Page 22 of Lethal Weakness

I doubt the truth behind all of this, but within minutes my phone dings with a notice from my bank.

Half a million dollars routed to my checking account.

Next, another message comes through on my phone.

“Welcome to Project Obsidian.”

A car door closing outside draws my attention to my security monitors. I have camera angles on my entire property. And the neighbors.

The fucking landlord.

Chapter Eight

Linden

Maybe if I weren’t raised to be polite, I wouldn’t have such an issue with people walking all over me. My kind nature wouldn’t force me into situations where my brain is screaming at me to get away.

My landlord showed up at my door unannounced as usual, but this time he invited himself in for dinner.

He had mentioned it in the past as a gesture of thanks for renting to me, but I hoped it was just an errant thought, and not something he planned to follow up on.

Now he’s in my kitchen, sitting at the table with my daughter, and I don’t like it. I don’t like the way he looks at her, and the attention he gives her. He isn’t doing anything wrong, at least, nothing that I could call him out for.

But that’s just it… What power do I have? Just like with Avery’s grandparents, one wrong move and he could rip the carpet from beneath my feet. Literally.

My skin is crawling with anxious thoughts.

The food isn’t even ready to eat yet, and I’m juggling ways in my head to get him to leave.

Setting the stove on fire is on the list.

Avery is coloring at the table though, and I’m positive a house fire would cause her significant trauma.

Maybe I’m overreacting. The postpartum anxiety I developed after birth has never gone away, and truly only increased once the issues with her dad worsened. My body has been in a constant state of fight or flight for years now.

I can’t shake the urge to tuck my daughter under my arm and get far away from anyone that could even potentially hurt us.

The oven beeps, signaling that the garlic bread is done, and as I’m bent over retrieving it from the oven, I feel the slimy gaze glued to my backside.

The pan hits the counter with more force than necessary, just as there is a knock on the front door.

Oh, God. Who could that be?

“Avery, do you want to help me answer the door?” I ask because there is no way I’m leaving her in here alone with him.

She jumps up in excitement, always eager to help Mommy with any silly tasks. “Yay!”

“Be right back,” I tell my unwanted guest, letting my fake smile fall as soon as I’m out of the kitchen.

I don’t realize how tight my chest is until the door opens and I see Jack standing there. “Hi,” I state so breathlessly, I have to drag air in just to fill my lungs again.

“Everything okay?” He asks under his breath, and I blink. “He’s been here a while.”

A sound of relief escapes me. At least one other person in the world is as on edge as I am about safety.

“He invited himself in for dinner. I couldn’t say no.”

Jack’s brows furrow deeper than they already are under the brim of his hat. “You can always say no,” his deep voice rolls over me, easing my bunched shoulders.