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Baby killer.
Murderer.
Bride of Satan.
I prayed for you to make a better decision this time. But you went ahead and did it, anyway.
Get ready to pay for your sins.
And tell your family to get ready to pay for their sins, as well.
I will not be cheated on a second time.
He was escalating. His words were becoming more violent and deranged.
Julie stifled a sob. Why was this man persecuting her? Why had he singled her out for his sick obsession? Not that she knew who he was. He was a stranger stalking her, hiding behind his vicious words and online persona. But why did he mention being cheated on a second time? It made no sense. Had this madman mistaken her for someone else?
This was the third letter in as many weeks.
Julie thought she’d given him the slip after she left Brisbane. The call from her father asking her to return to Stormcloud eighteen months ago to help him out of a tight spot had seemed to come at the exact right time, and she’d jumped at the chance. And up until three weeks ago, she thought she was safe. She’d arranged for the sale of her two-bedroom flat a few weeks after she left Brisbane. Deleted all her social media accounts, even closed her email, and was careful not to leave a digital trail that anyone might be able to follow. Her last name was different to her father’s—she’d taken her mother’s maiden name after her parents divorced when she was five—so there should be nothing to link her back to Steve or Stormcloud. How had he found her?
The exterior door to the family living area opened and her father entered, a gust of wind following him in. Noticing Julie sitting on the lounge, he said, “It’s a hot one today.” He removed his battered Akubra and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. His plaid shirt was covered in streaks of dust, and he carried a bridle in one hand. Julie abstractly decided he must’ve come straight from the stables.
The breeze lifted the letter and swirled it across the floor, where it came to rest against the leg of one of the armchairs.
Steve strode into the room and picked it up just as Julie realized what he was doing and jumped to her feet. “Wait, Dad, don’t…” But it was too late.
His eyes scanned the paper.
“What the hell is this?” Her father’s normally placid face was a mask of shock and alarm.
Shit. She couldn’t meet her father’s gaze. No one knew. About the abortion. Or the stalker. She’d kept it all to herself. Because… Well, because she didn’t want to see the disdain and disappointment on any of her family’s faces when they found out. Because a tiny part of her agreed with her stalker. She’d made a decision to end her unborn baby’s life. She had every legal right to do so. But that legal right wasn’t enough to banish the flashes of doubt over whether she’d done the right thing.
“Julie.” The sharp edge in Steve’s voice forced her head up. “Answer me.”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” she answered tiredly, lowering herself back onto the sofa. “A threatening letter from a crazy stalker guy.” She tried to raise a smile, to pretend that none of this mattered, but her customary grin had abandoned her.
“Jesus Christ, Julie. Why didn’t you…? What have you…? This can’t be true,” he finished lamely.
Julie didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. An unexpected swelling of fear and sorrow closed her throat. Covering her face with her hands, she tried to hold back the sob building in her chest.
She felt the cushion sink beneath her as her father sat on the couch next to her and he placed a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t realize…”
She sobbed even harder.
Why was she breaking down like this? She was twenty-nine years old. A grown woman. She should be able to handle this better. But all of a sudden, the weight of her seemingly insurmountable problems felt too much to handle. Like she had when she was a toddler, Julie buried her face in her father’s broad chest and wept. The familiar aroma of hay and dust and sweat only made her cry harder. It was the first time she’d let go of her feelings since the stalker began sending her threatening letters. Since the abortion. Until now, she’d kept it all bottled up inside.
“Oh, honey.” Her father’s soft words only made her weep harder.
Julie wasn’t sure how long it took for her eyes to stop streaming and her chest to stop heaving, but when Steve took her by the shoulders and gently handed her a handkerchief, she looked up and realized she felt…better. No, that wasn’t the right word. Perhaps released from a heavy burden was closer. In some ways, it was a relief to have everything out in the open. Not to have to keep it a secret, at least not from her closest family.
“You should have told me,” her father admonished gently.
“I know,” she replied, still sniffling.
Blue eyes the same color as her own held her gaze until he was sure she was okay, then he stood and began pacing across the room. Julie blew her nose again and stared out the large, floor-to-ceiling windows at the picture-perfect North Queensland day. The sun beat down out of a sky as blue as a cobalt ocean, the view down the grassy embankment to the large billabong surrounded by clumps of eucalyptus trees so classically Australian. Even though she couldn’t hear them from inside, Julie knew the small birds would be twittering in the branches without a care in the world. If only she could be one of those birds right now.
