Page 49 of Property of Zombie

“Almost seven,” I say.

“You’re late.” There’s no heat in her words, just a simple statement of fact.

“I text you to let you know I would be,” I tell her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I’ve been here.”

“You okay?”

Lucy bursts into tears, and I frantically search for a way to get to her. I come up empty, so I ask, “Can you come out here, babydoll? Please?”

She silently stands and bends to step through a door. Less than a minute later, she’s standing in front of me, sobbing. I pull her into my arms and press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Shhh,” I encourage. “It’s going to be okay. Your truck’s gonna get fixed, and I’m dealing with Michael.”

“I-It’s not t-t-that,” she stutters through her tears.

“Then what is it? Did one of the animals get sick?” I ask, convinced that the only thing that could cause this reaction.

She shakes her head. “N-not the a-animals.”

I ease her back so I can see her face. “Then what?”

Several seconds go by as she tries to compose herself. As soon as she can speak without stumbling over her words, she says, “Someone wants me dead.”

My entire body goes rigid. “What?”

“The zoo got a disturbing letter in the mail,” Lucy explains. “We filed a police report. But then I checked my email while I was waiting for you, and…”

“And what?” I demand.

Lucy sighs. “It’ll be better if I just show you.”

She leads me to her office, both of us silent as we walk. Her office is dark when we arrive, and she flips on the light.

“Have a seat,” she instructs, nodding to the chair behind her desk. “The email should still be up.”

“Where’s the letter?” I ask, wanting to see that first.

“In that folder,” she says, pointing to the one on top of the pile on her desk.

I open the folder and my blood boils. This had to be terrifying for her to see, and I hate that I wasn’t here when she did. Shifting my attention from the paper to the computer screen, I ball my hands into fists to keep from smashing something.

The email is short, and just as horrible as the crude letter.

We’re made for each other. Why can’t you see that? You better come to your senses because I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you don’t. Death comes for us all, and your actions are only ensuring that yours will come sooner rather than later.

“Take a look at the attachments,” she says, her tone wooden.

I move the mouse to hover the pointer over the paperclip icon at the top of the email and click it. Three pictures pop up. The first is a photo of Lucy standing on her porch with Michael. It was taken the night of the gala, and it appears that Michael is moving forward to kiss her. I close that image and stare at the next.

The photo shows Lucy sitting on her kitchen counter with me standing between her legs. It doesn’t show anything explicit, but it’s clear that the picture was taken from outside a window looking into her condo. Fury washes over me as I close that attachment and look at the third.

The final picture is another of Lucy and me, only this one is explicit. Lucy lies on her bed, naked and open for me, and I’m kneeling between her legs. I don’t have to see it to know exactly what I’m doing. It’s the night I feasted on her pussy and fucked her senseless. The point of view is from above us, and my stomach knots at the implication.

“There’s a camera in your room,” I say.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” she admits. “I, um… I can’t go back there.”

“Damn right, you can’t,” I bark. “I’ll take you home to grab whatever you need to stay with me for the foreseeable future. I’ll have Scrubs meet us there so he can scan the entire condo for any other devices.”

She nods absently.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” I say. “I promise.”