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I shake my head. “I’ll handle it. But thank you.”

“Well, why don’t you come upstairs and sit with me while you do it?”

I consider it but the last thing I want is to drag my neighbors into my mess any more than I have. “Thank you so much but I’m okay. I appreciate the offer.”

She senses my need for space and leaves me to it. The moment the door closes I scream and knock everything off my kitchen counter. Wooden spoons and other utensils scatter over the floor.

I call the police and tell them about Pax and they promise to look into it. I call Laurie after sending her photos, but she doesn’t answer. She’s got a friend’s kid’s baptism this week over in Michigan. I completely forgot.

This is why it sucks to not have family. For the first time in years I truly feel the loss and abandonment that I thought I was surely over.

It’s an hour later when Laurie calls me, and I sob down the phone to her. She cries too, scared for me and sad that she can’t get back yet. There are no flights, but even if there was a flight, I wouldn’t let her take it.

“I wish I knew what to do,” she mutters. “I feel useless.”

“Me too,” I reply, feeling for the mace spray in my pocket. “I’ve put in a report about him but what if it makes it worse? They’ll question him, they won’t be able to prove anything and then he’ll just get worse.”

“He’ll get bored. He’s just sour that you’ve left him and even more sour that you went away with Mr. Cuntyflaps.”

“Don’t call him that,” I grumble, feeling defensive of him despite the fact he doesn’t deserve it right now.

Somebody calls her name in the background.

“You go,” I say to her softly and reassuringly, “I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?”

“You know I will. And I want to hear all about your tics during the service.”

“Oh, honey… it was hell. I’ll call you later.”

We disconnect the call and I suddenly feel so alone again. My eyes are stinging from how much I’ve been crying and am still crying.

I sit alone in my apartment, jittery, nervous, clicking a pen and squeezing my stress ball. I have a can of mace beside me and I’m ready to use it if necessary.

Rose: Why are you doing this to me?

My phone rings, it’s Pax. I shouldn’t answer but I’m so mad.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, sniffling clear enough for him to hear. “I haven’t done anything to you. I was never bad to you.”

“I’ll come over; we can talk face to face.”

“No,” I reply firmly. “Just leave me alone. Stop torturing me and leave me the fuck alone.”

I hang up and block all incoming calls. I can still call the cops if I need but Pax can’t call me now.

What did I ever do to anyone to deserve this?

There’s a knock at my door which is odd because I didn’t hear the buzzer sound.

I hug a pillow tighter to my chest. Is it him? I daren’t move.

“Rose? It’s me, Izabella, I’m coming in, okay? Your neighbor is with me, Betty. She’s going to use the spare key.”

I get up and pad to the door before they can use said key and the moment Izabella’s kind eyes and face come into view I break down and sob into her shoulder.

“Oh, sweet girl,” she whispers, holding me like I imagine my mother would have. She strokes my hair and rocks us both. “It’s going to be okay.”

I lean back and wipe my eyes on a tissue I grab off the counter. “How did you know?”

“Laurie called.”

My heart warms for my friend.

“But you should have called me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” I say, still trembling with adrenaline and fear.

Hey gray eyes glow with sorrow. “You could never bother me. We’re friends.” Will she still want to be my friend if she knows that Ezra tried to kiss me this morning?

“Please don’t tell Mr. Conti,” I beg, “I don’t want to cause anymore issues at work.”

“He should know what his psychopathic staff are doing. Have you reported it to HR?”

I nod. “I did all of that today.”

“Then he might know already.”

“He’s home with his wife and I asked them to keep it quiet. I don’t want anybody thinking I’m causing drama.”

She smiles softly, her eyes still sad and concerned. “You can’t help that you chose the wrong guy. This is not your fault.”

“You shouldn’t be dragged into this either. I don’t know the extent of his crazy. You should go.”

“Not without you,” she states, pulling me towards my bedroom. “Pack what you need, you’re coming to stay with me and Mario until it’s safe to go home.”

“But…”

“No buts. Come on. We’ve got space.”

I consider my options and realize hers is the best option I have. “Thank you, Izabella.”

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