15. Gia

It"s been a long day, its barely noon, and I"m craving some comfort food—a little something to take the edge off the chaos that seems to follow me wherever I go.

As I make my way into town, I pass by the usual sights and sounds—the hustle and bustle of commuters rushing to and fro, the tantalizing aromas wafting out of the nearby cafes and restaurants. It"s a familiar scene, one that I"ve grown accustomed to over the last few weeks.

There's something special about this place. It's so peaceful.

But as I turn the corner onto a quieter street, my senses are assaulted by a sight that stops me dead in my tracks. A woman stands on the sidewalk, her clothes tattered and dirty, her hair matted and unkempt. She scratches at her chest and arms with frantic urgency, her eyes wild and unfocused.

My heart goes out to her, a pang of sympathy stirring within me as I watch her struggle. It"s clear that she"s in the throes of some sort of mental episode, lost in a world of her own making.

She's extremely out of place around here.

She starts following me.

"Hey, hey you," she says in a husky voice. "I need you to stop."

For a moment, I hesitate, unsure of what to do. I should really keep walking and get out of this situation.

You can protect yourself. You should stop. Maybe you can help her.

I sigh as I turn around and take in our surroundings at first. It's best to make sure that I'm not walking into a trap. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, just me and this emaciated and clearly strung out woman.

"Hey there," I say gently, taking a tentative step forward. "Are you okay?"

The woman"s gaze snaps to mine, her eyes widening with surprise as if noticing me for the first time. She blinks, as if trying to make sense of my presence, before nodding hesitantly.

"I... I don"t know," she mutters, her voice shaky and uncertain. "I just... I can"t seem to shake this feeling."

I offer her a sympathetic smile, trying to convey my concern without overwhelming her. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shakes her head, a look of frustration crossing her face. "I don"t know... I just need... something."

Before I can respond, she suddenly lunges forward, her movements jerky and erratic. Instinct kicks in, and I take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest as I brace myself for whatever comes next.

But instead of attacking me, the woman simply stands there, her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that is bone chilling. And then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she turns and begins to walk away.

Allison?

I watch her go, a sense of unease settling over me as I try to make sense of what just happened. But before I can dwell on it any longer, I shake my head and continue on my way, eager to put the encounter behind me.

You're imagining things. That wasn't Allison.

As I walk, I can"t shake the feeling that I"m being followed—a sense of unease that prickles at the back of my neck. I glance over my shoulder, but there"s no one there, just the empty street stretching out behind me.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of movement. It's the same woman from before. It's as if she's so high that she can't focus enough to remember who I am. She"s following me, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she"s biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I quicken my pace as I try to put some distance between us. I need to get to a spot that's not blatantly in the public eye so I can see what this is about.

Is she someone from Christoph? From the Carusso Family? Or is she just someone going through a hard time?

Why is she following me? Why single me out?

But no matter how fast I walk, she"s always there, just out of sight, a silent shadow that refuses to be shaken.

There's an alley up ahead, the end of Main Street, and not an as busy area. If I have to fight or pull out my concealed weapon at least no one should see it and question why I carry or know how to fight.

A buyer from Macy's shouldn't need to know self-defense or carry a gun.

I turn right into the alley and the woman follows behind me. As I spin around and lock eyes with her, I know without a doubt why she's following me.

"You have to help me, Gia. They're trying to kill me."

"Who's trying to kill you, Allison?" I ask gruffly.

I want to scream at her to get away. I want to tell her that I hope whoever is after her does find her after what she's done to me.

I don't feel sorry for her.

She turned her back on me and everyone else.

She didn't just turn her back on me, she threw me under the bus and tried to make me her scapegoat.

"Rodney."

"He's not trying to kill you."

"I blew it all wide open. I blew it all wide open," she repeats as she glances at the ground and then up at the sky.

"What are you on?"

"I haven't slept in…. days."

I blow out a breath.

I cannot feel sorry for her.

"How did you find me?"

"I… I knew you would come back to be with your brother and sister when they put you on a leave of absence. When I realized I was being followed, I came here for your help."

"You have a lot of nerve to come here," I hiss. "You made it look like I was to blame. That I'm the shady piece of…"

"It wasn't hard to throw you under the bus," she laughs. "After all, with your family history a few lies go a long way to point out who the real people in your life are. I did you a favor, now you know who is fake and how temporary it all is. Christoph can…"

"Christoph is the one trying to kill you, dumbass."

"He would never. He loves me."

I roll my eyes and chuckle drily. "You can't be that stupid. You fell in love with him? Did you believe him? Allison, he's a con artist and you know that. He'll tell you whatever you want to hear to get you to do whatever he wants and you fell for it. You're a good operative and you just threw it all away for some dick?"

"It's not like that. You don't know him."

"I do know him. I know a hundred guys just like him. It's our job to know him. Remember?"

She shakes her head and starts scratching her chest. I close my eyes and fight back all of the emotions. She's showing all of the telltale signs of someone being on meth or something similar.

How in the Hell did this happen?

How did I miss it?

"I need your help."

"Who is following you?"

"Rodney."

"Again, he's not. But the CIA is looking for you because despite throwing me under the bus they know that you are to blame. They need answers."

"They're trying to kill me," she murmurs.

She's clawing at her chest and her arms. Her eyes are cloudy and far away. She starts tugging on her own hair.

"What the fuck are you on, Allison?"

"Nothing. No sleep. No sleep."

Is she undercover and just playing the part that well?

No, she's good but she can't fake this.

I shake my head and let out a groan. She takes a step forward and reaches toward me.

"I'm not doing this, Allie," I sigh. "I can't. I trusted you and thought of you as family but the second you got caught being a piece of shit you tried to take me down with you. I've basically lost my job because of you."

"Christoph will take care of you."

"No. That's the difference between me and you. I am not dirty. I will not turn to being a felon."

"I'm not a felon. It's a better life and you know it. I have millions of dollars. I travel on private planes and have beach houses."

"And yet, here you are in front of me like a homeless schizo meth head. You're doing great, Allie," I snap.

She balks, taking a step back with wide eyes. It's almost like she doesn't realize what she looks like right now.

"I am wealthy."

"You're wealthy or Christoph is wealthy and let you believe that it was also yours?" I laugh drily. "You're pathetic."

"You're no better than me. Do you think I don't know that you're sleeping with the Carusso Family? I see you, Miss High and Mighty. I see you."

I remain stoic, not allowing her to see any emotion on my face.

Why does she think Ryder is part of the Carusso Family? Does she know something that I don't?

"You're ridiculous. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have to help me, Gia. You have to. They're going to kill me. They're trying to kill me now."

"I almost died because you sent Christoph's lackeys after me. I don't care if they torture you for the next year. I am not helping you. You made your choices, and you have to live with them."

"You bitch!" she shrieks as she rushes at me.

I put out my hand and it connects with her chin. She makes a weird sound before flying back into the wall. She slams into it and slumps down, eyes closed.

She's alive. I'm not sticking around for her to wake up.

I walk away and dial Rodney's number. He answers on the third ring.

"Allison is in Ash Cove. I left her unconscious in an alley. She needs rehab."

"What do you mean unconscious in an alley?"

"Not sure how I can be more clear," I sigh irritably. "She came to me asking for help as she's convinced that you're trying to kill her. When I told her I wouldn't help her she came after me. I knocked her unconscious and I left."

"That's cold."

"She is blaming me for the things she did. She deserves worse."

"Did you call the police?"

"No, I called you immediately."

"This doesn't get you off the hook. If this is your little plan for you to get off the hook with blatant lies, you'll just get in more trouble."

"I guess since I'm on a leave of absence I don't need to have any remorse when I say this, fuck you, Rodney."

I hang up the phone and pocket it in my purse. I make my way back to my car, quickening my steps as I go. I'm so pissed, and I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes. I cannot afford for anyone to see me crying and question it.

I'm an angry crier and it's probably the thing I hate about myself. It makes me look weak and as though the other person got to me. In a way, I guess she did, but not in the way that she thinks.

I get into my car, take a deep breath and start it. As soon as it roars to life the tears stream down my face.

How dare she come to me for help.

You can't just try to ruin someone's life and then expect them to drop everything to help you.

It is so hard to walk away, to leave her unconscious in an alley; a sitting duck for whoever is hunting her down but it's legitimately what she did to me.

I can't go back now. If Rodney catches me there helping her he'll think that I'm guilty too.

I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot. I'm on autopilot as I pull into my cottage. I sit there, car running and stare out into the ocean, lost in my thoughts.

How in the Hell did my life get here?