Her head tilted in question, “What have you ever failed? I’ve looked into your background, and it’s beyond stellar.”
“I failed a lot of people,” I mumbled. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
“You can talk to me,” she insisted.
“I don’t want to talk about it with anyone, okay?” I snapped, my voice defensive. It wasn’t fair to take it out on her, but I couldn’t voice the nightmares that haunted me. It would make them even more real… even more painful.
Bec raised her hands in surrender, her blue eyes wide, “I’m sorry. I won’t pry.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face and groaned, “No… no, I’m sorry.” I slumped into my chair. “PTSD is no joke,” I mumbled.
I hated that I had these moments. I wanted to always be the fun-loving Rome everyone knew and preferred. But the years inthe Army and the years afterward… all I had done, all I had failed…it stuck with me in ways that I didn’t expect.
I was usually a master at stuffing it all down and not letting those around me see it. I never wanted to add to their worries. The more time went on, though, the more often I found myself snapping.
“Were you officially diagnosed?”
I nodded, “I was while on active duty. My best friend needed therapy… desperately. But he would only go if I did too, which worked out, I guess. I was officially diagnosed with PTSD, and unfortunately it only got worse until retirement.”
“Why didn't you retire earlier?”
I sighed and held back the urge to snap again. I didn’t want to talk about this, but I knew Bec didn’t deserve my anger. “I didn’t want to leave my team.”
She nodded while contemplating. “Are you still close to the rest of the team? There are two who are still alive, right?”
“Do we really need to dive into this right now?” I snapped…again.
Bec eyed me cautiously. I assumed she was unsure of how to deal with me when I was in this state. I stood quickly to leave, wanting to get out of here before I snapped again, but Andi came rushing in before I could leave.
Her head was down, focused on a stack of papers in her hands. “Ms. Bly, you got another one of those notes. I still think you need to inform…” Her words were cut off as she ran directly into my body, the papers scattering around us, “Mr. Cipriani.”
“Shit,” Bec groaned from her seat.
“It’s fine.” I waved it off and began gathering the scattered papers around us. “What do I need to be informed of?” I asked Andi.
She stared at me with wide eyes and simply pointed to one of the notes in the pile. This particular note was in a crispwhite envelope, showing no signs it had gone through the typical postal system. There was also no return address.
“What is this?” I asked as I carefully peeled open the envelope.
Neither Andi nor Bec spoke, but Bec did glare daggers at Andi… which was strange, since that look was usually reserved for me.
My heart dropped as I pulled a paper out from inside the envelope. It was a letter, the contents of which were complete gibberish.
“Bec?” I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous tone.
She took a steadying breath and pulled open one of the drawers on her desk. I stepped around the back and saw that it was filled with dozens more of these notes.
Immediately enraged, I demanded, “What the fuck is going on here?”
Andi jumped at my harsh words and scurried out of the office.
“Look what you’ve done!” Bec complained, “She’s going to have nightmares now.”
“Bec,” I growled, “tell me what these are. Now.”
“I don’t know,” she exclaimed. “Okay? I have no idea. They began showing up a few months ago. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, I got my first stalker when I was three years old. I flagged it with the security downstairs, but they kept coming. And coming. And coming.”
I reopened the note from today. There were random letters and punctuation throughout, but none of which made any sensible words or sentences.
