Echo…
Yes?
You broke into my apartment.
You left the door open for me.
I stare at the screen and my eye twitches. So I did open it last night after all.
No, I didn’t.
Did you find them?
I look up at the bouquet, then back at my phone.
Obviously.
And?
I press my lips together and glare at the flowers again, searching for an answer hidden somewhere in their petals.
I should just throw them away. Knowing him, he probably laced the ribbon with some kind of neurotoxin. Either that, or he purposely left the thorns on it to force me to take part in some twisted blood bond with him.
I didn’t want these.
Idon’twant these.
Don’t do that again.
His reply is instant.
Lock your door, and I won’t be able to.
I exit our text thread and toss my phone onto the mattress.
Then I get up, walk to the kitchen, and spend a genuinely embarrassing amount of time looking for the right vase. I fill it with water, carry it back to my room, and put the flowers in it.
They really are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dahlia
Echo has visitedme every night this week.
I wish I could say I’m outraged by this. Hell, I wish I could even say I’m surprised. But I’m the one who keeps leaving the door unlocked for him, like some kind of fucked-up invitation I can’t stop extending.
Every morning I wake up to evidence that he was in my private space. A missing hair tie. The book on my nightstand shifted into a different position. A replacement bouquet so that the flowers he gave me never wilt, which would be a ridiculously romantic gesture, if I weren’t sure he’s only doing it to fuck with me.
He always does little things that make me question my sanity. Like he’s trying to see how long it’ll take for me to lose my mind completely. Turns out it’s six days.
Six days of him watching me while I sleep and not doing a single thing about it. I don’t know what I expected. No, that’s a lie. I know exactly what I expected, even if I’m not ready to admit it to him.
After six nights of waking up with proof that my stalker was close enough to touch me and still chose not to, I’m done waiting.
Tonight, Echo will give me exactly what I want, and I won’t have to say a single word.
Since Echo started watching me, I’ve made it a habit to get dressed in the bathroom, purely for my own sanity. Tonight, though, I slipped back into my room, freshly showered with nothing but a towel on.
