You'd Be Paranoid Too Book Novels & Stories

Peanuts stayed pressed tight to my leg, his leash short in my grip, and I could feel the tension in his body mirroring mine. My skin prickled. Every rustle of trash in the gutter, every distant siren, every slow-rolling car made my pulse jump. The paranoia settled in my chest like cold sludge. Screw this. I couldn’t keep walking forever. My ribs were already screaming, my head throbbed, and the streets were getting too empty for comfort. I’d risk the last of my cash on an Uber. Even a short ride to somewhere less sketchy would buy me time to think.

I moved slightly closer to the door without making it obvious, or trying not to make it obvious, and he noticed, and his smile widened in a way I caught in my peripheral vision and chose not to acknowledge. An hour passed. Then most of another. I kept telling myself the same things in rotation. That I was being paranoid. That I was insecure. That Fabian was right and Paige was right and I was reading significance into things that had none because I had been primed by years of this family to expect the worst and I needed to stop. I was mid-rotation when the black car shot past.

I debated whether to take a taxi, but I can't trust anyone, not until some time has passed. We walked away, I can't help the paranoia, the suspicion that they are following us, the feeling of being watched, I swear I will go crazy, but I control that part of me that was unhinged by what I experienced, I turn it off and continue with our day. Zion was starting to worry about my overprotective behavior, he was a child, he didn't deserve to get involved in this ordeal.

“What were you doing there if you weren’t listening in?” “I was coming to ask you something,” she said. “And yeah, I heard some of what you were saying. But I wasn’t standing there with a notepad or recording decice or anything. I wasn’t spying. I didn’t take notes like your real spies do. I don't even have a phone to record because of you!" "You need to stop thinking that everyone’s out to get you just because a few of your people turned on you. That’s not my fault. That’s your fear. Your paranoia. That’s your problem. Not mine.”

“Then trust your gut, Elena. It’s a powerful thing. It’s led you through worse.” I swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in my throat. “I just… I don’t want to be paranoid. But something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Mari gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Paranoia is fear without cause. But you, my dear, have cause. Be careful. People who act too nice are often the ones you need to watch the most.” I thanked her quietly, gave her a brief hug, and left the room with a storm brewing in my chest.

Call ended. I didn’t breathe for nearly a full minute. My chest locked, my mind running faster than I could catch. Every doubt, every fear collided into one deafening certainty: Jalen and Richard were working together, and I was the liability. The obsession. The loose thread. My own paranoia screaming through the comms, clawing at me, whispering that maybe Jalen hadn’t saved me back then—maybe he’d been playing the long game all along.

He was gone. I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty street, glancing at Amy’s house, Chad and Joe’s house, back to the spot where I saw the figure. Maybe I imagined it? After everything that happened with Antonio, paranoia felt like a reasonable explanation. Our lives had been chaotic for so long that quiet, almost felt unnatural. Still, something about the way he stood there made my skin crawl. I turned away from the window and walked toward the couch, carefully lowering myself down while Arias slept peacefully against my chest.

A loud click followed by a flashing green light came from the safe. "They didn't." Breyona shrugged, giving Mason a cocky grin. "Mom's horrible with remembering numbers. She used to forget Dad's birthday all the time." Mason and I waited withheld breath as Breyona opened the thick safe. An exhale of breath came from Mason’s lips as we locked eyes on the only book sitting in the safe. “One book?” Mason scoffed, shaking out his sandy blonde hair. “An entire safe for one book.” “Like I said, my parents are paranoid.” Breyona shrugged, her hands gentle as she lifted the book into her arms. “Plus, this book is probably priceless.”

"In that case, I think the pizza can wait." End of Book One: Incendiary

He notices my odd behavior and inquires. “What’s wrong?” he asks “Nothing, it’s just earlier I had something weird happen, I could have been attacked. A very handsome man who looked Italian but very pale stalked me at the restaurant I was in. I feel like if my Uber hadn’t of shown up, I wouldn’t have made it to the club to meet you. I guess I am just being paranoid. I feel watched right now.” I told him. His face instantly became pissed off at what I just told him.