Page 89 of Call You Mine

If he doesn’t leave, I’ll be kicking him out myself.

Suddenly, my phone rings, after three incoming messages back-to-back. “Just go, Jere. Being alone, in silence, might dome some good before I have to go home and face the reality of how my life’s about to change.”

He nods, setting the towel in his hand on the counter. “If you need anything, call me. Maybe the two of us can start a life together if our significant others don’t accept us for who we are.” I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his offer, and more so at the fact he doesn’t seem to joke in the slightest.

“Go Jere, before I change my mind.”

As he walks away, his earlier comment flashes in my mind. Was I not excited? It was a baby. I was growing a fucking life inside of me, a tiny little human I made with the man I was one hundred percent sure I was in love with. Then why did I feel so uneasy? I should have been thrilled, ecstatic to share the news with him and everyone, but I couldn’t even say it out loud.

Looking down at my phone as it chimes once more, I open the unread messages, dropping another stack of glasses onto the ground when I nearly fall back from the shock of what I see on my screen.

“No,” I cry out, staring at the photo that's just come in. What have I done?

There’s a message underneath the photo, a photo of Luke, his face bloody and bruised as he sits tied to a chair. This can’t be real.

2124173422: Did you know fellow conspirators are typically found equally guilty as the perpetrators themselves?

2124173422: Tell me, carina, would you consider this man guilty?

2124173422: Because I do, and so are you. Run if you haven’t yet, Snow. I’m getting closer. - XOXO, E

Panic floods within me as I frantically scroll through my phone and pull up the last number I have for Luke, the same one he hasn’t been answering at. I reach a hand out to the bar top to steady myself, praying he answers this once. “The voice mailbox for this number is full…”

I hang up and try again, but the same message comes up.

Should I call the cops? No, I haven’t yet because if anyone’s guilty, it’s me. I am the one who ran after stabbing my husband in the neck with his own knife. Sure, it was in self-defense, but it’s my word against the corpse of a dead man. Even in death, I’m sure Enzo holds more power.

Unsure of what else to do, I call Damon, hoping he’ll answer me. “Answer me,” I curse to myself when the phone just keeps ringing.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

Beep.

“Damon, it’s me. I…” I pause, not knowing what to even say to him. If I tell him the truth, at least some version of it, tell him someone’s been sending me threatening messages and I now fear they’ve stepped it up and are stalking me and hurting people I know, he’ll lose his shit. Not to mention he won’t let up until I confess everything, and I don’t think I will ever be able to do that.

I realize I’ve been silent for too long. There’s no way he won’t think something is wrong. I clear my throat. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be closing alone tonight. Jeremy went home and I have maybe about another half hour before I’m done here.” And now I’m rambling. “I’m probably fine I just, I swear I was just hearing things but…” Behind me a glass falls and I jump, shrieking into the phone. “Shit,” I curse before the line dies. When I look down at the phone in my hand, I see my phone battery has died.

“Fuck, fuck,” I scream, tossing a glass across the room toward the front door. It shatters against the wall just as a woman squeals when it flies just past her head.

“Holy shit, what the fuck? Are you crazy?” she cries out, and my blood runs cold when I see her face come into view.

Long, blonde hair combed perfectly in tight waves which fall along her shoulders and back—a stark contrast to the navy blue dress she’s wearing—appears under the dim light of the room. I’m jolted back, dropping the rest of the glasses that had survived Jeremy’s earlier mishap, jumping when the shards of glass hit the floor at my feet.

“How the hell did you get in here?” I ask, shocked as hell to see Carrington standing inside the bar right across from me. I hadn’t only seen her since I first came back to visit shortly after I left with Enzo, but she was the last person I thought I would see here tonight. Specifically, because our last meeting was not cordial.

Of course Carrington ignores me, strutting toward me with a frightfully angry scowl. “Where is my brother?” she demands.

I shake my head, my body suddenly tingling and going numb. “What?”

“Don’t play stupid and answer me, bitch.” Carrington steps up to the bar and reaches for me, catching me off guard and grabbing me by my hair to pull me closer.

“Ow, let go of me, you crazy bitch!” I try to pull away, but she’s fucking ravenous tonight.

“I know you’ve talked to him. He told me last month he was back in town and he’d been in contact with you. Said he ran into you in New York and you followed him back home.”

Okay, well, that’s just bullshit. Why would Luke tell his sister about New York if we’re supposed to be under the radar? Does he not know Carrington will literally tell the entire world everything just to piss me off? Suddenly fear cripples me as Iremember the photo. Does she know he’s hurt? Did she get the same photo from Enzo?

I pull out of her grasp, though not without losing a few strands of hair. “Look Carrie, I don’t know what Luke told you, but I haven’t heard from him since the day I left New York. That was over two months ago.”

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