You know what, fuck it.
That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Whether anything comes of it or not is a whole other issue. But I’m not doing this. Worrying about this shit is taking up way too much of my time, and maybe filing a report will help me sleep at night. The thought settles something inside me. Not much, though it’s enough to stop my brain from spinning in circles long enough to focus on something else.
By the time I polish off far more takeout than I should and toss the empty containers into the trash, the panic from earlier is dulled into something manageable. Days like this are the only times I really notice how empty the apartment is. Not because I need someone to take care of me. I’ve been taking care of myself for years. But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to come home to something other than silence.
Not because I haven’t wanted it. I just never seem to have the time. Working in law got me used to long hours and late nights. One day turned into one year. One year turned into ten. And somewhere along the way, finding a pack became something future Lennon would worry about.
Steam billows in a mist around me as the hot shower washes away the day. I stand beneath the spray far longer than usual, letting the heat seep into muscles I hadn’t realized were so tight. By the time I finally shut the water off, my heartbeat had finally settled from my earlier panic. Wrapping a soft towel around my body, I pad toward my nest, already looking forward to climbing into bed.
I flick on the light and come to a stop. My nose wrinkles as the scent of copper fills the space around me. Confusion hasme glancing around the room, trying to find the source of the problem before my eyes fall to my bed. My breath catches in my throat as a lone Cardinal lies in the center of my nest. Blood covers its once vibrant feathers, staining the blankets beneath it a deep, ugly crimson. Its wings have been spread wide, posed with a level of care that makes bile rise in the back of my throat. Someone took their time with this. Someone touched my nest. Someone stood in my room.
Its feathers frame jagged words carved into the white coverlet beneath it, the letters still wet enough to glisten in the glow of the bedside lamp.
‘No nest can protect you from us.’
My back smacks against the door frame, pain rippling up my spine. Pain that I can’t focus on right now as the Cardinal burns itself into my memory. The scent of death clinging to me even as I back away into the hall and toward the lounge where I had left my phone. This has to stop. All of this? It has to fucking end.
Grabbing the device with shaking hands, I unlock the screen, my thumb hovering uselessly above the keypad. The police. Veronica. Hell, I don’t know who to call.
The police.
Before I can dial 911, my phone vibrates in my hand.
Unknown:I hope you liked my present, Little Bird.
A strangled sound escapes me as I whip around, my eyes darting frantically through the apartment.
They know I’m home.
They’ve been watching me.
Again.
My thumb trembles over the screen, ready to make the call, when another notification appears.A video.Reluctantly, I open it, my heart skipping a beat as the screen shakes and rattles before steadying in whoever’s grip.
Then I realize what I’m looking at.
My father’s gravestone fills the screen.
Fresh flowers sit in the vase I left there only days ago. The photograph I chose smiles back at me. Chest aches, this time for a different reason than fear. It aches because they have access to my dad’s final resting place and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The sound of a zipper cuts through the silence, followed by the sound of running water. For a second, my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing. Refuses to understand. Because surely nobody could be that cruel. Surely nobody could hate me that much. Then reality crashes over me like a fucking tidal wave with the realization clear as day.
They’re pissing on my father’s grave.
The sick fuck that stood in my apartment, my nest.
The cunt who touched my things.
He’s standing over the only parent I’ve ever known, who loved me unconditionally, and pissing like some sort of unkempt, untrained rabid fucking dog.
My head spins, my chest growing tighter with each second that passes as water blurs the screen from view. My father spent his whole life protecting me. Believing in me. Loving me. He handed me the Cardinals because he trusted me. He believed I was strong enough to carry his legacy. And this fucking coward thinks he gets to desecrate his resting place? Humiliate him? Me? My breathing slowly steadies as my tears fade. I am done letting this faceless asshole get to me. Done letting him hide behind anonymity. But he’s made one fatal mistake. He mocked my father in one of the worst ways he could have done, and nobody touches the people I love and walks away unscathed. Slowly, I lower my phone. I’m still calling the police. But I’m done sitting back. I’ll be there for years if I rely on them to save me from this. No. I’m going to do one better. I’m going to findthem. Whoever this is. And I swear to fucking God, I will burn their entire fucking world to the ground when I do.
Chapter Eight
Lennon
Three sharp bangs against my front door make me flinch so violently that I half fall off the couch. My entire body curls tighter beneath the blanket wrapped around me, the rough material scratching against my skin as I fight the urge to disappear into myself.
“Babe, open up!” The voice is one I recognize all too well. With the last dregs of strength that are slowly seeping from my body, I force myself off the floor. The blanket I had found in my panic, one of the few not stained with blood, remains tightly wrapped around me as I stumble toward the door. My fingers fumble with the lock before finally managing to pull it open. And the second I do, I break.
