Is he safe? Alive?
When did I start worrying about his safety?
I need my head checked. But I will never make the initiative to do so. In a roundabout way, I'm starting to accept my new reality.
I'm falling in love with my stalker. The shadow that haunts me in the night. The man that hunts me down and completely wrecks my entire world.
And not only do I have to come to terms with that, but the fact that my life will now be consumed with worry. He's dangerous, but the situations he puts himself in are just as terrifying. One day, he could go out and never come back home.
How do I deal with that?
Standing, I make my way into the kitchen to make myself a mixed drink. I flip on the light but pause immediately.
Resting on the counter is a red rose, with the thorns clipped. For the life of me, I can't figure out why tears spring to my eyes. Maybe because now that I care about the stupid asshole, I don't know if this is the last time I'll get a rose or not.
Sniffing, I walk over to the rose and pick it up, twirling the stem in my fingers.
"Goddammit, Zade," I mutter aloud. "I'll never forgive you if you die."
A loud buzzing from my phone wakes me out of a dead sleep. Drool leaks down my cheek, and I absently swipe at it with one hand while I grab my phone with the other.
The bright light draws out an immediate headache as I squint at the screen. It’s only eleven o’clock at night. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour.
My phone buzzes again, alerting me to a text message. Opening the app, I see the Daya has texted me several times.
DAYA: Are you awake?
DAYA: I’m really upset right now and could use a friend.
DAYA: Will you come over?
DAYA: I’d really appreciate it.
I frown, both confused and worried. We haven’t spoken since we parted ways earlier, after the police collected all of our evidence. She had to go to her niece’s birthday party, and I haven’t spoken with her since.
Tapping the Call button, I bring the phone to my ear and sit up. The phone just rings before the automated message comes up.
My heart starts to pound as I swing my legs over the bed and pad over to my dresser, rummaging through the drawers until I find sweatpants and a hoodie.
I call Daya’s phone two more times, and by the time the automated message kicks on, I’m panicking.
Swiping my keys from by the front door, I rush out of the house and into my car. It’s sprinkling outside, the rain pattering lightly against the windows as I race down my long driveway and towards Daya’s house.
During the drive, I call her phone several more times. But she never answers.
When I’m a few miles away, I notice headlights behind me closing in. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I step on the gas further, a sinking feeling in my chest.
Something about this isn’t right.
Daya would never text me to come over and then ignore me.
And the car behind me is becoming dangerously close, nearly disappearing behind the back of my car.
“What the…”
I’m violently jerked forward, my head nearly smacking off the steering wheel. A startled scream slips free as my car starts to spin.
I regain control of the car, stepping on the gas harder and attempting to gain some space between us. I scramble for my phone but realize it’s on the floor of the passenger seat.
It must’ve flown from my hand when the van crashed into me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Who the fuck is after me? It could be Max, finally getting his revenge for a murder I had nothing to do with. Or it could be the men Mark sicced on me. Finally coming to collect me.
The rev of their engine is my only warning. This time, I’m prepared for the hit, despite the force of it still taking my breath away.
Before I can wrangle control over the vehicle, they're crashing into me again. My car whips side-to-side as I fight for control. My chest pumps with adrenaline and panic, and dread has started to form in the pit of my stomach. I have a sinking feeling that I’m not going to be able to get out of this.
My gas pedal can’t go down any further, and the higher the speed, the more I lose control.
It takes one more hit before I go careening off the side of the road and into a ditch. My world spins as the bumper of my car hits the ditch at an angle before my car upends, flipping over on itself twice before landing harshly on the roof.
The impact is deafening as the windows explode. Glass shards blast against me from all directions, slicing my skin to shreds.
When everything settles, I realize I’m still screaming.
I suck in a sharp breath, the sound nearly animalistic as panic takes over. I’m upside down, still strapped into my seat. The seatbelt is digging painfully into my chest, constricting my already tight lungs further.