“Okay. We’ll plan something later.”
“Alright. Bye.”
She hangs up, and I’m left staring at nothing.
The silence that follows isn’t peaceful. It’s dense, heavy, creeping around the edges and settling over me like a fog I can’t push through.
I should be thinking about the letters. The masked man. The possibility that he’s still out there. But my mind doesn’t go there. It goes somewhere worse.
It goes tohim.
The monster. The ghost. The devil incarnate. The man who’s found a way to slither under my skin, leaving pieces of himself there like splinters I can’t dig out.
And buried under all that, a dark, treacherous part of me wants to know exactly what he’ll do when he finally decides to take what he wants…and how long he’ll make me beg for it.
CHAPTER SIX
FIONA
The humof dryers and the faint chemical scent of hair dye wrap around me. My stylist, Marlene, waves me over to her station with that same warm smile she’s worn since I first sat in her chair.
Dropping into the seat, I set my purse on my lap, the latest anonymous note still clutched in my hand. I meant to tuck it away before coming inside, but my mind’s been running in circles, turning over the same questions, unable to shake the thought that there could be someone else watching me.
Marlene glances down at my hand, tilting her head, her bright red hair flipping over her shoulder. “What’s that?”
I slide the note into my purse, and shrug. “Just a note from someone.”
A dark brow lifts with a playful glint in her eyes. “Ooh. Secret admirer?”
A short laugh slips out before I can help it. “More like a psychopath.”
She chuckles like it’s a joke, twisting a lock of my hair between her fingers. “They’re all psychopaths, honey.”
She’s not wrong about that.
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “How are your parents doing?”
The question sinks my mood even more.
“Still the same.”
She shakes her head. “My God. They’re such good people. I hate that this is happening to them.” Picking up a large comb, she runs it through my strands. “You think they’re going to sell the place?”
As I shake my head, my emotions overwhelm me. “I really hope not. It would break their hearts. They’ve built that vineyard from nothing. That placeisthem. I just…” My throat tightens. “I wish I could do something to help. But I don’t have that kind of money.”
If they don’t pay the mortgage soon, it’s over.
She pins half of my hair up, working with efficient hands as she sprays a bit of water over the other sections, then grabs a pair of scissors. “Are they trying to find some investors? Maybe someone with fresh ideas would be good.”
“Yeah, they’re actively looking now.” I glance at my reflection, forcing a smile.
“That’s good. I’m sure it will work out. Tell your mom I said hi, will ya? Haven’t seen her stop by in a while.”
“She’s cutting back on expenses.”
Marlene nods, sympathy swelling in her irises.
The rest of the appointment passes in easy small talk, but the note in my purse is like a ticking clock against my thigh.
