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“Umm… I-I’m not sure…” he stutters. Clearing his throat, tries again. “I’m not supposed to take them back. You’re supposed to keep them,” he finishes with a frown.
I blow out a breath and reach for the flowers, just wanting the guy to leave. I accept them, but they are going straight into the trash.
I bump the door closed with my hip after the flustered guy turns on his heel, eyeing me strangely over his shoulder. I try really hard not to look at the flowers I’m now holding as I walk to the kitchen, but my eyes won’t listen to my mind. My damn feet won’t take me to the trash can either. Instead, they lead me over to the bar and my treacherous hands put them down on the counter. I spy the card that’s attached to the plastic clip and before I can stop myself, my hand is reaching for it and sliding the card out. I loathe myself when my heart jumps at seeing the message inside.
I miss seeing your beautiful face.
Forever yours,
Asher
Why does this have to be so hard? I tip my head back to blink away the tears and silently plead for God to answer me.
I stuff the card back inside the small envelope and set it down on the counter. I run a finger down a petal, missing the softness and scent of the roses. The ones I had before I left are all dead and thrown out in my garbage can outside. That was one of the first things I did when I came home yesterday, not wanting the reminder of what I briefly had. I don’t think I can get rid of these, though.
I turn my back on them and walk aimlessly around my house. I feel lost. I’m used to being at work right now, not sitting around at home with nothing to do. I’ve always worked, from the time I was fifteen up until the bank took the hardware store away and the small amount of time before I started working for Asher. I need something to do, but I don’t know what. I’ve done all the cleaning I can. I’m not in the mood to work on the family tree. Reading and watching TV doesn’t appeal to me at the moment. I didn’t realize how boring my life was until now.
The park.
I can go to the park and feed the ducks. That always cheers me up when I’m down. I just hope it holds my attention today. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten yet, so I make myself a sandwich to go along with me. I slip several extra slices of bread into the clear container for the ducks and walk back to my room for my phone. It rings, just as I pick it up from the bed.
It’s Liv again. Guilt eats at me as I press ignore. I’ll call her this evening. If I don’t, I’m sure her and Tony will be banging down my door. I look at the time on my phone and notice it’s after five, which means she’s off work by now, which also means she could show up any minute.
The phone dings with a new message.
Liv: Why in the hell are you avoiding me? Can you at least let me know you’re alive. I’m worried about you.
Damn it. I can’t do this to her. She’s always been there for me. I can’t leave her completely in the dark. I hate knowing she’s worried about me and there’s something I can do to relieve that worry.
I type as I walk down the hallway back to the kitchen.
Me: I’m fine. I’ll call you this evening. I’m sorry.
That should tie her over until tonight, or at least I hope it does. I know I’m being a shitty friend. She would be here for me in a heartbeat. She loves me just as much as I love her, and I’d do anything for her.
I close out of the text app and am just getting ready to slip it back in my pocket when my phone rings again.
What the hell is this, Grand Central Station?
It shows up as a private number, and an eerie sense of foreboding washes over me. Could it be the same guy that sent me the threatening message in the car in Dallas? Asher said he wouldn’t bother me anymore, but how can he be so sure? The ringing stops, but before I can feel relief, a shiver races down my spine. I don’t know how I know, but I know there are eyes on me, watching me. I look around the room, zeroing in on each window I can see. My feet carry me backwards until I’m in the mouth of the hallway, just out of sight of all the windows. If I can’t see them, then they can’t see me. I jump and shriek when my phone rings again in my trembling hand.
Private number.
I know it’s him. It has to be. He’s taunting me and he knows it.
I hit accept and bring the phone to my ear, my hands shaking so much I’m barely a
ble to keep hold of it.
“W-what do you want?” I ask. Even to my own ears, I can hear the tremors in my voice.
“You know what I want,” a deep, gravelly voice responds, making my already quivering legs shake more. “He may have already had you, but I’ll be the last one that ever touches you again.”
I sag back against the wall with tears welling in my eyes.
“What do you want? Why are you doing this?” I cry.
“Because you’re mine,” he says resolutely, sending my fear skyrocketing. “I’m coming for you, Poppy, and I won’t be as nice as he was.”
