Hunted.
The nightmarish concept had caused me to run a red light, to be ten minutes late for work, to almost forget to purchase milk at the store, and had kept me completely awake for four nights in a row. At some point, I’d start hallucinating.
I had my reasons.
They all involved a real-life monster who’d managed to crawl from his locked cage.
A slight rumble could easily be heard through the thin panes of glass. Yet even though they’d begun to frighten me by taking away all sense of control, my attention was caught by the swirling dark clouds fighting the lingering early twilight for dominance.
Fearful the lights would go out given the weather forecast, I’d already dragged out my flashlight. There was nothing worse than being caught in a pitch-black world.
Whenever that happened, I was hauled back to the horrific, vivid dreams plaguing every night. I’d even begun to sleep with a light on.
While the television was on, it offered little comfort. I was exhausted, hungry, and antsy. Those days had begun to outnumber the few good ones. Even eating had become too toxic.
Why? Because with a single phone call from Jasmine Guthrie, an attorney with the prosecutor’s office, my nightmare had returned in full force. My God. I couldn’t live this way every day of my life. Then Bruno had to call. Did I piss karma off in some horrible way?
Forcing myself to pull further away from the window, I grabbed my glass of wine and headed to Bella’s cracked door, pushing it open with a single finger. Thankfully, I had a slight sense of peace once I did. I could watch her sleeping all night, the little angel the best thing that had ever happened to me.
With the starry effect the light on her nightstand gave off, I often wondered if she had dreams of a handsome prince carrying her off on a perfect white steed to his kingdom. Maybe so, but at not quite four she was a little young for fantastical dreams. Maybe instead she was dreaming of teddy bears and stuffed kitties. Two of her favorites.
Speaking of which, in her sleep she’d tossed her favorite bear to the floor. That just wouldn’t do. Very little awakened my daughter except if she sensed her bear was missing. As I crouched down to snag it, I studied Bella’s features. Thank God she had my nose. Brushing hair from her face, I was amazed she could sleep through anything.
A clap of thunder brought a slight whimper and I had to bite back a laugh. My little girl wasn’t scared of anything, but her mother was terrified of storms. Talk about an example to set.
I nuzzled the bear into her arms, tugging the covers up just a little higher. What a little sleeping beauty.
Satisfied if not hopeful she’d sleep the night away, I backed away only to hear my phone ringing. Instantly, I thought about Bruno, quickly reminding myself that it wasn’t possible. Unless he also had a burner phone. Goddamn the asshole. Yet what if it wasn’t him? What if…
I managed to catch the call on the third ring and without spilling wine all over myself. However, as soon as I looked at the screen, I started shaking, driven into the worst moment of my life all over again. Immediately, I tossed the phone on the table, backing away as if it was on fire, still staring at the screen.
Expecting another call, I suddenly couldn’t stand the quiet. I moved toward the television, doing all I could to keep from experiencing an anxiety attack.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Count to ten.
One. Two. Three.
I’d had a couple of attacks in the first few months, but they’d died down since the horrible fuck of a monster had been sent to prison. Now, everything had changed. I suddenly felt as if I was suffocating.
I’d cheered when I’d heard the news. Guilty on all counts. I’d hoped for the death penalty, which was legal in the state ofFlorida. How he’d managed to only get life in prison I wouldn’t know, but even that had failed.
I was reminded of that as soon as the news came on. When his face popped across the screen, I grew sick to my stomach. In every photograph I’d seen he’d been expressionless.
Yet his eyes were marked with the deepest sense of depravity I’d ever witnessed. The same eyes as I’d seen on a horrible dark night months before.
Shuddering, with my nerves already on edge, I smashed my finger on the off button. But the damn television wouldn’t cut off. Anger rushed to the surface and I squeezed the hunk of plastic, cursing under my breath. When it still didn’t go off, I smashed it on the television stand.
Batteries flew from the back, slamming against the wall.
At least I didn’t need to look at his ugly face any longer.
Turning around, I concentrated on the wine, closing my eyes and going to my personal happy place. I’d read about the little trick online. Finding a place that made me happy would break the cycle of terror. I hoped whoever had written the shit hadn’t gotten paid because I was a ball of nerves.
When I was finally able to breathe, I allowed the death grip on the glass to fade, even managing to set it down.
The phone not only rang but vibrated, skipping slightly across the table. My eyes flew open. Another wave of even more powerful rage skipped right past the fear ebbing close to the surface.
