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My farking home
MIA
Shocked doesn’t begin to cover the feeling I get when Portia answers my call.
“Never expected hell to freeze over in the heat of a Florida summer, yet here we are,” she snarks, and the sound of her dainty voice makes my heart squeeze, even after all this time.
Deep breath.
“Hey, butter butt. How are you?”
Over the crack of the phone line, I hear her huff at my use of her dreaded juvenile nickname.
“I’m fine, I suppose. Just another Sunday. We got home from church a few minutes ago.”
Silence settles. Neither of us knows what to say. Too many words left unsaid and far too much time without connecting has strained our relationship. Possibly more than that horrible act of violence she suffered.
“So to what do I owe this pleasure? It’s not my birthday. Not that those even warrant a call from you.”
Ouch.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, unsure of what I’m apologizing for.
Not calling on her birthday? The assault? The lack of contact? Not being able to protect her? Spying on her from afar? All of the above?
“That’s nice. What do you want?”
I deserve that.
“Listen, something is happening with me, and I’m afraid it could spill over to you.”
Again.
Even when I stay away, my life affects her.
Her tone shifts, a hint of alarm threading her words. “What do you mean? Are you all right?”
“This isn’t about me.” I pause to catch my breath. “Well, itisabout me, but that’s not the purpose of the call. I need you to be vigilant until we handle it. Do you have a gun? Is your husband going to be with you all day?”
“What the hell, Mia? Are you kidding me? A gun?”
I should know if she’s pro-gun or not. I should know if her husband is the protective type. I should know a lot of things. But social media activity and ring cams only tell you so much. And Portia’s been private since the attack.
“I don’t have much time to explain, but I’ll give you the short version.” I tug in another huge swell of air, exhaling shakily. “Someone I used to work with is involved in some shady shit. I found out about it, and now he’s threatening me and my loved ones. The threat I got today specifically references you and Claire. We’re going after him today, but until he’s caught, can you stay inside? Do you have a weapon? And don’t open the door to anyone, even if they seem normal through the peephole. Close your shades and keep your daughter inside too. Can you do that? Please, promise me.”
“I have so many questions. For starters, I’m shocked to hear you refer to me asyour loved one. That’s hilarious. Last time I checked, if you love someone, you return their calls and try to be a part of their life, especially if they’ve been begging for more than a decade. And second, who is thiswe?”
“What?”
“You said ‘we’re going after him.’ Does that mean the cops? Are you a cop?” She groans and sighs audibly. “I hate that I don’t have a clue what you do for a living, but I know it’s not digital app design or whatever the hell bullshit you told us.”
“Butter butt, listen. You have no idea how sorry I am for shutting you out. I regret it every day, and I want to fix it.I really do.And I hope you’ll answer the next time I call. I promise it’ll be soon. I’m living in Florida again, and I’d love to see you. There’s no time right now for me to tell you all the things I need to. Until then, can you promise me you’ll stay safe and keep your guard up?”
Sniffles cut through the silence that follows.
“I will be careful. Yes, I have a gun and know how to use it. And yes, my husband is home with me today, and I’ll make sure we stay inside. Thanks for the warning. What about Claire?”
“She wouldn’t pick up my call. Can you contact her and stress the importance of keeping her and her family safe until we catch this guy?”
