I just signed her death warrant.
SHIT.
My stalker freezes. A whimper leaves me. The vibrator is tossed across the room.
“Wait, I didn’t mean—”
She thrusts her hand under my jaw and shoves me harshly into the mattress. Her fingernails dig so hard into my cheeks that I swear they’re going to bruise.
“What…the fuck… did you just call me?” she hisses.
I swallow and shake my head. “Nothing,” I manage. “I didn’t. I didn’t say anything.”
She jerks my head back, making me gasp when the heel of her palm presses into my throat.
“We’ll see about that, rockstar.”
Her weight alleviates from my legs, and I immediately begin to panic.
“Wait—no—don’t. She hasn’t… I mean, you can’t—”
However my front door closes without another word, and I wish I could scream into a pillow.
Fucking hell.
I can’t see shit. Can’t move my arms. My legs.
“Ugh—stupid Bonnie!” I curse myself. I groan and slam my head against the mattress.
“Fuck. Sally, call Zeb,” I say out loud, hoping to fuck my phone is still beside the bed like I think it is.
“Calling Zeb,” it says back.
Oh thank fuck.
“Bon? You okay?” Zeb answers on the fourth ring, his voice sleepy.
“I need a favor,” I reply.
God, this is embarrassing.
“At… two AM?”
“Yep.”
He chuckles. “Okay. What’s up?”
“Do you still have the spare key I gave you last week?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to come over,” I tell him. “I need you to come over, and when you get here, I don’t want to hear a single word about… what you see. And you can’t tell anyone.”
“Kinda scaring me,” he says. “What exactly am I walking into? Rogue foam party? You take a dump on someone? Murder scene?”
“What—No, dude. You think I’m into defecating on people?” I ask, bewildered.
“I don’t judge,” he says. “So, it’s a body then?”
