However, other than that, the moment was calm. My life felt beautifully ordinary and sweet and safe, and it made me happier than any time I’d spent on the set of the show.
I was just thinking how I knew for certain I’d made the right decision walking away from acting when the doorbell rang.
The hair on my neck rose. Attempting to tell myself my reaction was based on Cameron’s behavior and nothing else, I tapped on the wall-mounted security panel before the entrance hall. It was connected to the camera outside.
What the … It was Peter. My landlord.
I hadn’t had many dealings with Peter in person. I reckoned he was in his early forties. Kind of nondescript, dressed casually but drove a flashy car. I remembered seeing him pull away from the apartment building in an Aston Martin Vantage. A neighbor had told me Peter owned a ton of real estate and was super well off. He’d always been kind and amiable to me. Though I’d heard he was ruthless when it came to rent. He didn’t give people many chances. You didn’t pay your rent on time, you were out.
I always paid my rent on time so we never had issues. If there was a maintenance problem with the flat, he’d come to speak to me about it directly if I was home, but that was it.
What the hell was he doing here? And at Fyfe’s?
That instinct that had risen the hair on the back of my neck had me pressing the speaker button on the security system instead of opening the door.
“Peter? It’s Eilidh. What are you doing here?”
“Eilidh, luv, thank goodness I found you. We got a big problem. Didn’t want to take the chance calling you in case my phone was tapped. I know who’s been watching you. Can you let me in?”
My heart thumped hard. “How … how did you know where to find me?”
“I was round your mum’s. Explained everything. She told me where to find you.”
Mum hadn’t called to warn me. And Mum wasn’t home today. She was at the daycare.
Finger trembling, I pressed down the speaker button again. “I’m sorry, Peter. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Why don’t I meet you at the Gloaming this evening at five o’clock with Fyfe?”
“We don’t have time for that, luv. We’re both in real fucking danger here.” I could hear the edge in his voice. “Please let me in to explain.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
I released the speaker button and stepped back to stare at the door. There were frosted glass panels on either side, and I saw the shadow of his movement. I couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in my ears.
I think my body knew before my mind had even caught up.
I’d just turned in search of my phone when a noise blasted through the house. A shattering so loud, it startled Millie out of sleep. Her wails echoed off the walls.
Gasping in fright, I spun toward the front door and saw glass shards from one of the side panels shattered all over the floor. There were pieces at my feet and as my hair fell over my shoulder, I saw tiny shards glisten on the strands.
Pete knocked away bits of glass still stuck to the frame and then squeezed his tall body in through the gap. His once bland, unassuming expression was contorted with furious determination. His dark eyes gleamed with hunger as they dragged down my body and back up again.
“I’ve missed you, luv.”
Millie’s cries tugged me toward her, but as I took a step in her direction, Pete warned, “Go near that baby, and I’ll kill her.”
I froze in horror, gaping at him, trying to make sense of the bizarre turn of events. It was like I’d been drugged and was in the middle of a frightening hallucination. It didn’t seem real. “What’s going on?”
His expression switched so quickly, it was unnerving. Menace melted to pleading. “I tried to forget you, Eilidh. Once you were gone. I tried so hard that I was stupid enough not to remove the cameras.” He took a step toward me as sick realization dawned. “I loved watching you.” He spoke calmly, like he wasn’t admitting to violating my privacy. “I’ve loved watching you from the moment you walked into my life. For years, it was enough just to watch.”
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Limbs trembling, I took a shaky step back toward the kitchen.
For years, this man whom I’d only known as my landlord, whom I’d never suspected of creeping on me, had violated my privacy every day.
“We have to move quickly.” Still, he spoke as if we were talking of everyday things. “I’ve been watching for days, and I know this house is rigged with a security system that will have alerted the kid’s father. We need to leave now.”
“If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you sick fucking bastard, you have another thing coming.” Because something had flipped in him. Whatever had been holding him back before (probably the access to seeing me whenever he wanted), it no longer existed. And if I let him take me, I wouldn’t walk away from the situation.
I knew it deep in my bones.
