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My house has become my cave, my hiding place. I’ve been living off of dried ramen noodles and random non-perishables I happened to have around, but even that’s going to run out soon. I’m being ridiculous. I know I’m being ridiculous, but the truth is that I’m terrified.
I hate Tad for what he did to me, and I hate him for what he’s doing to me now.
I hate knowing he’s the reason I’m locked away. He’s the reason I’m not out there, living my life. He’s the reason I’m too scared to do anything.
Him and those stupid letters.
I stare at the latest one. It’s on top of my kitchen table, spread out with the others. They’re all the same, pretty much: pseudo-love letters with indirect threats. It’s nothing I can take to the cops. They’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous. They’ll say this is an overreaction on my part. They’ll say I’m being completely crazy.
They’ll say all of these things and more.
I know because I’ve been there before, and the truth is that they’re right. He hasn’t threatened me directly. He hasn’t come to my house. He hasn’t discovered where I live, but Tad is a smart motherfucker. He’s going to find me sooner or later, and I have to be ready.
Only, I’m not.
There’s a knock at the door. I glance at my phone. It’s midnight. Who would be coming to my house at midnight? It doesn’t make any sense, unless it’s him. Unless he’s found me.
Unless this is it.
I stand up and brush a couple of crumbs off my thin pajama tank top. I haven’t showered or dressed today. Okay, it’s been a couple of days. Okay, it may have been four days. And yes, I know I’m disgusting.
It’s just hard to know what to do, hard to know how to focus when it all comes down to this.
The truth is that I’m tired of running, of fighting, of being brave, and Tad? His letters are wearing me down. I take a deep breath and walk to the door, steeling myself to see his face for the first time in three years. I close my eyes, and I breathe in and out.
The knock sounds again, and I open the door.
It takes me a minute to realize who is at my door.
It’s someone I never would have expected to come over.
Two someone’s, to be precise.
“Told ya,” Odessa says, shaking her head as she looks me up and down. “Sweetie, you are a hot mess.”
“I…I…”
“Piper,” Maddox Blake speaks, carefully focusing on my eyes. “May we come in?”
“I…”
“That means yes,” Odessa explains, and she pushes past me into the house. She takes one look around and turns back to me. She crosses her arms over her chest, but it only pushes her breasts up more. I’m guessing they came from the club because she’s dressed in a tiny black dress and Maddox?
Maddox looks good enough to eat.
“What the hell, Piper?”
“What…what do you mean?”
Why are they here? I look from Odessa to Maddox and back again, but I can’t figure out why they would have come to my house.
“I mean,” Odessa says, stepping forward. “That you haven’t shown your face at the club in two weeks, sweetie. Your boss called me this morning because I’m your emergency contact, and he wanted to know how your recovery from pneumonia was going.”
“Oh, about that…”
“You don’t look like you have pneumonia, Piper, so why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on? I was going to wait until you got to the club to ask you, but you never showed.”
Odessa’s eyes are bright, fierce.
