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CHAPTER 1
Charlotte
Condolences and Congratulations, $ugar Doll. Are you looking for a new daddy?
Oh God, that creep knows where I live in Alva Park.
The note falls out of my trembling hand and onto the kitchen floor as I immediately lock the back door. Ragged breaths fill my ears, and I have to hold my breath to listen. I lean heavily against the door. Wait. What if I just locked myself inside with the stalker? I look wildly around the kitchen until my gaze rests on a rack of knives attached to the wall on a magnetic strip. I listen again, but all sounds have stopped as my knees mimic rubber bands. No, not a knife. What if he turns it on me? Fuck. How many times did Astrid try to teach me self-defense?
No. I can’t berate myself right now. But if I pull out a drawer to search for a weapon, he’ll hear the sound of it opening. I’m screwed. I listen to every knock and creak in the house as worst-case scenarios hold me motionless. Wait. I’ll grab a weapon from another room. There are lots of heavy old metal objects lying around the house within arm’s reach. Unpleasant thoughts hover outside my awareness, but I block them. If I let them form, I’ll freeze, and then I’m really screwed. Slowly. No quick moves. I run into the dining room, and my gaze falls first on a heavy candlestick with a weighted base.
I scoot along the wall and grab hold of it with both hands. The thought I’m trying to keep at bay forces its way into my mind. I don’t know where he is. What if he’s watching me right now? There’s a soft click from the direction of the hallway. But I don’t dare lose my shit. I can’t as my heartbeats ache in my chest. Just think of the Howland money, girl. I went through hell and deserve to live long enough to spend it.
Revenge is vain, but it straightens my shoulders as I tiptoe toward the archway that leads out into the hallway. Should I call out? Hell, no. Take the asshole by surprise, and then race out of here like the place is an inferno. My feet are heavier than lead as I inch toward the archway. Yes. Those are footsteps, and I didn’t hear the front door open. Someone’s on the other side of the wall, sneaking around. There’s another step as a figure walks past the archway.
“Fuck you and die, you sick monster!” With a wild shout, I swing the candlestick out in an arc that will decapitate his head.
With a curse, Astrid pivots and turns as the candlestick takes a chunk out of the hallway table, leaving a gash of splintered wood in the old mahogany.
“What the fuck, Charlotte?” She glares at me with her arms raised in defense. “Do you want the whole thing?”
The candlestick thumps against the carpeted floor and rolls away from our feet. Literally, I clutch my chest, and my heart threatens to choke my throat as I lean against the wall. The deep green color of the walls is anything but soothing to my eyes, so I close them while my heart rate lowers.
“Someone broke into the house,” I explain breathlessly. The house has been filled with people coming and going since the day before the service at the chapel, so a longer explanation will be required. Later.
With an agile twirl, Astrid swoops down and grabs the candlestick off the floor. Her eyes flash electric blue as she hunches over and creeps along the silent hallways. I follow on her heels as we check the first floor and then the second. We lock the basement and attic doors and then return to the first floor, certain that we’re alone in the house.
Slowly, I lift my eyes toward Astrid’s concerned gaze. “We need to talk, Astrid.”
She follows me into the kitchen and sits on a stool at the island, thoughtfully watching me as I make two cups of coffee in the Keurig. God knows what Astrid must be thinking, but once I tell her, she’ll understand. She takes the coffee mugs out of my shaky grip and places them down on the spotless granite surface. The green paper is still on the floor, and I pick it up to hand it to her.
Her brows draw together in an angry scowl after reading it. “What deviant a-hole sent you this?”
I sigh. “I’m being stalked.”
Her attention zooms back to me. “That’s sick. Since the reading of the will?”
I shake my head. “Since I left for Ivymore.” I pause for a second. “No, since I started my OnlyFriends account. But I shut it down.”
The house is stone silent, but Astrid’s expression speaks to me. Her eyes widen for a second, then confusion replaces shock, and that morphs into something I don’t want to see. Pity. She opens her mouth to speak, but then quickly changes her mind and shuts it again. The typed note is still in her hand. She looks at it and then rips it into a million pieces before throwing it into the trash under the sink.
“Oh, Charlotte,” she finally says. “I would’ve gotten you money.” She takes a breath. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. The person to blame is dead, but I wish you had told me.”
I hug my arms to ward off a chill from the inside. “It’s ironic. Isn’t it? I was worried that if you helped me, you would lose it all too. Turns out Howland was too weak to even lift a pen to paper.”
“I’d have helped you anyway,” she says. “Who else knows about your OnlyFriends account?”
“Everyone that owns a phone and attends my school,” I reply. “I stupidly thought I could hide my identity.”
“And who else knows about the stalker?” she asks. “It’s not one of them?”
She’s referring to the guys, but the usual suspect would be Asher in her mind. My eyes widen as I defend him. “Asher? No, for a second I thought it might be. But no.”
“He’s looking out for you, isn’t he?” she asks, and I nod rapidly. “I was wondering why he was here,” she replies. “Well, he’s finally putting his bad temper to good use.”
There’s so much more to tell, and I can’t do it looking into her eyes. “We’ve been sleeping together.”
Astrid jumps up as if the floor is a trampoline. “That son of a bitch. Is he making you? I will kick his ass until it’s flat.”
