayed. John steps in behind me and shuts the door behind us.

"What are you doing, coming in the back? You scared the bejesus out of me. If I hadn't recognized you, I would have gone upstairs to get your grandmothers gun." I grimace at the thought of my grandma carrying a gun.

"Sorry, we came from Sixth street, thats why we came from the back." I explain.

"Well, next time come through the front."

"Where is Dad and Grandma?" I ask.

"Your father is at the club, playing cards and your grandmother is out shopping with some friends." I realize that she's staring at John, so I step out from in front of him.

"Mom, this is John. John, my mom." He politely shakes her hand and gives her a smile, which judging from the look on her face, is just proving everything that she's ever heard about him to be true. She points to the front of the house.

"That envelope is in the foyer." she says.

I lead John through the dining room into the foyer. The TV is on in the living room when we pass by, even though nobody is watching it. I find the envelope on the side table by the door where my parents leave their keys and other things. My mother has a bouquet of fake flowers on the table as well. I pick up the envelope and examine it. It's just a basic white envelope with my name and my parents address handwritten on the front. It says it was sent from the post office early this morning. I open it and pull out a piece of white printer paper. I unfold the paper and find a message written in big black letters.

Did you think I forgot about you? Don't worry, I didn't. You'll be getting yours soon. You won't know when, but don't worry, I'm watching. You'll pay for what you did to me. Soon

My hands are shaking as I read the letter again. John puts his hand on my shoulder and turns me so that I'm facing him. He takes the letter from me, folds it up and puts it back in the envelope, then puts it in his jeans pocket. He puts his hands on my shoulders than.

"Look at me. I know you're scared, but you can't show your mom that anything is wrong. You have to pull yourself long enough to get out of the house, OK?" I nod quickly. He squeezes my shoulders and allows me a moments to pulls myself together, than I lead him back into the kitchen.

"Ma, we have to go." I tell her.

"I'm not surprised. I had to know you wouldn't be staying for dinner."

"Another time, OK?" she nods. I give her a hug, holding her tightly. I pull away and kiss her cheek.

"I love you. I'll talk to you later." I tell her.

"Take care of my girl." she tells John.

"I will ma'am." he says. She nods at him and then he leads me out to the back yard. We step out onto the walking trail and I bend over and suck in some air, bracing my hands on my knees. John places his hand on my back to comfort me, but doesn't say anything.

"I'm kind of freaking out right now." I tell him.

"I know."

"They want to scare me. They want me to know that they know where my parents live and that they can do anything they want to them."

"Stop. Nothing is going to happen to your parents. We're going to call your brother as soon as we get to the truck. He'll keep them safe." I nod and then stand up. He throws his arm around my shoulder and we start walking.

"Your mom hates me." he says.

"Why do you think that?"

"Baby, every womans mother hates me. I don't exactly inspire confidence." I smile.

"You had a wild youth."

"That's the first time I've ever been in the downstairs of your house though."

"What? You've never been downstairs?"

"No. You don't remember me breaking into your bathroom window?" I smirk as the memory floods my mind.

I was seventeen, sitting in the bathtub, enjoying myself, when all of a sudden the window flew open and John Kristaldi lowered himself inside. I gasped and quickly tried to cover myself as he turned to face me. He smirked down at me and I pointed to the door.

"Get out!" I screamed, trying to avoid eye contact. He made his way to the door and paused for a second and looked at me and we made a silent pact that no one would ever find out about this little encounter. It wouldn't have ended well for either of us.

"Good times." he says, kissing the top of my head.

"My brothers would have kicked your ass if they had ever found out."

"That's what made it fun. And I got to see you naked." I roll my eyes.

"Pig."

We step out onto the street and quickly make our way to the truck in the dark and drive home.