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“Sure.”
Then I hang up on her. The doorbell is ringing and ringing. How annoying. When I look through the peephole, I see Norman.
What. The. Hell.
“I know you’re in there, Avery.”
There is something in his voice that hits me. I know it. Like I’ve heard it before. But that can’t be right. Have I? I never talked to him that I know of.
Usually, I would tell him to fuck off, but I want to find out what his deal is. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve always had a problem with puzzles. Once I find one, I just have to figure it out. I need all the pieces to fit together.
I open the door. He’s tall. I didn’t realize how tall he was, but he must be about six-five. And massive. Like just big. And I am not talking weight, although he probably weighs over three hundred pounds. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with a couple buttons missing. His pants are at least a size too small. This guy would be big even without the weight. He’s what most people would call big-boned.
There’s a whisper of something that I can’t grasp before it slips away from me.
“Can I help you?”
He studies me for a moment which has me frowning. I know he can speak because he just did. But it’s almost like he’s been struck mute. When he finally talks, his tone wreaks of condemnation.
“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Okay, I’ll be honest. I checked you out. I mean, you’re creeping at me over the fence.”
He steps closer, and worry shivers down my spine for the first time. His dark brown eyes are filled with hatred.
“I’m not creepy.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, you’re not creepy, although I didn’t say you were.”
“Yes, you did. You called me creepy.”
He takes another step, and I retreat, my hand on the door. I start to close it, wanting to put a barrier between us. He stops me by putting his big meaty hand on the door and pushing it. I stumble back, and he advances on me. I realize I should have left the house when he slams the front door behind him.
“Always so fucking perfect. Avery O’Bryan thinks she can do no wrong.”
I blink. I mean, it’s not hard to find out my name, and he was at the meeting the other night, but there is something else in his voice—like he knows me.
“I always think I do things wrong. Like opening the door to you. That wastotallywrong.”
He shakes his head and sneers at me. “You’re not funny.”
“I know this might surprise you, but I don’t give a fuck what you think of my humor or me.”
“Meow.”
I look down at Meredith and Benjamin. Anxiety hits me, not for myself, but for my cats. Okay, I am a little scared, but they come first.
“Fucking cats.”
When I sense him coming closer, I look up. He’s shaking with rage, and I realize he is coming after my cats. I step in front of them.
“You need to leave.” Terror is now screaming through my system. Why did I leave my phone in the kitchen? I always have that thing in my pocket, but the one time I have some psycho in my space, I leave it on the table.
“I need to do whatever the fuck I want to. You know what the worst thing about all of this is?”
“Your breath.”
His face turns darker, his gaze narrowing as he takes me in. “You don’t change, do you? It’s been almost a decade, and you still have that smart mouth on you. I always thought you were funny.”
