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He answers the phone after two rings. “Liz?”
I can’t find words to answer him.
“Liz?” he repeats. I hear the higher pitch of his voice.
And I still can’t find the words.
“Liz, answer me. I can hear you breathing. Are you okay? Shit, I’m on my way. Where are you? Are you home?”
I hear tires screeching on the other side of the line. I have to tell him where to find me. If he can’t find me, he can’t help me.
“I’m home. Please come. Please hurry.”
“I’m right down the street. I’m already in the car. I’m coming. Stay put.”
I drop the phone and hug my legs up to my chest as my body is racked with uncontrollable shaking.
Chapter 9
Ethan
I was five minutes away, but I make it in three. My heart is beating frantically in my chest, and I think I’m on the verge of a heart attack.
All I can think about is getting to Liz.
I hear the phone drop to the ground, and she’s no longer talking to me. “Goddamnit, Liz, answer me!” I yell into the phone.
Still no answer.
I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know if she needs an ambulance again.
No, she would have called 911 if it was an emergency. She wouldn’t have called me, right? Unless she’s scared to call them. She doesn’t like to draw attention to herself. But, surely, she would call in an emergency.
I screech to a stop in front of her building and jump out of my car. I take the stairs two at a time. It’s the longest three flights of stairs of my life. My desperate need to get to Liz is blinding me to everything else. I can’t even remember how I arrived at her building.
Then I see her, huddled into herself outside her apartment. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her body, and her face is hidden in her legs.
“Liz? Are you okay?” She doesn’t look up.
I run up to her and put my arms on her shoulders. “Liz, I need you to talk to me,” I say urgently. “I’m two seconds from calling for an ambulance.”
At first, she doesn’t respond, but then she slowly looks up at me. Her body is trembling. “Flowers,” she says.
“Flowers? What about flowers?” I ask in a calming voice.
She looks over to her right. I see it then. A vase of red and white flowers. They’re tipped over, the water going all over the carpet. And next to the vase, I see the white note card. I pick it up, anxiety crawling up my spine.
As I read it to myself, fear begins to grow. This is next-level creepy, bordering on stalker-ish.
Liz needs me. She’s never needed me before. I’m not going to fail her.
“Liz, look at me, babe. I need you to focus. You can trust me. I don’t want you to go into your apartment.”
She shakes her head at me. But doesn’t say anything.
“I want you to listen,” I tell her with a gentle demand, hardening my tone. “It’s not safe here. I’m taking you somewhere safe. I need you to come with me.”
How am I going to get her out of here? Fucking stairs. I can’t risk carrying her down those stairs. I have to get her to walk.
