Page 23 of Hate It with You

My fingers curve around the note hesitantly as I attempt to dull the shaking that has begun in my appendages. To my dismay, the shaking only intensifies when I open the note. I do my best to hide the contents from Alex, who hasn’t moved from his position beside me. I can’t bring myself to look at him, worried he’ll ask questions.

A peace offering.

A fucking peace offering?

I’ve known this man for the majority of my life and peace isn’t in his vocabulary. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I read the note over and over again, the world around me falling away as I stare at the words written on the small piece of paper. I’m not sure how long I stand there like that, unmoving, before a gentle hand warms my shoulder.

The connection grounds me, bringing me back from an internal spiral I was losing myself to.

“Beth?” Alex’s voice is like a feather’s brush against my ear. “Is everything okay?”

No, and you’re the last person that should be concerned. For all I know, you’re just like him.

Hoping he didn’t see the note, I pull away from him, grabbing the box as I do so. “I’m fine,” I say before pushing past him and throwing the box in the trash bin in the back room.

Meeting Alex back out at the front desk, I explain, “It’s nothing. Look, I haven’t had a customer all day, and I’m pretty hungry. Feel free to keep working, but I’m going to head up for the night.” I kick myself for the slight shake in my voice as I say the words.

Alex’s eyebrows scrunch together, curiosity lacing his tone. “Sure, go get some rest. I’ll finish up here, and I’ll make sure everything gets locked up properly.”

“Thanks,” I say before grabbing my water bottle and heading up the stairs toward my apartment for the night.

Upon entering my apartment, I remember Alex’s command from this morning and promptly lock the doors behind me, ensuring my door is secure. It’s usually just a precaution I use at night, but I’m beginning to think I’ll have to use these locks during the day as well.

It wasn’t just a note this time, but a full package. Sent directly to my bookstore. Maybe I should’ve checked the return address, but looking into this would only encourage him. He’s getting bolder, the progression matching that of my childhood. I don’t need to feed into this situation more than I have to.

Sitting at my kitchen counter, I open my laptop. My gut twists as I type in the words “self-defense videos for women” into the search bar. I always meant to take classes, but finding a place I could afford and the time to train was difficult enough that it was never a priority.

A decision I’m now regretting.

I continue my search well into the night, doing my best to pick up a few moves for free courtesy of the internet. Three hours into my search, the plethora of information becomes overwhelming, leaving me no choice but to close my laptop and go to bed.

Maybe I won’t need self-defense. Maybe notes and creepy packages are the extent of what he plans to do. Maybe he really did offer it as a peace offering.

You know better, Beth.

10

ALEX

One eye of the mutilated teddy bear looks back at me from its position on my coffee table. A tap tap tap echoes through my apartment as my heel attempts to drill a hole straight through my oak wood flooring. The brown leather of my couch creaks beneath the tempo of my leg. A dull pain forms in my head as my brain works overtime in an effort to put the pieces together. My molars lock themselves onto each other as my anger grows by the second.

Who the fuck is sending her a “peace offering?”

After Beth left, I packed up my tools and locked up for her. I had finished the work about twenty minutes before she came to the back room to pick up her water bottle but had decided to keep myself busy until I could get a conversation going with her.

The look on her face when she opened the package told me that I had made the correct decision. She said she was fine, but the way her eyes widened at the sight of the contents and the trembling that worked its way from her shoulders to her fingertips told me everything I needed to know. It was the same as when she found the note on her front door of the bookstore a few nights ago.

She’s scared.

I didn’t think twice when I grabbed the box out of the trash and took it to my apartment. After dumping it out on my coffee table, I took a seat and have been examining the items since. On the surface, these items aren’t scary. Sure, the teddy bear is a little worn, and the slit across the throat is a small concern, but it’s only a stuffed animal. The note itself isn’t scary either. So that only leaves one thing as the root cause of her fear.

The person who sent this to her.

I could sit here and theorize who this person is all night, but that’s not my style. Instead, I carry myself over to my desk, which sits beneath a large window on the other side of the dining room. Beth and my apartments have the same layout, only mirrored. Although mine is a little easier to maneuver, considering it’s fully furnished and doesn't have boxes lying around.

Opening my laptop, I begin searching. For what, I’m not sure, but I start with Beth’s name. I’ve searched for it before, and nothing came up as a red flag. Only finding social media accounts that have been set to private, my follow request still going unanswered.

After an hour of searching, I look back at the items on the coffee table again. Beth’s scared face and shaky hands flash before my eyes again, and I turn back toward the computer, opening my Wi-Fi provider’s website.