The bed is big, the sheets are cold when I slide under them, even though my body’s still warm from the shower.
It takes a while to settle. Every small creak in the pipes, every hum of the fridge, every wind-blown branch tapping the window makes my pulse jump.
What if he’s out there?
My heart pounds harder with the thought, and I pull the blanket up to my chin.
The alarm is on. I’m safe here, I saw the cameras. I’m safe.
I repeat that to myself, over and over, until sleep finally comes.
I wake up at two in the afternoon with the ring at the door.
Still half asleep, I throw on the hoodie Viviana got me and rush over, pressing the camera button.
A delivery man stands there with two boxes, so I buzz him in when he shows the label with my name.
Did Kian send my stuff through a courier or something?
“Miss Autumn?” he asks, clipboard out. “Sign here, please.”
I scribble my name and take the boxes inside.
“Who sent it?” I ask as I close the door.
“Mister Flynn Brady,” he says, already heading down the stairs.
I lock the door and just stand there.
Flynn?
I stare at the boxes like they might explode. Why would he—
I open the first one and stop breathing.
It’s a camera. Not just a camera, butthecamera, the one I used to stalk online. A Canon R5, full-frame, mirrorless, professional-grade.
My heart’s already pounding when I slice open the second box to see a MacBook Pro.
He’s insane. I can’t accept this. I need it, but—
No.
I grab my phone. I still have him blocked, but all my contacts carried over when Viviana set up the new one. I type out the message anyway.
I can’t take this.
Three minutes pass and his reply appears.
Flynn:Yes you can. And you will.
My fingers clench. That arrogant shithead. He really thinks he can just tell me what to do.
No, I can’t. I’m sending it back.
Flynn:Then I’ll show up at your place and make sure it stays, and trust me, you don’t want that, trouble.
Oh no.
