He leans over my shoulder, a smile relaxing his face. “Oh, look! It’s one of those bears that talks. Push the paw and see what it says.”
I’m expecting the bear to say something cute like, ‘you’re amazing’ or ‘world’s best daughter’ or ‘I miss you beary much.’
Not. Even. Close.
Chills crawl down my spine as deranged circus music crackles through the speaker, every distorted note twisting through the air. I freeze, ridiculously waiting for a car full of clowns to drive through my apartment, forcing me to rock back on my heels. Then the bear blinks. It fuckingblinks. I sneak a glance at Jordan, his eyes matching my horrified state. His fingers tighten around my waist as a deep voice curls around us.
“Roses are red, violets are blue, stay away from Boucher, or I’ll come for you.”
As if that wasn’t already scary as hell, the arms start swinging up and down, and we both scream like little girls.
I grab the bear, balloon in tow, and slam it on the floor, violently stomping it to death and popping the balloon with my shoe as Jordan screams louder, covering his eyes. I grab a pan out of the cabinet and continue smashing the shit out of the stuffed animal from hell until the music crawls to a stop.
“Is it…is it dead?” he squeaks, his hand on my shoulder, peering around to see if the bear was silenced.
“Yeah.” I let out a relieved sigh before whirling around and pointing the pan at the scaredy cat in question. “Jordan, what the fuck was that? Why is someone telling me to stay away from you?”
“First of all, can wepleaseget rid of the deranged Build-A-Bear? It’s looking at me.”
I blink. “Are you seriously scared of a stuffed bear?”
“Well,that onefor sure!” He tiptoes forward, leaning for a closer look before shivering and scurrying back to the safety that’s, apparently, behind me. “My sisters had one of those talking bears with the cassette tape that read you stories, and they used to scare the shit out of me with it. I was convinced it was going to come to life and eat me in my sleep! You would have thought having older sisters would be a lot of hair and make-up experiments, and while it was some of that, my sisters loved torturing me with stories about dolls killing me in my sleep. So,excuse meif I don’t want that damn bear staring at me while we talk.”
I smirk. This man tried to protect me from a murderer, but he is also scared of a talking bear. It’s surprisingly adorable. “If I put it in the trash, will that make you feel better?”
“Yes! Please. Thank you.” He sighs, his facial expression relaxing.
I set the pan down in exchange for a pair of kitchen tongs, not wanting to touch this damn thing either, and throw it in the trash can. Just as I’m ready to grill him about what the hell is going on, my eye catches a glimmer across the room like a shooting star in the night sky. My breath catches in my chest as I remember that half the things in my apartment could be from this person. A pit forms in my stomach. “Oh my God. The other gifts…are they from this creep too?”
He pipes up quickly. “I think the wordcreepmay be a bit harsh.”
“Jordan!” I spit out, digging through the junk drawers in my kitchen. “You just hid in a corner from a stuffed animal. I think creep is a fitting description for the person sending me this stuff!” I move to the next drawer. “I know I have a hammer here somewhere,” I mutter to myself.
“Did you say a hammer?”
I dart my gaze to him, his eyes wide with fear.I guess I was louder than I thought.
“Yes.” I continue rummaging through the drawers of random crap, desperate to find it. One would think someone with a job requiring my level of precision and focus would be completely organized at home. Not me. I don’t get paid to be organized here.
“Um…what do you need it for?” Jordan asks, his voice shaky.
“Ah ha! Here it is,” I shout in triumph, walking over to the stupidly giant diamond-encrusted leopard.
“Kennedy? What are you…oh shit! What are you doing?”
“I need to crack open this leopard to see if there’s something fucked up inside. I’ve beendyingfor an excuse to break this thing.” I raise the hammer over my head, my tongue sticking out of the corner of my mouth, aiming right for the head of th?—
“STOP! Don’t hurt Neil!” he shouts.
I freeze mid-swing, my gaze snapping to him. “Who the fuck is Neil?”
“Neil. Neil Diamond.” He gestures toward the monstrosity before me. “The leopard.”
I shake my head as I blink.What the fuck is happening here?“His name is Neil?!”
Jordan rubs the back of his neck. “My parents are big Neil Diamond fans, okay? I know every song by heart.”
“Okay…I’m not surprised by that. What I am surprised about is how the hell you know this leopard’s name,” I say, my brows narrowing, my mouth hanging open in shock.
