Page 154 of Pretty Thing

“Holy shit…did he cause the accident?”

The thought comes and then goes. From what I know of him, he doesn’t want to hurt me…God, I hope he doesn’t.

There were no knives, circles with blood, or pictures with my eyes scratched out.

I quickly pack a bag with everything that I can think of while being in flight mode. I suck in a deep breath as it comes to me.

The RV.

Dad made me go and take the test to get the special license so I could take shifts and drive on family trips. I hated it at the time, but right now, I couldn’t be more thankful. It’s in that fancy storage facility across town, but it’s in great shape, and it’ll give me a place to live and keep moving.

I hear Kris’s voice in my head, telling me to call the cops.

But I just can’t.

What he’s done is wrong and an extreme violation, but…I love him. I love him, and I wouldn’t have made it through the last couple of months without him. I just need time to think, but not here.

Pulling out my phone, I call the first taxi place that comes up in the search.

“Hello?”

“Hi there, I need a taxi to pick me up.”

“Location?”

I quickly give the address.

“Can you please make sure the driver comes to the back of the building? That’s where my apartment is.”

“The driver will be there in five minutes.”

I hang up and write down all the numbers in my phone that I think I might need, including the lawyer’s and my doctor’s. I pause and then scribble Felix’s number as well.

God, I wish I had these memorized.

The paper goes in my pocket, while my phone and credit cards are tossed on the bed.

Who knows if he is more than a stalker?

Felix could also be a hacker. That setup he has it extremely fancy.

I grab any cash I can find around the bedroom before raiding his jacket pockets, and manage to scrape together around four hundred. It’s not much, but it will buy me food and enough time to think.

Pulling on my boots, I wince as my ankle complains from the rushed treatment. I stuff my running shoes into the duffel, then place my hand against the glass tank with Joy and Happy inside.

My heart cracks wide open as I think of every sweet thing he’s done for me. But is it because he actually loves me or am I just a strange obsession? And how do I know that it won’t turn violent at some point? Was this how his mother and father started out before he turned violent?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I grab my house keys. I refused to take them out of my jacket the night of the fire. I look down at the RV key in my hand. Time to go.

Closing the door, I tiptoe as quietly as I can down the stairs, hearing rock music coming from the shop.

I want so badly to let him explain right now. I can just have it out with him, and everything will be okay.

But I have no idea what cornering him like that will do.

No…space…be smart about this.

I crack the door open to the outside and shiver as I keep an eye out for the bright yellow taxi. When it pulls up, I slip out, close the door, and climb into the warm car, my heart pounding.