Page 21 of To Obsess

I don’t normally mind working over but today was just one of those days. From the time Grumpypants left the store, all I could think about was curling up on my couch with my latest dark romance book in hand, along with a full glass of wine. But as always, when Betty asked if I could ‘be a darling’ and stay to help restock the shelves for tomorrow’s big sale, I’d forced a saccharine smile to appear long enough to say ‘of course’ and turn my back to the sweet old woman. Thankfully, that was behind me now, but apparently, I had other problems to attend to. Like the creep leaving shit in my mailbox. Again.

With a huff, I throw the mail, including the card, into the passenger seat and speed up the driveway. With the car in park, I fling open the door, put my foot on the panel to keep it from shutting again, and gather the mail before climbing the front steps.

I toss the mail carelessly on the kitchen table and have a full glass in my hand in under three minutes. New personal best, I think with a small sardonic grin. Ignoring all the bills, I rifle through the letters until I find the card. Handwritten, as always. This time, though, it’s nowhere near my birthday.

I stare at the simple card, contemplating a text to Abby but thinking better of it. No need to worry her before you even open it, Vi, I think to calm my racing thoughts. With a flick of my thumb, the card is open, but a paper flutters to the floor, surprising me. With scrunched eyebrows, I bend to pick up the paper but stop when my heart drops to my feet. I recognize that name printed across the top. The security company. It’s a receipt.

“No,” I say to the empty room. Snatching it from the floor, I return to my full height and flip the card open again.

I SWEAR TO PROTECT YOU, NO MATTER THE COST.

The hairs along the back of my neck stand on end as I scan it a second time, gaze flitting between the handwritten words and the receipt. “No, no, no,” I repeat, pulse skyrocketing as my heart slams against my ribs.

I scramble to get my phone from my back pocket, hit the call button beside Abby’s name, then smash the phone between my ear and shoulder, returning my focus to my hands. “Pick up, pick up, pick up. Damn it!” I punch the end button when the call goes to voicemail, only to immediately click the call button again.

“Dude, what the hell?” Abby says, finally answering.

“Abigail, I got another card.”

The silence between us is deafening, even though I can hear a man talking in the background from her side. “You what? No, shut up,” she snaps at whoever she’s with. “You got what? It’s not your birthday, Vi. Are you sure it’s for you?” The man in the background grumbles something about a cock block before Abby slams a door, silencing him completely.

The idiocy of that question stuns me for a second. “What? Why else would it be in my mailbox, Abby?!” I huff through my nose, trying to cool my temper and slow my pulse. It feels like my heart might break through my chest at any second. Goosebumps break out along my arms as I read the words again.

“Well, fuck, I don’t know! I just thought it might be a mistake somehow. What does it say? Is it like all the other cards?” I can hear her moving around on the other side of the phone, pacing if I had to guess.

“Kind of. It’s written in the same handwriting as all the others. Handmade. Same paper. It says, ‘I swear to protect you, no matter the cost,’ on the inside.” I debate not telling her about the receipt, not telling her that someone else paid for my security system.

“See! It must be for someone else. That doesn’t even make any sense,” she groans, relief flooding her voice.

I scrub my hand through my hair, psyching myself up to tell her the rest. “It does if I told you about the receipt that was included this time.” I clamp my eyes shut and pull the phone an inch or two from my ear, waiting for her to scream at me. As the noise dies down, I cautiously put the phone back to my ear and continue.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she says. “No, I’m leaving right now. Cock block or not, my best friend has some shit going on, and dick isn’t going to be the reason she goes through it on her own, asshole.” The line goes dead, so I place the phone face down on the table and scan the kitchen for the hundredth time. Suddenly, I don’t feel comfortable in my own house, and as much as it should scare me, it honestly just pisses me off.

Eight minutes later, I get a ping on my phone, notifying me that someone is at the front gate. Another thirty seconds and Abby is parking her car beside mine and hauling ass up the front steps. “Let me see it,” she demands, pinning me with a glare I definitely deserve.

I hand it over, knowing I’m better off staying quiet while she analyzes everything. “Fuck,” she mumbles more to herself than to me. “It really was meant for you.” She hands the card back to me, concern flitting across her tense expression.

I offer a wine glass, which she takes eagerly. “I’m starting to get a little freaked out. And pissed off. Whoever this fucker is, they’ve overstepped this time. I was fine with the birthday cards, a little concerned when things were placed on the porch, but this is just too much.”

“Can’t forget the time they almost got you hauled off to jail.”

A frown pulls at the corner of my lips at the reminder.

I chug the last of my now-too-warm wine and place the glass in the sink. “How am I supposed to stop someone when I can’t even figure out who in the world it is? I’ve been trying for years, racking my brain every time a birthday card comes in, and I swear I’m no closer to figuring out who’s doing this.”

Abby’s eyes get that weird twinkle in them. “Maybe instead of just telling the story of how the cards began, we could illicit some help from listeners. Go through their theories in semi-real time for new episodes. Work through any leads or ideas they might have on how to track down this psycho.”

The idea turns the wine sour in my stomach. I need to know who’s doing this, but I’m not sure I’m ready to face the reality. “What if it’s somebody we know? Or someone who ends up being dangerous? What if it’s someone who has a little power and could easily use that power to shut us both up permanently? Or a mob boss who formed some weird attachment like in all those books that are popular now?”

Abby throws her head back and laughs freely at my expense. “We’re not gonna swim with the fishes, babe. It’ll be fine. We need to know who is sending these cards so we can stop it from happening, that’s all. They crossed a boundary tonight.”

Oh, if only she had any idea exactly how many boundaries have been crossed by this guy in recent days.

Reluctantly, I agree as we make plans for the weekend. With the store’s sale starting tomorrow, the creepy guy invading my life will just have to wait his turn.

By Saturday morning, I’ve had more than my fair share of checking the stats of our first actual episode of the podcast. It’s only been out for one day, but we’ve managed to get nearly two thousand listens already. Perks of having the blog for the past few years, plus Abby’s decent social media presence. I screenshot the numbers and send them to her.

I put my phone on charge before heading to the bathroom to turn on the water. Stripping down, I wait until the steam starts to build, beginning to coat the room in a hazy fog. The muscles in my shoulders loosen slightly as I scrub shampoo into the nest of hair I’ve piled on top of my head. By the time I’ve washed my body and am rinsing the conditioner from my hair, my skin is a bit tingly and lobster-like, but my breath comes easier.