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The card was placed on top, and I could read the words from where I was standing.
Only your devotion can release the beast, allowing him to enjoy a taste of pleasure, fulfilling a need that burns deep within. Soon…
I pressed my hand over my lips, a moan pushing up from my throat. Who was trying to lure me into the darkness? A strange vision popped into my mind, one I’d shoved aside years before, refusing to fall into the nightmare that had almost consumed me. The one that had almost stripped me of my soul.
Blood.
So much blood.
No. No.
I purposely took a step away, gasping for air. What was this about? There’d been no strange phone calls, no one lurking at the gallery. This was crazy. Maybe I needed to get a weapon, but what? I couldn’t stand guns. Not after what I’d witnessed. The crushing weight of my loss rushed to the surface. No, wait. That was crazy. This was just another gesture, a way to try to woo me so that when the sender finally approached, I’d be amiable to his affections. The method was different, but very creative. His words skyrocketed one-liners into something extraordinary.
I forced myself to laugh. I was just being silly.
After taking a few deep breaths, I moved around the small table, opening a cabinet door and grabbing a wineglass. Then I pulled the bottle of open wine, backing away without taking another look at the package.
Then I turned out the light.
* * *
The storm was vicious, sheets of rain coming from several directions. I struggled with the groceries, running toward the door of my apartment building. One of my neighbors was just heading inside.
“Wait. Hold the door,” I called. A crack of thunder almost made me drop my bags. Then as a flash of lightning lit up the twilight sky in eerie shades of electric blue, I tipped my head to stare at the malevolent force of nature. There was no reason to be jittery, but tonight the storm was more ominous than ever before.
Just like the night that…
No. I wasn’t going down that path.
Thank God my neighbor was holding the door open. I willed myself to move forward, shivering from being soaked.
“Thank you!” I smiled at him, thankful when he waited until I was all the way inside before allowing the door to shut.
“Brutal storm,” he said. He remained standing in the lobby.
Was he expecting a tip? I was cranky from long hours. “It’s awful.” As I eased the bags to the floor in order to get my mail, I realized he was still standing there. When I turned my head, I hated the fact I was holding my breath. “Is there something else?”
“I just wanted to tell you that I saw a man outside your apartment earlier.”
“A man?”
“Maybe a courier? One of the neighbors must have let him inside. Anyway, there’s a package waiting for you.”
I had no idea why he’d felt the need to tell me, but a strange sense of foreboding nearly swallowed me whole. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“Sure thing.”
I waited until he walked away before finishing my task. Then I moved to the stairs, taking them slowly. I knew what I’d find. It had been two weeks to the day since the purple roses had arrived. Only the day before had I been forced to toss them into the trash. They’d remained fresh and beautiful, barely opening, their vibrant color the first thing I saw every morning.
I had no idea why I’d kept them, but after the initial shock of the sender’s gift and the seductive words on the card had worn off, I’d enjoyed their beauty.
I’d also kept the notes, which was ridiculous, but it felt as if I had a little secret that had nothing to do with my past. A suitor. That’s what the mystery sender would have been called years before.
As I rounded the corner, my apartment door in front of me, the same mixture of exhilaration and anxiety flooded my system. There it was. The white box.
And I couldn’t wait to see what was inside.
The container appeared the same. No larger. No smaller. After turning on the light, I tossed the groceries and my purse on the counter, carefully placing the box on my table. Before bothering to put anything into the refrigerator, I poured a glass of red wine, swirling the liquid as I studied the same red writing located on the side. The letters were capitalized, accentuated in my mind. The sender had wanted to make certain I received his gift. Had he delivered it himself or had he used a courier?
