Gianna noticed it too. She reached over, her fingers slowly curling around my forearm.
“Remy…”
“It’s okay, bae,” I replied calmly even though my mind was trying to quickly figure out a plan. “Don’t panic.”
I took another turn.
So did the truck.
Now my pulse was starting to kick up. “Reach in that glove compartment and grab my gun for me,” I said low, eyes still fixed on the rearview.
Her brows lifted. “You have a gun?”
“Just do it, baby,” I said firmly.
She opened the compartment carefully before handing it to me.
I rested it on my lap. “See if you can get a picture of the plates for me.”
Gianna nodded quickly and shifted in her seat, turning slightly to angle her phone toward the windshield without making it obvious. The truck stayed behind us. Its headlights glowed against the darkness as it kept pace a few car lengths back.
“You get the plates?” I asked after a moment.
“I’m trying.” She zoomed in on her phone with a frustrated sigh. “The light keeps glaring over it.”
I slowed slightly.
The truck slowed too.
Hell naw. Something wasn’t right.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel while I glanced around quickly assessing the area. We were only fifteen minutes from my parents' house, but I had no intentions of driving straight there now.
The truck remained behind us through another light.
Then another turn.
Then another.
Every instinct in my body was screaming now. My mind already creating scenarios on what would happen to my son, my family, and Gianna if I had to shoot this nigga.
Gianna finally lowered her phone into her lap. “I got a partial plate, babe.”
“Okay, love.” I nodded. My eyes flicked toward a brightly lit gas station up ahead. I turned sharply into the station. The truck drove past us. Neither of us spoke for a second as we watched it continue through the intersection without stopping.
Gianna exhaled shakily beside me. “Oh my God.”
I made sure it had disappeared before I turned to her. "You alright?" I asked, searching her face.
She nodded. "Are you?"
Reaching over I kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'm good."
She shook her head in disbelief. "This shit is crazy. If that is Boss, I have to get a restraining order or something."
I shook my head slowly. "They won't issue it unless he's done something to you, babe. Right now, we have no proof it's him. And even then…men don’t always respect restraining orders."
"So what—" she lifted her hands and dropped them back on her legs. "I'm just supposed to wait around like some sitting duck for this nigga to do something to me?"