This whole time, they weren’t spammers or bot callers.
The cat—it wasn’t a cute gift from my ex, and now that I know that, I realize I should have always known it.
Or, at the very least, asked him about it.
What a fool I was.
Focus. I take a deep breath and try to shove the images of a faceless monster from my mind. The same one who has haunted my life for the last eighteen years. They never caught him, after all.
Is it possible?
“Who are you?”
A loud crack fills my ears, and I scream.
“Anastasia!” Sawyer’s frantic voice follows, and the thundering of his footsteps down the hall brings me a wave of relief even as the fear continues to render me immobile on the floor of my closet.
He’s here. I’m not alone.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, lovely,” the voice says. Then the line goes dead.
“Anastasia!” Sawyer tries the door.
“Coming!” I call out, my voice shaky. If he’s here, I’m safe. On trembling legs, I stumble over to open my door—then fall into his strong arms, the adrenaline leaving me in a rush.
“Baby, what happened? Are you okay?” He moves me into my room and sets the gun he’d brought with him on my nightstand so he can cup my cheeks.
“I think someone is messing with me,” I say.
His gaze searches the room, pausing on my closet, where the handgun I’d pulled out sits discarded on the floor. “Tell me what happened.” Sawyer gently guides me back onto my bed. “Was someone here?”
“I don’t think so.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “No, I would have heard him.”
“Him?” Sawyer’s expression turns deadly as he stands and retrieves his firearm. “I’m going to clear the apartment, okay?” But before leaving my room, he grabs my gun from the closet floor and carries it over to me, setting it on the bed. “Keep this here, and don’t move.”
I wrap both arms around myself and wait as he leaves the room. I can hear him moving through the apartment, checking closets, the spare bedroom, and my office. Finally, he comes back in.
“It’s clear.” He sets his gun on the nightstand now and moves mine beside it before kneeling in front of me and taking my hands. “Tell me what happened? Do we need to call the police?”
I shake my head. “It was silly. Just a phone call.” Except, it wasn’t. “I thought the stuffed cat was a gift from Jack. But it wasn’t.”
“Baby, you’re not making any sense.” He reaches up and cups my cheeks. “Breathe. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”
“I’m probably overreacting. It’s just a prank.” Why doesn’t it feel like I am, though?
“Please tell me what happened,” he urges.
Biting back the emotion in my throat, I focus on the feel of Sawyer’s hands on mine. I’m safe. He’s here. “You know about the phone calls.”
He nods.
“Tonight, it wasn’t just breathing or a dead line.” I close my eyes, that voice like acid in my ears.
“What did he say?” Sawyer’s voice is serious. His body tense.
“He asked if I got the gift.”
“What gift?”
