Page 7 of Oxygen Deprived

I pinched my lips as I glared at the man.

“Because my ex-boyfriend dropped it off there, knowing damn well I couldn’t get it.”

“Interesting,” he said. “Do you want me to bring it in?”

I weighed the benefits of getting the TV inside against the possibility that he might be a serial killer.

Knowing damn well I couldn’t live without the TV, I decided to take a chance with my life and said, “Please.”

The man didn’t even hesitate. I quickly moved out of his way, sweeping my hand through the night air in an embellished fashion to direct him towards my door.

“After you,” I murmured.

He picked the TV up as if it weighed nothing, and easily walked up the path and into the house, stopping once he was in the living room.

“Where do you want it?” He stopped.

I pursed my lips and pointed to where it used to be.

“It used to be right there, hanging above the mantle, but if the wall mount wasn’t laying out there with the TV, then you’ll have to just put it on the floor, I guess,” I pointed to a blank spot where the recliner I’d bought Danny used to sit.

His brows furrowed at my mention of him taking the mount, but he placed it on the floor anyway, stepping back once I had.

“Thank you,” I sighed softly. “I really appreciate it.”

Now get out of my house, please. I don’t really want to die.

He must’ve sensed my thoughts because he headed to the door without another word, not stopping until he was down at the end of my yard standing next to my mailbox.

“Don’t let him into your house anymore,” he said. “And I’d suggest changing your locks. If you want to get new locks, I’ll put them on for you.”

I lifted my robe up slightly to show my anklet monitor.

“No can do, sir. I can’t go out even if I wanted to,” I informed him.

His eyes went down to my ankle, his gaze being captured by the blinking red dot.

“You’re on house arrest?” He wondered, surprise evident in his voice.