Chapter 21
Bees and Murder
BRIGIT
My phone pings with a text almost immediately after I walk in the door from lunch with Janet, only seconds after I kick my boots off.
unknown:
You looked beautiful last night.
What the fuck?
Who is this?
A sharp thrill runs up my spine. I haven’t seen or heard from him since I returned his jacket.
Not that I washopingto or anything.
Wait.
I haven’t seen or heard from him since I returned his jacket.
…
We didn’t see each other last night.
Well…
You may not have seen me, but I definitely saw you.
Before I have a chance to respond to whatever the fuck that means, another message comes through, this one a dark picture, taken through some kind of horizontal hole.
And— that’s my bedroom. That’s me lying in my bed, facing away from the camera, barely fucking dressed in a soft nightgown that leaves quite literallynothingto the imagination.
This motherfucker.
You didn’t actually think you could keep me out, did you?
Come outside.
No.
Come outside… please?
NO
Fine.
Come outside or I’ll climb up there and fucking make you.
I can't decide if I want to refuse and see if he'll make good on that threat, or if I'm curious enough about whatever he wants to do as he says.
What am I thinking? Of course, I shouldn't do as he says.
He just sent me undeniable proof that he not only broke in, but spent god knows how long watching me last night.
Only by luck was it yesterday he broke in and not the day before, when he might have caught me in a vulnerable moment, leaving me in an incredibly awkward position of having to explain to him thatno,I did not call out his name when I made myself come.
