I flip through the apps on my phone, needing some sort of distraction from the evening.
Oh, look at that. Somehow, I just happened to stumble on Knox’s Facebook page.
He’s already changed his profile picture to him in an Orcas jersey.
“Seattle is a big town. I’m not going to see him.”
It’s throwback Thursday. There’s a picture of him at Decar Lake High School, a ten-minute walk—though it feels like thirty in the cold—from my parents’ old house.
He’s grinning.
The little bit of my heart that just can’t get over him tugs.
I was only ever the girl he’d fuck. Kathy was the one he wanted to date. She was always the one he wanted.
I scroll down, soaking in all the pictures, the memories I’d tried to block from my new life.
I’m in a weak moment. There wasn’t any food at this dating event.
“Put the phone down and make some pasta, Winnie.”
All that does is make me think of last night when Fitz invited himself over.
I pull the notes out of my pocket that I saved from yesterday—not the one from the peep show, which I still can’t believe I actually did.
“No more wine for Winnie.” I unfold the paper and make myself stare at the notes while behind me, the espresso maker drips forebodingly in the silence.
You can’t escape me.
I see you with him.
I’m going to make sure another man will never be able to touch you.
The note wasn’t there earlier in the day. At least, I don’t think it was.
It was so chaotic, though, with trying to get Kathy ready for her date she bailed on, and then Gran had her knitting club over.
Maybe it had been stuck somewhere and migrated.
Or maybe Logan, the neighbor’s son that my mom invited over, is the stalker, and he put it there.
Gosh, I hope not. Then this really will be a low point.
More likely, the stalker slipped in during the day. I wouldn’t put it past my family to invite some random stranger disguised as a delivery guy into the house just for a slice of cake and some water.
I’m scrolling through the video camera feed on my phone, trying to see anyone suspicious coming and going, when the lights go out.
Shit. Heart pounding, I slide off the chair and crouch down, eyes darting around in the dark.
Outside, thunder rattles the windows. Lightning flashes.
“All the power’s out on the block,” I tell myself, trying to calm down.
But I just know…he’s here.
My stalker is here.
“He didn’t knock out the power on the whole block,” I whisper in the dark. “And he’snothere. He’s probably just at my house. Like normal. As long as I don’t go outside, I’m fine.”
