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So they expected him to sit outside till five in the morning?
A growling sound comes from his stomach, and he covers it with his hands, rolling his lips and casting his gaze down again.
Okay.
I have no idea how to act here because on the rare occasions I’ve dealt with kids, they usually stayed far away. “Wash your hands.” I motion with my chin toward the bathroom. “And come back to eat.” The words are barely out of my mouth, and he already sprints to do as I say, which alarms me, but I shake my head.
I’ll go insane and really stab one of his parents if I delve too deep into the psychology of why the kid acts the way he does.
Quickly washing my hands as well, I grab two plates and fill them with pasta before heating it in the microwave. I take out the second plate just as he returns, hopping on one of the chairs, his stomach rumbling even louder when I place his food in front of him along with a fork and some napkins. “Here.” That’s all the command he needs as he practically starts inhaling the pasta, eating so fast I wonder if he even chews it. “Slow down.” He stills at this, shooting me a worried glance, and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose because my fist really itches to leave an imprint on his asshole of a father’s face. “You can eat. It’s okay. Just chew it.” He nods and resumes eating, albeit thankfully slower.
He stares at the TV, so I ask, “Would you like me to turn it on?” He nods again, and I grab the remote, flipping through the channels and finding a cartoon, to my shock, considering the time. Once it starts playing, his whole attention zeros in on it, and he continues to munch on his pasta.
I guess he’ll stay here till five, and in the morning, I’ll have a talk with his parents in the nicest way possible.
My own hunger reminds me to eat too, and I reach for my plate when I remember about the box and rip off the bow, removing the lid and seeing a black velvet box inside.
Ah, Giselle decided to get me something pretty?
I have no jewelry, could never afford it, and while I’ll have to probably send it back to her because it’s too expensive, I’m curious to check it out.
Flipping the box open, though, I freeze as my heartbeat stops only to start beating so fast that I feel the pulse in my neck and sweat breaks on my skin while thousands of screams echo in my head, one more agonizing than the previous one.
The box falls on the floor right along with a golden necklace there, a heart-shaped medallion with my family’s picture inside it, our smiling faces staring back at me.
He sees his grip on me, so I gulp for breath and cough when he wraps his fingers around my necklace, and I wish to kick him or do something so he wouldn’t touch it.
Wouldn’t tarnish the gift my parents gave me on my fifteenth birthday just a few days ago.
I can only cry, though, when he tugs on it hard, pain ricocheting all over me, and he winks at me. “I need a little souvenir. If I can’t take you, then I should at least have this, don’t you think?”
I swallow past the bile in my throat, breathing air into my lungs, and grip the kitchen counter so hard my knuckles turn white, mentally counting to ten to control the slowly rising panic that will send me into a catastrophic pit.
While doing so, I see the note attached underneath the lid, its red color akin to the blood that seeped around me on that fateful day.
Just a name.
Octavius Reed
I have no idea who it is or how he’s connected to my past, but I’ll get to the bottom of this.
Because this necklace tells me one thing.
The murderer who wiped away my entire family is alive.
He’s watching and waiting.
Waiting to end what he had started almost thirteen years ago and couldn’t finish because someone stopped him.
Stopped him from killing me, making me the only victim who ever escaped his clutches alive.
Octavius Reed.
Whoever he is…he has answers for me.
And I’ll get them.
No matter what I have to do in order to achieve that.
