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She got that. She was one of those people. When she got home, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. She worked, and when she got home, it was her time to be by herself.
Margery flipped the envelope over and slowlystarted to open it. The first thing she saw was a small, white note. Pulling it out, she turned it over and read the ten words written there.
He touched what was mine, so he had to die. -Y.L.
Her eyebrows squished together as she read those words again. What did they mean? She looked back at the envelope and realized there were other items in there. Putting the note back into the envelope, she pulled out the other things.
She screamed when she saw the guy who had almost raped her lying dead on the floor. There were multiple pictures of him. Margery quickly stuffed the pictures back into the envelope and rushed toward her car.
Maybe she should take this to the police. But what if they didn’t believe her? She had already called the police before, and they didn’t do anything. If anything, they had brushed it off and said she had a secret admirer. But maybe this information would show them she wasn’t lying. Surely, it would force them to believe her.
She placed the envelope on the passenger seat as she started her car. She needed to get on the road. Maybe she would go to the police station ’.
What if the person who was stalking her had ties to the police? Should she have called about it the other day? There were so many things to think about.
Margery knew there were a couple of gangs and even mafia groups in New York City. When she walked home, she tried to keep her head down so she didn’t see anything sheshouldn’t. A couple of times, people had told her to continue to walk, and she did.
There were horror stories about people not stopping and ending up dead. That wasn’t going to be her. She wanted to live her life.
As she stopped at one of the stoplights, she looked over at the envelope. The thought ofhimkilling for her did something to her. She shouldn’t have been thinking about that, but she couldn’t stop herself.
He knew what the rapist was going to do to her. What if he had gotten out and gone for her again? Her stalker was only keeping her safe. Maybe she should be thankful and turned on because he killed for her. He didn’t have to, and yet he still did.
Honk. Honk.
Coming back to reality, Margery realized the light was green. She really needed not to think about it. She was so distracted, and she couldn’t have that while she was driving. It was dangerous.
She drove for a couple more minutes until she reached the grocery store. Once she parked, then she could think about it a little bit more. But should she? Margery parked far so away from the store that once she opened the envelope and looked at the photos, nobody would see. She didn’t need anybody freaking out and calling 911. No doubt they would probably think she had taken the pictures.
She carefully grabbed the envelope and opened it once again. First, she grabbed the note and read it over again.
He touched what was mine, so he had to die.
Just reading it again made her have butterfliesin her stomach. Fireworks shooting off, making her heart pump faster. She should be scared—part of her was—but the other part was turned on. He had killed for her to keep her safe. He must have had information that her attacker was going to be let free.
Next, she pulled out the pictures and started to look over them. There was one bullet-wound to his head. She hadn’t even realized there was blood on the ground where he lay.
This should make her want to vomit, cry, and be afraid for her life, but the longer she looked at it, the more she was aroused. He had killed for her. To keep her safe or to show her he meant business.
Margery grabbed her phone and pulled up Adalisa’s contact.
Would it be crazy to be turned on about a guy killing for you? -Margery
If anyone knew if it was appropriate, it would be Adalisa. Some of the things she read and experienced in life were pretty shocking. Sometimes, she wondered if Adalisa had a death sentence, but Margery figured she didn’t.
Immediately, her phone started to ring, and she put Adalisa on speaker.
“What are you talking about?” Adalisa asked.
“Hello to you, too.”
“Bitch, answer my question. Why did you ask that?”
Margery should have figured Adalisa would want more information than just her question. Part of her was hoping she would let it slide, but she should have known it was too much to ask for.
“I’m just asking. Is it crazy to be turned on if the guy kills for you?” she asked.
“Well, if we’re talking about a book, then yes. Totally okay and great even. But in real life, it kind of depends on the situation,” Adalisa explained. “Why are you wanting to know?”
