Page 69 of Make You Mine

He wouldn’t do something so dangerous to get to me.

“I-I’m sorry about that.” My previous annoyance vanishes, worry replacing it. “That’s awful.”

Joseph nods. “Yeah. Anyway, if he contacts you, would you let me know? Or better yet, call the police. They’ll probably talk to you soon, either way. We’re about to fill a missing person’s report.”

I didn’t even exchange numbers with Lucien, so I doubt he’ll call me. But I don’t want to say that to his possibly grieving friend. So, instead, I go along with it. “Of course.”

“Thanks. Take care of yourself, okay?”

***

I’m about ready to head home but remember I forgot my tumbler in class.

My mouth opens as I catch sight of a new surprise. Right there, in the middle of my desk, next to the tumbler, is a small black box.

Bile rises up my throat.

There’s no way it’s a present from Kayden this time. It matches the previous gifts from him—my stalker.

My jaw tightens. How the hell does he keep getting away with this, and no one ever sees a damn thing?

My whole body goes rigid. I pick up the sturdy box with the familiar ribbon and open it.

A scream escapes me, and I bring both my hands to my mouth as the box drops on the desk again, the contents of it rolling out and onto my desk.

What the fuck?

I wait a minute to see if someone heard me, but no one bursts in, so I’m guessing not.

Most kids must have gone home already.

I focus on the box on my desk, tilted with the contents spilled out of it.

A finger with a ring. A thick silver band that somehow stands out to me.

I laugh nervously.

Part of me thinks it might be a prop, while the other part thinks it’s anything but.

I lean closer and poke the finger with my own. I’m met with a sturdy, icy structure that startles me.

Okay. We did buy some things for the haunted house.

I don’t know if Kayden picked out anything else without me, or if Hannah joined in and did a little extra shopping.

As I tell myself this, my chest falters. Maybe it’s one of them playing a joke on me. It’d fit Kayden, after giving me an amazing orgasm and a delicious lunch, to add a childish prank as a cherry on top.

Yes. That’s it. It’s a joke.

I put the prop finger back in the box it came in, growing accustomed to its icy texture. I shove the box into one of the drawers on my desk, and right after doing so, I see the note folded on top of my desk.

It must have been under the box all along.

My breath hitches again.

Please, don’t be it. Please don’t be it.

The words that appear on the sheet of paper in front of me make the lump in my throat resurface. The feeling of choking that never completely leaves me, is back again.