by Sophia Gray
The only thing in there is a newspaper clipping. I carefully pull it out, immediately recognizing it as the article which appeared in the local paper when I took over ownership of the coffee shop. There was a picture of me featured there, smiling in front of the shop, a platter of baked goods in my hand. I’d clipped the article myself, actually, feeling intensely proud. It’s hanging in a frame behind the counter at the shop right now.
But the one in the shop doesn’t have the words DIE, WHORE scrawled across my face.
I lunge for the sink, the contents of my stomach coming up through my mouth before I can think twice. When I finish heaving, I run the water, rinsing my mouth.
He found me. I should have known. He always told me I could never get away from him.
And now he wants me to die.
I scream out loud, the sound startling me. I sound like an animal. A cornered animal. Is he outside, right now, waiting for me? Watching me through the kitchen window? “I hate you!” I scream. “I hate you! Fucking die and leave me alone!” I sink into a chair by the kitchen table, wracked with sobs. He found me; he found me. He wants me to die.
Somewhere in the midst of my sobs, I hear my phone ringing. Oh, my God. Is it him? Was he waiting for me to open his sick little message? I should have known I couldn’t run away. Blocking him wasn’t enough.
I go to the living room, picking up the phone. I expect to see his name there somehow. But it’s not him. It’s Christopher.
“Christopher! Oh, thank God!”
“Whoa. Finally answering your phone? And happy to hear my voice?”
“Christopher, please…!”
“Wait.” He’s serious now. “Are you all right? Jesus, I never thought you might be in trouble.”
“There’s trouble! Yes!” I dissolve into tears again.
“What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m at home. Only…oh, Christopher…I got a clipping in the mail just now. Somebody sent it…I don’t know who but I’m pretty sure it was him.”
“What’s the clipping of?” There’s danger in his voice.
“Me. An announcement that I took over the shop. I don’t know how the hell he got his hands on it.”
“Anything else?”
“It says…over my picture, it says…die, whore.” I’m nearly hysterical now. “Don’t you see? He knows where I live now! How did he find me? What can I do?” I’m doubled over on the couch, rocking back and forth.
“Are your doors locked?”
“Yes, I’m sure of it.”
“Double check for me. Lock the windows, too. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Don’t let anybody in, don’t investigate any noises, don’t do anything until I get there. Okay?”
I’m flooded with relief. He’s coming. He’ll protect me. Thank God.
“Amanda? Do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you. I’ll do what you say.”
“It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I’ll be there soon. Call me if anything else happens.”
I heave a sigh of relief. He’s coming.
I can’t even bother to wonder right now whether I’m really safe with him.
Chapter 21
I pace the house, frantic with worry. I don’t have a single fingernail left at this point, having chewed all of them down to the quick. Still, I’m chewing on what little there is left, hardly noticing the taste of blood in my mouth.
What’s taking Christopher so long? I can’t stand being here alone any longer. This is torture. What did I do to deserve this shit? Every little noise, every sound makes me jump. My house is old; everything creaks. It’s terrifying.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I see lights sweep over the front windows of the living room. I run to the door, flinging it open to him. Christopher hurriedly parks the bike, then walks up the steps to meet me. He’s sweeping the area with his eyes. I manage to wait until he gets through the door before I fall into his arms.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” I’m shaking so hard I can hardly speak, my teeth chattering. I wonder if I’m going into some sort of shock.
“You’re safe. Don’t worry. I’m here.” He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight.
“He knows where I live. He could be here, anywhere. Oh, my God, Christopher…”
“Would it make you feel better if I take a look around?”
“Would you?” I pull away just enough to look up into his eyes. His dark eyes. I’ve missed him so much. I didn’t even realize how much.
“I will.” He’s still holding me, his hand stroking the back of my head soothingly. What was I thinking? He would never hurt me. He never has. He’s so gentle, so sweet. So safe. I melt into him, more grateful than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Do you want to come with me? Or would you rather stay here on the couch?”
“Please, please, let me go with you. Don’t leave me alone.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” He takes me by the hand, leading me from room to room. There isn’t much ground to cover, just a living room, dining room and kitchen on the first floor, then two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second. He checks every closet, every corner, tests every window and door for sturdiness. He even looks in the crawlspace above the upstairs hall, even though I assure him there’s no way a person could hide there. I can’t help smiling shakily when he climbs the ladder to poke his head around up there.
We end our search in the master bedroom, my bedroom. He looks under the bed, in the closet. “Is this it? No other rooms? No basement?” I shake my head. “Then it looks like you’re here alone. Well, with me. But you know what I mean. I’d like to come back at some point, maybe tomorrow if that’s okay, to tighten up the locks on the downstairs windows.”
“I don’t know what to say, except to thank you.” My voice is a whisper. I’m ashamed of myself now, thinking back to how afraid I was of him. Why? How could I have thought he was a danger to me?
“You’re welcome. Amanda, I’m here for you. I only want to be here for you. I want to protect you. Why won’t you let me?”
I can’t answer him right away. I’m overwhelmed. Instead, I cross the short distance between us and wrap my arms around his waist. He takes my chin in his hand, tilting my head back for a kiss.
Soon things heat up, as they seem to always do between us. Now it’s the way I missed him that fuels the fire I feel the moment our lips touch. I’ve missed what he does to my body. To my heart.
Before I know it, we’re falling into bed together, all thoughts of Lucas and Michelle and The Wicked Angels pushed aside for one sweet night.
###
When I open my eyes, it’s morning. The light filtering through the curtains over the bedroom windows is soft, gentle. It must be early, just after dawn.
I close my eyes again, snuggling back under Christopher’s arm. I don’t want the rest of the world anywhere near us right now. Things are perfect just as they are. It seems like our only issues crop up when the outside world sneaks in.
I haven’t felt this good since I left his house, I realize. And definitely not since Lucas first reached out to me online. I shiver at the thought, which makes Christopher stir.
“Mmm…good morning.”
I squeeze him in reply. “Can’t we stay this way forever?” I murmur, my face against his broad chest. My finger traces a line down his torso over that infamous angel surrounded by flames. I wish this thing didn’t exist.
“I know,” he replies, “believe me.” His arm tightens around me, reinforcing his words. I feel strangely happy, even in the midst of the mess I’m in. “Can I ask you something?” I dread his question, knowing what he has in mind. He takes my silence as an invitation to continue. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
I have to sit up, put a little distance between us. Besides, I want to look him in the eye. I need to know if I can get the truth from him. “This is hard for me to say.”
“I probably know what it is.” He sits up, back to the headboard.
“You do?”
“We couldn’t go on forever without you knowing who I really am. You were bound to figure out sometime. My name’s not exactly unknown. And it’s not a favorite.”
“I’m sorry. I was so scared. I mean, look at it from my point of view. I don’t know you—not really, I mean. All I find online about you is the sort of stuff the club’s been involved in. And then…well, yes. People talk. There are a lot of rumors. I know you know what they are.” I’m trying to be delicate, wanting to avoid hurting him. He’s been so good to me. “I feel like such an ass,” I admit. “Especially after everything you did for me last night. Coming here when I was so, so afraid. I can’t believe I even considered the rumors were true. But can you blame me? All the shit with Lucas? It’s practically reflexive now, believing men are out to hurt me.”
“I’m sure it was a shock to you,” Christopher acknowledges. “And you can probably imagine why I didn’t tell you my full name and life history when we were together.”
“I guess.”
“Amanda, you tried to storm out just because I insulted your baking.”
“Point taken.”
“Either way, there was one thing you could have done to clear up all the shit you were worried about. You could have asked me. Where’s the girl who gave me a raft of shit over the stupidest things back at my house? I imagined you tearing me a new one over this.”
“Christopher. This is bigger than you being a jerk.” We both fall silent. I’m fidgeting, playing with the blanket, trying to avoid his eyes. “I have to ask you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Christopher, please.”
“No. That will have to be enough for you.”
I sigh, exasperated. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. But if we’re going to go anywhere, you and I, I have to ask for at least a little honesty.”
“You want honesty?”
I look up at him, his eyes are even darker than usual. Like a shark. He’s fuming.
“I want to know you trust me. How’s that sound? I want you to trust me enough to know that no matter what the story is, I’m on your side.”
His jaw is clenching and unclenching as he decides what to say. Finally, he sighs and lets loose. “I didn’t have anything to do with Michelle’s death.”
Thank God. I release my breath in a sigh of relief. “Who did?”
“You’ll have to leave it at that. I won’t say any more about it. Just drop it now, okay?”
I’m sure it’s painful for him to talk about, especially when so many people think he did it. That probably makes it even worse. “Okay. No more questions.”
“Thank you.” His expression and tone change. “Now, about this asshole who’s stalking you.” I flinch visibly, practically jumping off the bed. He takes my hand. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. I just want to be sure you’re taken care of, that’s all. I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear.”
I want to believe him. I do believe him, at least for the most part. But that belief comes with curiosity. “What would you do to him?”
His eyes go nearly black. “A lot of things.”
“Christopher…I don’t want to believe you’re that kind of man.”
He nearly sneers at me. “I told you I didn’t kill my wife. I never said I’m not that kind of man.”
I shiver, pulling the blankets tight around my naked body. “You’re freaking me out a little bit.”
A frown. “I didn’t mean to. But I am serious about this. I’ll do what needs to be done. Maybe it’s best to leave that alone, too.”
I can’t lie to myself. Part of me is secretly thrilled at the thought of a man wanting to do anything, absolutely anything, to protect me. It’s a turn-on. Maybe there’s something wrong with me for liking it. Maybe I’ve been hurt for too long and am too afraid. Either way, I don’t completely hate what he’s hinting at.
What will it take for his hints to become reality?
Chapter 22
“Your feed is a total mess.”
“What?” I’m walking down the stairs, just having gotten out of the shower. I told Christopher to feel free to look through the messages Lucas sent via Facebook while I did. I don’t have anything to hide from him.
“Your social media feed. Do you click on every ad that comes your way?”
I sit down beside him, drawing my feet up beneath me. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“That would explain all the sponsored posts and crappy surveys.” He points to the screen. “Who’s your ideal movie boyfriend? For real?”
I blush, laughing at myself. “Whatever. It’s all for fun. Besides, when I see so many of them, I can’t help but be pulled in every once in a while.”
“Exactly, which is why so many show up in your feed. Because you click on them.”
“Jeez—and I thought Lucas was the one stalking me. Turns out it’s an algorithm.” I shoot Christopher a dirty look. “Why are you always so critical of the things I do? Your way isn’t always the best way, you know. Some people rest easier knowing who their boyfriend would be in a movie.”
“I guess when your actual boyfriend was a piece of shit…” He sees me wince. “Sorry. That was low.”
“Not untrue, though.” I lean forward, toward the computer. “I guess you’ve read through everything?”
“Yeah, and I’ve counted to ten around a dozen times just to keep my temper under control.” He scrolls through the messages. “Who the fuck does this? I wish he’d get on right now and try some shit like this.”
“That wouldn’t be a good idea, and you know it. Besides, I blocked his ass.”
“Good girl. You’re learning.”
“Yeah, at the time I thought that was the only way left for him to reach me. Stupid me.” I think back to the clipping, the sick feeling in my stomach when I pulled it from the envelope and the truth hit me all at once. He knows where I live. He wants me dead.
“You got this in the mail?” Christopher is holding the clipping in his hands. I can’t help but notice how they’re shaking. It’s not fear, though.
“Yeah, in this envelope.” I hand it to him. He inspects the postmark.
“Texas. Is he from Texas?”
“We went to school there. We were living there together before I left.”
“I guess he stuck around, then. And that’s all that was in the envelope? Just this clipping?”
I nod. “But it’s obviously from him.”
“Sure, unless you know somebody else in Texas who would send something like this.”
I shake my head. I’m biting my nonexistent nail again. He moves closer to wrap his arms around me.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must have felt when you opened that.”
“I thought I’d die. I really did. He knows where I live. Not just the town. The address. All of it rushed at me all at once. He found me. And he wants me dead now.”
Christopher’s arms tighten. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. If he were in front of me right now…”
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry. And I know you don’t want to hear this.” He pulls away from me, looking down at me with great seriousness. “In my world, the world I lived in for a long time, one of the worst things a man can do is be violent toward a woman. Only cowards do that. It’s part of our code. Never hurt women.”
I can’t help but think of Michelle as he’s saying this, though I stay mum.
“After all that conditioning, you can imagine how hard it is for me to hear the things he’s done to you. And to see the evidence of how batshit crazy he is. Jesus.” His arms tighten ever so slightly. “On top of it all, you’re not just any woman. You’re you. He’s doing this to you. You deserve better than that. He won’t ruin your life any more than he already has. That I promise you.”
I snuggle against him again. “Thank you.”
I need to believe him.
###
I call out of work, giving Carly an e
xcuse about feeling under the weather. It’s a weekday morning, which, aside from the pre-nine o’clock rush, is generally dull. I have complete faith in her. Not for the first time do I count my blessings for Carly, knowing I owe her so much.
The fact is there’s no way I could go to the shop today. My mind wouldn’t be on the work. I would most likely cost myself a lot of money, burning everything I tried to bake, giving customers the wrong change, throwing away mixed-up drink orders.
