Page 4 of Fractured Fear

Iall but limped out of the gym after my workout with Joey. Brutal as hell, but I know he loves me. Deep down in his tiny, cold heart…way down there.

Who am I kidding? I curse his name every day when I leave that place. Literally. My parting words are, “Fuck you, old man.”

To which he responds, “See ya next time, kid.”

I allow myself Sundays to sleep in and relax. It’s not because Joey told me to rest on Sundays. It’s not that at all. The studio and gallery aren’t open so I usually laze around my apartment and watch Netflix.

On my way home, I stop by my favorite smoothie shop Starry Night Smoothies for a protein pick-me-up. A key part of my daily ritual that brings me joy because food is happiness, especially if it involves chocolate and peanut butter. Even better if I don’t have to make it.

When I sit down at the table in the back, corner my phone vibrates with an incoming call.

“Hello?”

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s so good to hear your voice.” Mom expels a breath as if she’d been holding it while waiting for me toanswer. It’s not like I made her wait long, but I guess she just misses me.

“Is everything okay? I thought we agreedIcallyou.” My eyes dart around the shop searching for anyone who might be paying too close attention to me. I can’t risk him finding me.

“I know, Spencer, but I missed you. I needed to hear your voice, and you never call me.” Mom and I weren’t especially close as I was growing up, but I’m sure she isn’t used to not having me around.

“You’re not supposed to call unless it’s an emergency. We talked about this. It has to be this way.” I reaffirm.

“But why? You won’t tell me why.” It’s the same argument every time.

I let out a sigh through my nose. “It’s best if you don’t know that either.”

“Just tell me where you are. Please. I can come be with you wherever you are,” she pleads.

“I can’t. It’ll only put you in danger.”

“Please, sweetheart. Maybe I can help.” Her begging is almost enough to make me cave. I don’t want to hurt her, but I have to keep her safe. The less she knows, the safer she will be.

“No, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Fine,” she lets out a long sigh that crackles through the phone. “I have to go. I just wanted to check in. I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.” She hangs up before I have a chance to make it up to her or even say goodbye.

When I set my phone down on the table, I notice a new text. I already know who it’s from. Or at least, I suspect. The police have told me since the number is from a burner phone, it's untraceable. My hands shake a little as I open the message. I don’t want to read it, but I need to know.

Maybe I really am a masochist.

Unknown: You never should have left. The longer you’re gone, the worse it will be when you inevitably come home. Make no mistake, I’ll be seeing you soon.

Breathe in—one, two, three, four—breathe in the fear. Breathe in the panic.

Hold it—one, two, three, four—let myself feel what I feel.

Let it out—one, two, three, four—breathe out the pain. Breathe out the lies.

The technique I learned from a self-help book doesn’t always “help,” but it makes getting through the next twenty-four hours easier.

Focus on the truths, Spencer.

It’s not the worst text he’s sent. I don’t for sure know it’shim. It’s just a text. It could be anyone. He didn’t openly threaten me and gave no indication he knows where I am. I’m safe.

He can’t touch me. He’s not here.

I read over the text again and allow my blood to simmer.The fuck you will, dickhead. You won’t be seeing my face ever again.I don’t send my words. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

In my first year here, I changed my number five times. I don’t know how he keeps getting it, but I have given up trying. At least this way I can determine if he has found me by what he says. As of right now, I live under the assumption he doesn’t know.Yet. The premise could be a dangerous one, but my options are limited.

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