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Chapter Eleven
Tatum
Stepping out onto the screened in porch off the dining room, I sink into one of the wicker chairs and let out a sigh as I bring my coffee cup to my lips. There’s a chill in the air despite the bright morning sunlight piercing through the old oak trees out in front of the house and birds are chirping sweetly above my head. It’s almost idyllic.
The phone rings for the sixth time in the last hour and I sigh, glancing through the open door into the dining room. The call has come in every ten minutes on the dot since seven this morning and I’m quickly losing patience with whoever is on the other end of the line. The machine picks up and since it’s just past the door, I can hear everything when the heavy, creepy breathing starts up again.
At first, I thought it was maybe a wrong number or the caller had a bad signal but when the next call came ten minutes later, I was less convinced that that was the case. By the time the phone rang for a third time, I knew it was intentional and meant for me. Maybe it’s just a prank. In fact, it doesn’t seem like a childish thing Reed might do but my mind tends to go darker than that and I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the note taped to my door the other day.
When the phone stops ringing, I stand with my mug in my hand and walk back into the house, making sure the door is locked behind me before grabbing my pistol off the dining room table and stomping back to Mom’s bedroom. Theo and I avoided her room when we started going through her things and it wasn’t until the note showed up that I ventured in here but since then, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the safe room.
I open the closet door, revealing the tiny space she used to store her clothes. Pushing them to the side, I go to the back wall and press on the hidden control panel. With a little pressure, it pops right out and as soon as I enter the code, the door swings open, revealing a long L-shaped room. There’s TVs along one wall and I flip them on, watching as the video feed from the cameras fills the screens. When I was a wild, crazy teenager, I hated that Mom had cameras all over the house and could see what I was doing all the time but now I understand it. This room is where I’ve felt safest since that note showed up. Something that comforts and annoys me to no end.
The doorbell rings and I jerk out of my thoughts, glancing up at the screen that shows the front door. Lincoln rocks back and forth, his hands shoved in his pockets and I sigh, wondering if he’s here to bitch me out about tasing him. Honestly, I’m surprised it took him this long. A heavy sigh slips past my lips and I set my coffee down on the desk, grabbing the pistol and tucking it into the waistband of my jeans.
Might as well hurry up and get this over with.
Stepping out of the closet, I close the outer door but leave the hidden door open for a quick escape. Not that I think Lincoln will truly hurt me but it makes me feel better to have multiple plans in place when everything feels so off balance. When I get to the living room, his gaze locks with mine through the glass on the front door and I suck in a breath, those damn butterflies taking flight in my belly again.
“What do you want?” I yell.
“Open the door, please.”
I arch a brow, slowly approaching the door. “You mad?”
“For tasing me? Yeah, I’m a little fucking mad, Tate.”
Rolling my eyes, I unlock the door and open it, propping my hand on my hip. “You deserved it.”
“Are you kidding me? Have you ever been tased? That shit hurts. How did I deserve that?”
“Uh, well, first of all, yes I have been tased. And you deserved it because you’re playing fucking games with me. Stupid move on your part, really.”
He growls and I narrow my eyes into a glare.
“I’m not playing games.”
Like I’m going to buy that.
“What do you want, Lincoln?”
He takes a step back, rubbing the back of his neck as he clear his throat. “I want to talk to you.”
“What could we possibly have to talk about?” I ask. I think after Friday night, everything is pretty fucking clear.
“Can I just come in, please?”
I shake my head. “Naw, you’re good there.”
“Goddamn it, Tate!” he roars and my eyes widen as I watch him start pacing in front of the door, my hand twitching to grab the gun behind my back. “Why does everything have to be so damn difficult with you?”
“It doesn’t… as long as you do what I want.”
His gaze snaps to mine and he balls his fists up before turning away and slowly blowing out a breath.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Releasing the door, I cross my arms over my chest. “I think that ship has sailed.”
