“When?”
“Yeah, brave girl. When? I’d like to see you again, if okay with you,” he said softly. “No pressure, Amy.”
“Why? I’m a wreck.”
“Because even in a mess, you’re strong, courageous, beautiful, funny, and sweet.”
“Wow, you got all that from the few times we’ve met?” I asked, shocked. Vortex continued to surprise me. Natasha would have loved how he kept me off guard. Sadness swept over me, but I pushed it aside as I selfishly waited for Vortex’s answer.
“Yes, all that and more. And how you handle things in an emergency says a lot about a person’s personality. Despite your shock, pain, and grief, you continued battling, Amy.”
I stared at Vortex, lost for words. He smiled and kissed my forehead gently. “Everything is raw for you right now. I’m happy to be a friend and let this grow over time, if you’re interested. Shh—don’t answer me yet. Think about it. Walk me out, brave girl, and lock the door behind me.”
Like a lamb, I followed Vortex to the front door, and he gave me a brief hug before letting himself out.
“Locks, Amy,” his voice filtered through the barrier between us. I snapped my locks into place, and his boots clumped down the stairs. Moments later, a Harley roared and pulled out of the car park.
For the first time since the crash, I had a genuine smile on my lips.
???
I blinked awake and frowned. It was pitch black outside, so I wondered what had disturbed me. As I stared into the darkness, my eyes adjusted, and I peered around my bedroom. Something had woken me.
Confused, I climbed out of bed and padded to the door, which stood open. Ever since Natasha had forced me to binge-watch horror movies, I never slept with it shut. I was absolutely terrified of waking in the middle of the night and having someone creepily open the bedroom door.
I listened carefully, but everything seemed as it should until I heard the scrape. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as goosebumps erupted along my arms. I cocked my head, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. The noise returned, and this time I left the bedroom and padded across the living room. The scratching noises became louder as I paused in the small hallway leading to the front door.
Without hesitation, I ran quietly back to my bedroom and grabbed a baseball bat I kept by the bed. I picked up my phone and hit the dial button.
“Hello?” a sleepy voice answered.
“Papa! Someone is trying to get into the apartment,” I cried softly.
“Amy?”
“Vortex?”
“You dialled the wrong number. Hang up, call the police, I’m riding,” Vortex ordered now, sounding awake.
“I…”
“Do as you’re told.” Vortex hung up, and I quickly hit nine-one-one. The operator informed me to remain on the line and assured me someone was coming. She asked if I had cameras, and I said no.
“Stay in your bedroom, officers are on their way,” she instructed.
Minutes ticked past, and then the scraping noise stopped. Every so often, the operator checked to see if I was still present. Tense and worried, I finally heard footsteps running, and then blue lights flashed in my window.
“The police are here!” I gasped.
“Stay on the line and wait for them to introduce themselves,” the operator ordered. I did as she said, and once I’d identified the officers, I thanked her and hung up. It had taken them fifteen minutes to arrive. As I was inviting them in, I was relieved to see Vortex appear, taking the stairs two at a time.
He swept me into a hug and then held me at arm’s length to check me over.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. The police just got here.”
“Good.” Vortex started walking us back inside, but something caught my eye.
