Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Come in,” I say, allowing her to enter my house. I shut the door softly.
Suddenly, everything feels off. The oxygen in the room decreases, and energy flows through the walls. I feel like an outsider in my home.
I steady myself. “I’ll preface this by saying I’ve had a long day. And Mallory had us doing hot yoga today, which has messed with my brain before.”
“Okay.”
I square my shoulders to hers. “I might be losing my mind, I don’t know, but I think …”
It feels ridiculous to say it. My brain’s going too fast to get a grip on my thoughts. Everything I start to say feels like a terrible overreaction.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asks. “You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m sorry. I just … Do you know the two squirting magnets you got me for my birthday?”
She nods.
“They keep moving around on my fridge. Both of them. I assumed it was Burt because he’d been here right before I noticed it the last three times. But I just got home from work, and they were moved. I know they were in the right places this morning.”
Her brows pull together. “Did he come in while you were gone?”
“He says he didn’t. And I don’t think he would’ve.”
“And you’re sure they didn’t just slide?”
“Yes. I keep them in a certain spot, and if they slid, the ones around them would have to move. They’ll be in the opposite upper corner of the fridge. Someone is moving them.”
She takes a deep breath. “Could it be Freddy?”
Fuck.
“Did you give him a key to your house?” she asks carefully.
“Yeah. I did. I mean, I got it back, but he could’ve made a copy of it.”
“Who else could it be?”
I sigh, partially relieved there’s a logical answer—and partially sick from it, too. “No one. It has to be him. He’s been texting and calling me every day, wanting another chance. Or he wants to come by and look for his sunglasses, or he thinks he left his gold chain here. Maybe he’s just trying to intimidate me or make me think I need him.”
Morgan looks around, then swipes the bottle of wine off the counter. “I’m bringing this. You’re going to get your stuff for work tomorrow and stay the night at my house.”
“That’s not necessary.”
She laughs. “Oh, it is. If Freddy’s coming in here, you don’t know what he could do. You broke up with the guy because he was doing cocaine in your bathroom.”
Fair point.
“Stay the night with me,” Morgan says. “Tomorrow, you can call a locksmith and get your locks changed. Have Burt keep a lookout. See if you can file a police report to have it on record.”
I nod.
My adrenaline begins to subside, and rational thought takes back over. While creepy and wrong on all levels, it’s just Freddy being a dick. He’s moving my magnets to bother me.
I bite my lip.
What if it’s not just moving my magnets …
My stomach churns as I fight myself not to go there.
“Come on,” Morgan says. “Let’s get your stuff and get out of here.”
“Okay.”
I take a step when my phone vibrates. There are several missed texts spanning the last twenty minutes. I groan, hoping to hell it’s not Freddy blowing me up. I’m not sure I can handle that right now.
Troy: It would be more fun if I knew your endgame.
Troy: I take it you disagree.
Troy: Are you okay?
Troy: Dahlia?
Troy: I know I’m not entitled to a response within a certain timeframe, but just let me know you’re okay.
Troy: For fuck’s sake.
“Who is that?” Morgan has the baseball bat I keep by the door angled over her shoulder.
“Troy.”
She grins. “You know, this is his specialty. Maybe you should ask him for advice.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not? This seems like the most authentic way for you to get that man over here.”
“That crosses a line from professional to personal.”
“I think—”
“No,” I say emphatically. “This is just Freddy being a jerk. I won’t embarrass myself by telling him my ex is moving my magnets around.” I roll my eyes and start up the steps. “That even sounds silly.”
“It’s silly until it’s not.”
“That’s why I’ll call the police and file a report. I need to put my phone on the charger first.”
We clear the upstairs with the bat positioned for a grand slam. Then I head to my bedroom and plug my phone into the wall. Before I look up the number for the police department, I open my texts again.
Me: Hey. Sorry about that. My friend Morgan showed up. I’m fine.
Troy: Good to hear.
Me: I’ll see you in the morning.
Troy: Good night.
For once, I’m too preoccupied to taunt him with emoji. I make a police report instead.
Chapter Seven
Dahlia
There’s not enough coffee in the world to get me through today.
I yawn, filling my mug before I even bother going to my office. I had a cup at Morgan’s before I left for work. But between her house’s subzero temperature, her cat clawing at my bedroom door all night, and the neighbor’s car alarm waking me up at four o’clock, the single cup didn’t touch my level of exhaustion.