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Mac left after checking my security. He upgraded the software so the cameras start recording ten seconds before the buzzer is pushed. He also installed an app on my phone so I can interact with people at my gate wherever I am out in the world. I had to give him more reassurances than I’ve ever given to anyone in my life that I’m okay. That was a few hours ago, and I’ve basked in the peace and quiet of the theatre room since.
I drop Indi a text to let her know I’m okay before I start the next movie, even though she has no cell service since she’s camping. I can already tell she’s going to be spitting feathers when she gets back to civilization and realizes what happened while she was gone.
I’m halfway through the action movie when my phone buzzes, telling me someone’s at the gate. I pull up the app and see a guy who can’t be much older than I am, standing with a giant box. “Hello?”
“Delivery for Octavia Royal,” is all he says. I check out the van behind him, which looks legit enough, so I buzz him in.
I pause the movie and pad out to the front door, ready to meet him. It’s a little late in the day for deliveries, but what do I know? I reach the entry hall as the knock echoes around the entryway, making everything seem far more sinister than it is.
Get a grip, Octavia. It’s just a delivery.
I hope.
After the last few months, anything’s fucking possible at this point.
I open the door and find the acne-ridden guy holding the box out to me. “Octavia Royal?”
“That’s me. Who sent this?” I ask, skeptical as hell as I take the box from his outstretched hands. The black rectangular box is heavier than it looks, and I sag a little as I take its weight in my arms. Apparently I need to work out more.
He shrugs and thrusts his gadget thing in my face. “I have no idea, I just make the deliveries. I don’t ask questions. Sign here, please.”
I take the stylus from him and squiggle on the screen. He takes the gadget back with a nod before loping back to his van and driving down the lane to the still open gate. I wait until he’s gone and close the gate, securing it once more before taking the box to the kitchen.
I contemplate calling East before opening it, but that seems way too dramatic. It’s only a box. From an unknown source. With unknown contents.
Fun times.
I take a deep breath and undo the black ribbon that secures the lid, practically holding my breath as my heart races like I’m waiting for a bomb to go off or something.
I really need to watch fewer thrillers. My mind is in hyperdrive right now.
As I pull the ribbons of the bow, a card falls to my feet.
It’s the same black card that always comes with the flowers. Except this time, there’s red lettering on the back.
For the Gala,
With Compliments
TKS
Well, that isn’t creepy at all. I’m kind of glad I made the decision to not go to the gala.
I lift the lid and find black tissue paper inside.
Whoever this is needs a new color scheme.
I work my way through the tissue paper and gasp when I finally uncover the contents. I lift the soft material from the box, eyes going wide when I realize what it is.
The floor-length gown is breathtaking. The creamy champagne material is covered in white lace, and the neckline plunges down to the navel. It has a choker design with a high back and capped sleeves.
It really is stunning.
Creepy, but stunning.
I lay it over one of the barstools and rummage through the rest of the tissue paper, but there isn’t anything else in the box. No extra notes or anything.
I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to decide whether or not I should maybe tell someone about the dress when my back door swings open, and I find East standing there with Lincoln, Finley, and Maverick.
