when I trudged up to my dorm room and didn’t find a note or flowers waiting for me had me sagging against the wall. The sting of Amir’s harsh treatment was far too fresh for me to deal with one more thing.
Elena, Helen, and her boyfriend, Theo, were hanging out in our shared living area. El was in the armchair with her laptop and headphones on. Helen and Theo were snuggled on the love seat. Both had books opened in their laps, but they seemed to be ignoring them and paying attention to each other.
That was, until I walked in. Helen straightened, giving me a quick wave. “Hey, Z. Check the table, girlie. You got a treat.”
“Oooh, a treat? What did I do to deserve that?”
She shot me a red-lipped grin. Helen’s superpower, besides, of course, being a badass, was her red lipstick never faded. I’d walked in on her and Theo making out enough times to know kissing didn’t destroy it. She’d painted it on my lips once, and it had immediately smeared all over my teeth, confirming I wasn’t a red-lip girl—not like her. But who was?
“Hey, Zadie,” Theo greeted.
My cheeks warmed. “Hi, Theo.” I used to think Helen’s boyfriend was a laughing frat bro like Deacon Forrestor. He had that look, and he’d once been friends with Deacon too, but he wasn’t like that at all. I still blushed when making direct eye contact with him, because…well, he was Theo, and he was just as beautiful and badass as Helen.
I kicked off my Chucks, dropped my messenger bag carefully by the door, and headed to the small table in the kitchen nook we never used for eating. My heart stopped.
Two daisies, tied together with twine, lay there with a folded piece of paper beside them. This wasn’t a treat. This was a nightmare.
Unfolding the paper, I held my breath as I read the words that had been typed there.
Daisies are white
Your eyes are blue
I think about you at night
I think of you in the morning too
- D
Picking up the flowers and note, I swiveled around. “Where was this?”
Helen’s perfectly arched brows flattened. “Someone left it propped against the door. Why? What does it say?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”
Elena hopped up from her chair, her headphones around her neck and hand held out. “Let me see this ‘nothing.’ Do you have a secret admirer, Zadie?”
“No.” I gripped the paper at my side. “It’s really nothing.”
She snatched it out of my hand before I could move to stop her and read the note out loud. Then, with a bemused expression, she handed it back.
“Who’s D?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
I was almost certain I knew exactly who D was, and though it had been three weeks since I received my first note from him, I still couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Drew had tracked me down after a blissfully long period of silence.
She shrugged. “Well, he writes terrible poetry, so I can already tell he’s not good enough for you. That’s not even mentioning the fact that he’s obviously a pussy if he can’t tell you to your face that he’s into you.”
I forced out a laugh. “Yeah. It’s kind of creepy too, don’t you think?”
“Total creep city,” she agreed. “If some kid left me weirdo poetry, I would laugh in his face if he ever got the guts to approach me. Then I’d hand him the origami middle finger I made out of it.”
This laugh, I didn’t have to force. Leave it to Elena to knock me out of my head and doomsday mood.
“Oh my god,” Helen groaned. “If some dude is dumb enough to be into you, let’s hope he’s still smart enough to know you aren’t a terrible poetry and flowers girl. I do not want to have to bear witness to his ruthless murder.”
El tipped her chin. “What kind of girl am I?”
“What’s the word I’m looking for?” Hells clicked her fingers. “Oh yeah. Fire and brimstone. That’s more your speed.”
Elena feigned trying to snatch the poem back. “Give me that, Z. I suddenly feel the need to start on my origami middle finger.”
Spinning out of her reach, I escaped into my bedroom while Hells and El bickered back and forth. It was lucky they only bickered and didn’t have hair-pulling, knock-down, drag-out fights. They’d gone to high school together, and to say they hadn’t gotten along would have been an understatement. But, like in romance novels, forced proximity had gotten to them, and I was pretty certain they both held a grudging respect for each other. Unless, of course, Elena was biding her time before sucking our souls out, like Helen had accused her of last week.
Opening the drawer of my bedside table, I took out the other three poems and added the latest to the stack. When the first one came, it had sent an icy chill down my spine and a wave of panic so suffocating, I’d nearly fainted. I’d called my lawyer in Oregon to ensure my order of protection was still good. It was, but it didn’t make me feel any safer.
My phone rang while I stared at the thin stack of papers like a deadly weapon, and my heart leaped into my throat.
Mom calling…
I answered.
“Hey, sweet thing,” she greeted.
“Hi! What’s shakin’, Mama?” I replied.
“Nada. I had a minute of downtime, so I’m calling my sweet girl.”
Flopping back on my bed, I smiled with tears in my eyes. “Did you know I needed to hear your voice?”
“I had an inkling, like the universe was pushing me to my phone. What’s up, honey?”
This would be the perfect time to dump my stress on my mother. Actually, three weeks ago, when the first note arrived, would have been even better. She’d lived through the turmoil of Drew the first time around and hadn’t once faltered in her support, no matter how hard I’d leaned on her. And I’d leaned hard.
But circumstances had changed over the last two years. Mom and Dad had gotten divorced after the year Drew relentlessly stalked and harassed me and my family. The stress we went through had been a big part of the straw that broke their marriage’s back.
Mom remarried her college boyfriend and moved to California. Dad was still in Oregon, smoking a lot of weed and wallowing in his heartbreak. My stepdad, Max, was a nice man, and Mom was mad about him, but three months ago, he had been diagnosed with leukemia, and their newlywed life had been flipped upside down. She had become his caregiver, and I really wanted to be the person she leaned on.
So I couldn’t give her this. Not one more thing. My dad either. If it escalated beyond notes and flowers, I might have to, but for now, I was handling it.
“I’m okay. I think it’s your basic homesickness, slash being worried about Max, slash Dad, slash studying my brains out.”
Mom sighed. “I can’t do anything about your father except tell you he’s a grown man and wouldn’t want you fretting over him, but I know that doesn’t help. I do have a cure for your homesickness, though. Why don’t you come home for the weekend?”
I wish. Assuming Amir expected me at his house on the weekends, going home, even though it was only an hour away, wasn’t a possibility.
“I can’t, Mom. Not right now. I’m sorry.”
She tsked. “No, don’t be sorry. What if I bring Eli up next weekend and we have lunch with you? I don’t think Max is up for the ride, but I think I can pry Eli from his video games long enough to get him to come along.”
“Yes.” My response was instant. Seeing my mom would buoy me, and Max’s sixteen-year-old son, Eli, was more delightful than a teenage boy had any right to be. When our parents married, we’d bonded easily, even though we’d both grown up as only children. Or maybe that was why we’d bonded so easily, since we had each admitted to always wanting a sibling. “Please come to visit. Eli will probably just want to drool over my suitemates, but I don’t even care as long as I get to smoosh his face.”
Mom let out a soft laugh. “He’s under the impression he played it cool in front of them. Let’s let him believe that, okay?”
When Eli visited last semester, he’d laid eyes on Helen and Elena and tripped over his oversized feet. Cool, he was not. Charming and adorable? For sure. But I didn’t think teenage boys were into being called adorable.
I giggled. “No problem.”
“As for Max…” Her sigh was so heavy, I nearly felt the weight of it on my shoulders. “He’s hanging in there, baby. His body is working hard right now, and he’s so tired, but he was in good shape before his diagnosis, so he has that going for him. I’m staying optimistic, and so is he. We’re just in the thick of things right now, and it feels…well, it’s scary.”
My chin quivered, but I pushed the worry out of my voice. She had enough of her own. She didn’t need mine added to it. “Tell me if you need me, Mama, okay? I can put aside my studying to help you.”
“Oh, Zadie, baby, I love you. We have an excellent support system around us. You can help me most by kicking butt in school and being my very cool daughter. Anytime you need me, I’m here. Always, always, no matter what’s going on with Max or Eli. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” That didn’t mean I’d lay my worries on her. I just couldn’t do that to her again. Not after Drew tore us apart the first time.
I had finally gotten my mind focused on studying when my phone chimed with a text. I ignored it, then it chimed again a minute later, so I picked it up to check it.
And wished I hadn’t.
MyCaptor: Send me a picture to show me where you are.
MyCaptor: What did I say about replying when I text you?
With a sigh, I snapped a picture of my legs and feet. My laptop and notebook were covering most of me, so it was pretty obvious what I was up to.
Me: Is this good enough?
MyCaptor: Face, Zadie.
I sent him a picture of me snarling. I wished I could flip him off, but he’d probably break down my door to punish me if I did. After the way he treated me earlier, he was the last person I wanted to see.
MyCaptor: Don’t be cute with me.
Me: I wasn’t trying to be. That was my disgruntled face.
MyCaptor: Why would you have any reason to be disgruntled?
Me: Do you really not remember what went down in your kitchen this afternoon?
MyCaptor: I do. But I don’t understand why you’re disgruntled.
Me: No reason. How was the pizza?
MyCaptor: Fucking delicious. Best I ever had.
Me: Good. I’m glad you don’t regret trashing the dinner I was making.
MyCaptor: Not for a second.
Me: Okay, well, good. I love that for you.
MyCaptor: Sarcasm?
Me: Never.
MyCaptor: Sarcasm. You’re brave over text, little mama.
Me: I’m just tired and need to study.
MyCaptor: Go. Study. Be here tomorrow.
Me: K. Goodnight, Amir.
MyCaptor: Be good, Zadie.
I flung my phone across my bed. I had the fleeting fantasy of just not showing up tomorrow or ever again. What would he do? It was pretty obvious he could barely stand to be in my presence.
But I already had one obsessive, dangerous man hunting me down. I didn’t think I could bear another. Besides, running from Amir would defeat my entire purpose for seeking him out in the first place.
As much as he couldn’t stand the sight of me, I was hoping if push came to shove, he’d remember his unspoken promise.
“Whatever we are to each other when I walk out of your door, you’ll tell me if this guy comes back.”
When he said that, I’d been in his lap, the taste of him on my lips. He hadn’t hated me, and I’d thought I might be able to really like him, despite, you know, the gun, captivity, and whole drug dealer thing. Things had quickly changed, though. The bubble we’d created that night had burst in a gory, bloody fashion.
Amir didn’t have to like me to protect me, though. If I was his property, he wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch me. At least…I hoped that was true.
If it wasn’t, then I was on my own. There was no one else I’d be willing to bring into Drew’s chaotic obsession. Not my mom, my dad, or my suitemates. My high school friends and my family had gone through hell during Drew’s reign of terror. I’d limped away with divorced parents and friends who’d distanced themselves so much, we hadn’t ever found our way back to each other.
Never again.
Amir…well, he could handle himself. He had the arsenal to prove it. His presence in my life was like a big stop sign. If Drew had two brain cells, he’d heed the directive. And then, when he left me alone again and Amir freed me from his ownership, I could walk away. I’d belong to no one but myself. I’d be free.
