ChapterTwelve
James believed everything I told him.The sincerity of his concern was evident on his face as I recounted what’s happened over the last several days.When I fell into bed last night, I wrapped myself in his pledge to protect me.I felt at ease, calm, and maybe even a little excited.He had given me a rain check for coffee and I plan to take him up on it.
I woke this morning with a lightness, a sense that everything will be alright.It propelled me forward, launching me into my work where I found myself once again lost in a story.Inside the fantastical world of the book, I became someone else.My hands shook as I held a blade to the throat of my enemy, only to find that they were my ally all along.My legs trembled as we sprinted through a city of brightly colored shops and sparkling, silver bridges, racing against the clock to save my lover from a horrible fate.My eyes glazed with tears when we discovered it was too late.
A dull vibration startles me.Pushing my glasses up onto my head, I pull my tired eyes away from the pages.I press my palms against them, rubbing away the haziness that comes from too many hours of reading.My phone lies blinking and buzzing on the desk.I roll my eyes at what’s surely a text from Emily, describing her most recent date in more detail than I need.My gaze shifts to the window, where the sun is making a lazy descent toward the horizon, washing the trees in an orange glow.
Another buzz has me snatching my phone from the desk and mumbling, “Alright.Alright, you impatient woman.”
When I unlock it, it’s not Emily’s name I see, but an unknown number.
Hello, little bird.I left a gift for you by your kitchen door.Why don’t you go check?
Panic rushes into me.My lungs seize, like the first breath on a cold, winter day.The room swirls around me, suddenly brighter and smaller than it was before.No, no, no, no.This isn’t happening.I force out a shuddering sigh and type out a reply.
Who is this?
Nausea curls in my stomach as I watch the three bubbles on my screen, blinking, blinking, blinking.Why did I text back?Somewhere in my head I didn’t expect a reply.But my phone buzzes again.
You know who this is.
My breaths come hard and fast as I drop back into my chair.Navigating away from the text, I pull up James’ number and crash my finger into the call button.His voicemail picks up immediately.I try three more times.His phone is off.
Crap, crap, crap.This is not good.I need to consider my options here.My stalker left agiftat my door, which means it's outside…where he's probably waiting for me.I can't go outside.I'm safer in here…aren't I?I haven't replaced the locks, so maybe not.He got in here before.
A choked sob catches in my throat.Even as my eyes fill with tears, I don't let them fall.Not now.I can't fall apart now.Not when I need to figure out what to do.
I yelp at the sudden vibration of my phone.Another text comes through.
I won't touch you tonight.It's safe for you to come out.
I suck in a deep breath until my lungs ache from the pressure.My feet shift anxiously inside of my slippers, a cool coating of sweat forming between my toes.
As I pull myself away from my desk, a mumbled mantra falls from my quivering lips, “This is a bad idea.A very, very bad idea.”
Back hunched just below the level of the windows, I creep into the kitchen.Theswish, swishof my slippers against the hardwood floor follows behind me.I peek around the corner into the kitchen, where early evening shadows slither from edges and crevices.Their silhouettes warning me away, begging me not to venture here.
No, it's no different than it was before.This room is the same.It's all the same.It's just panic.
Slowly, I rake my fingers through my hair, pressing my nails into my scalp to soothe the tension building in my head.My gaze shifts to the door.It's nearly dark now.
A tiny, scared voice yells inside my rattled brain,You can't go out there in the dark.Now is your only chance to grab whatever it is.He can get to you in the dark and you won't see him coming.
My legs twitch with sudden determination.Like a runner bracing for a sprint, I press my head forward, arms slightly raised at my back.I dash toward the door, yanking the deadbolt open and ripping the door open.My breath leaves me in a gasp when I find a black box only inches in front of the entrance.
My hands wrap around it before I slam the door again.My quivering thighs give out under me.The door scrapes against my back as I slide down to the floor.
Despite the fraying of my nerves and unsteadiness of my hands, I gently place the box on the floor beside me.Mygiftsits in a black, cardboard box about the size of a toaster.A matching, fitted lid placed on top.Four strips of silky, red ribbon wrap neatly around it, meeting in a large bow at the top.
Staring at the elegantly wrapped package, the room seems to close in around me.The walls push in on me, closer and closer.My vision tunnels, focusing solely on that damn box.
When the phone I'd forgotten was in my pocket buzzes, a shriek barrels out of my mouth.My fingers stumble against the touchscreen as I pull up the text message.
Open the box, little bird.It won't hurt you.
I pull up my recent call list and dial James again, only to still reach his voicemail.It looks like I'm going to have to do this on my own.Resigning myself to that fact, my jittery digits reach for the box.I lift the lid gingerly and look inside.
The cardboard lid slips from my fingers, falling to the floor with a dull thud.My throat tightens at the metallic tang of rust that rushes into my nostrils.My eyes go wide at the sight of the horrific souvenir.A man's severed hand.Raw, mangled, and gruesome.On his finger, a gold ring is embossed with the initialsJB.
