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“Fine. I guess I don’t need to tell you that this is for you?” He grins and tosses it at me.
“Jesus, man,” I growl, lurching forward to catch it. “Be careful. It’s probably a bomb or something. How the hell did she know I was here?”
“She didn’t. The delivery guy had the wrong apartment, but I told him I was you.” He winks at me. “It’s the chair. People get nervous around it. He practically tossed it at me and ran.” He nods at me. “Go on, then. Open it.”
I take a deep breath and read the card first.
Cam,
Have you been getting my emails and messages? I hope you’re not ignoring me. I don’t think I can handle that…Anyway, I just wanted to show you that I’m always with you, even when I’m not there. Please call me?
Love
Darcy
I hand it to Lewis, who starts laughing uncontrollably. I shake my head at him then reach into the box and pull out a teddy bear. I examine it from every angle. A red button on his left paw reads ‘press me,’ but honestly? I’m scared to. I glance at Lewis, who’s still laughing then I look back at the harmless little stuffed toy I’m holding in my hands.
How much damage it’s going to cause me if I press that little button?
“She’s really losing it,” I murmur.
“Just press the damn hand,” Lewis orders.
I glare at him. “Fine, but if this thing explodes, it’s on you.”
I press the little paw, then frown at it as it starts awkwardly dancing in my hands.
“What the fuck…” I mutter.
His mouth starts moving and Richard Marx’s “I’ll Be Right Here Waiting for You” begins to play. I frown, because this is some freaky shit. The song almost sounds like it’s playing at a distance away, like in horror movies, where they’re trapped at a deserted carnival, but then music begins playing. I shudder, because that’s exactly what this reminds me of.
“I think she’s trying to send you a message,” Lewis chuckles. “The question is, are you going to listen?”
“Fuck, what do I do?” I mutter. I drop the toy onto the couch and walk over to the window. “How far is she going to go with this?”
“I don’t know. Man, I am glad I am not you.” Lewis shrugs helplessly. “I wish I could help you, but you might need to ride it out. Put up with it, don’t upset her, and she’ll be onto something else before you know it.”
“I need to talk to her,” I decide. “Maybe if I let her down gently and apologize again, she’ll back off? I can't have this kind of shit happening when I start work tomorrow.”
“I think talking to her is a bad idea,” Lewis calls out after me.
Maybe it is, but it's the only idea I've got moment.Chapter ElevenCameronIt’s official.
This chick is a fucking psycho.
Yesterday I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but not anymore. I’ve barely had a second to myself where she wasn’t trying to contact me, either to abuse me or to confess her love. Sometimes, if I was really lucky, I got both. If I’d known she was this crazy, I’d never have answered that ad in the first place. I should’ve just palmed her off onto Lewis, and then it would be him who’d be dealing with all of this.
Maybe I should be warning Dad. I mean really, how long has he known Paula? She could be just as unstable as her daughter.
I'm on edge when I arrive at Dad's house. I park my car and let myself inside, calling out that it’s me. Nobody answers, so I’m pretty sure no one is home, which, given it’s Wednesday afternoon, isn’t that surprising. I check the garage just to make sure, and sure enough, it’s empty.
I’m so glad she’s not home. I honestly had no idea what I was going to say to her if she was. I groan and walk over to the couch, where I sit down and rub my head. Now that I’m here, I know Lewis is right, that talking to her is a really bad idea, but I don’t know what else to do. What if this is just the beginning and things get worse from here?
God, what if she ends up knifing me in my sleep?
Mack frowns at me. “What’s up with you?”
I jump and look up at him with a scowl. My heart pounds. He scared the fuck out of me.
“Well?” he presses.
He frowns at me and sits on the arm of the couch, waiting expectantly for me to say something, I don’t, because there’s no way I can tell him what’s going on, but he can be a nosy little shit when he wants to be.
“Nothing,” I mutter. “I just have some stuff going on.”
“Ah.” He chuckles and nods, like he knows something. “This is to do with Darcy, right?”
