Page 28 of Texting Mr. Stranger

I need you to come to this address and bring a bag of my things. Press the buzzer and act casual, okay? Just say you’re here to see Emily and drop off some stuff. Then I should be able to come down and meet you.

I stand up immediately, my instincts pricking.Something’s wrong. Is it that guy?

I’m texting you from the bathroom. He’s being really pushy. He hasn’t threatened me, but every time I mention leaving, he gets weird and aggressive. I don’t want to push him. I’ve told him I’ll stay again but need some stuff.

Okay. I’m on the way. You haven’t sent the address, though.

Crap. Okay. Sending now.

A moment later, a pin appears. I rush into Emily’s bedroom and grab a few things to make it look realistic. Quickly packing the bag, I flinch when another text comes through.

Hurry, please, Bella.

She knows I don’t have a car. Getting to the pinned location will take me at least two hours. No, I can get a cab!

It shouldn’t be longer than an hour. I’m going to call a cab.

An hour? Okay.

“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath. Emily isn’t the sort of friend to come out and say something isn’t good enough, but thatokaytells me everything I need.

Wracking my brain, I try to think of somebody with a car that could get me there quicker. Mr. Hudson from across the hall doesn’t drive. Neither does Mom, and that’s it. Isn’t that sad? I don’t have anybody else.

Except, maybe, there’s one person I could ask—a tall, broad, muscular, intimidating man who would put the fear of God into any clinging date who wanted to pretend to be a tough guy.

Now he’s getting angry because I’m “taking too long” in the bathroom. I won’t be able to text for a while.

I won’t be long,I reply.I promise.

Getting over the nerves and the doubt, I go to Matt’s number and clickcall. As it rings, I try to stay calm and not overthink everything. My mind is torn apart by all the bad things that could happen to Emily. Still, if it was that bad, shouldn’t we call the cops?

“Bella?” Matt says, his voice tight. Concern bubbles up in his savage tone.“Bella?”

It takes me a moment to respond. The concern in his voice makes my chest go all tight and warm. It’s like he’s worried about me.

“Sorry to call,” I say quickly. “I didn’t have anybody else.”

“What’s wrong?”

“One of my friends is stuck in her date’s apartment. He hasn’t threatened her outright yet, but he’s being really weird and intimidating about letting her leave. She asked me to bring a bag of her things so she had an exc?—”

“You need a ride there,” he says.

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Just like that?” I whisper.

He hangs up, and then a text follows.I’m bringing my bike. It’ll be easier to beat traffic. Wait outside. Wear jeans. I’ll have a jacket for you.

I quickly get changed and then carry Emily’s stuff downstairs, pacing up and down in front of my building. In a crazy short amount of time, maybe ten minutes, I hear the growl of a motorbike engine. The bike cuts around the corner, a sleek black road vehicle, not like a biker-gang bike.

Matteo isn’t wearing a helmet, his hair glistening in the light. I feel a shiver running through my body when he pulls up beside me. It’s how he stares as if he’s ready to beat Emily’s bully with his bare hands, just like the phone call.

Stepping off the bike, he opens the back part and removes a jacket and a helmet. “Put these on,” he says. “They’re Sofia’s, so …”

He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish it.It might be a bit tight. It’s nuts, considering the circumstances, but I feel my cheeks flushing at this reference to my size.

---