Page 68 of (Un)Spoken

“I know that baby,” I chuckled, leaning down to capture her lips. “I’m not worried that he has your past.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” I said, gripping the back of her neck so she’d look at me. “He can have it. Because I get your future, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re making it really hard to walk away from you right now.”

“Tell me about it,” I groaned. “But the faster you get in there, the faster I can have you screaming my name.”

“Deal,” she said as she kissed my lips one last time. “You really know how to motivate a girl.”

Victoria waved at me as she stepped inside the main lodge, and I waited until the door shut behind her to head to my cabin. Even though the sun had set hours ago, there was still life around me, bugs humming in the air and squirrels scurrying across the yard. I waved as I walked by the fire pits, a couple of families up late making s’mores and telling tales by the fires.

What would it be like here when the winter started? Would this all be a sea of white, the snow transforming the mountains yet again? I stared at my little cabin tucked at the edge of the woods and wondered how it would feel to leave it behind. I’d toyed with the idea of creating permanent roots here for weeks, but now, the idea was starting to grow teeth. Even though I told Emilia I wouldn’t be moving in anytime soon, eventually, I wanted us all under one roof. It would be hard enough splitting time with Cam. When she was home, I wanted us to be all together.

Maybe it was time to look into some real estate, something we could all grow into. As I glanced over my shoulder at Victoria’s apartment, I wondered what she would think about that. Hopefully, she’d be on board, but she had yet to tell me her plans for the future. While it’d be great if she stuck in town, I knew better than to give that dream a voicejust yet. She needed to decide what would be best for both her and Emilia, not to mention, Cam.

And as much as I wanted our home to be here, in the end, it didn’t really matter. Home was the two girls upstairs, the ones who held my whole heart. I’d go anywhere they wanted to go.

Shaking my head, knowing a long talk with Victoria was coming, I stepped closer to my cabin, but as I reached the bottom of the steps, the hair on the back of my neck started to rise. The door was mostly closed, just a sliver of the wooden strip showing it wasn't wholly latched. I gave one more glance over my shoulder, making sure Victoria wasn’t anywhere near before I climbed up the steps and pushed it open.

There was no sound, only darkness that washed over the room. The only light was the glow through the patio doors, the moonlight reflecting off the lake. There was no sign of anyone else, but I could sense it—someone had been in here.

It was the same feeling that haunted my nightmares, the knowing feeling that someone unwanted had invaded my private space. As I walked through the kitchen, nothing looked amiss, but there was a lingering odor in the air, like the smell of sulfur or smoke.

As I stepped into my bedroom, I could feel the air shift, my entire body telling me to turn around and walk back out the door. But I couldn’t. I had to see what was waiting with my own two eyes.

I flicked on the light, stifling a sharp curse as my bed came into view.

My sheets and my pillows had all been doused in some kind of chemical, leaving nasty stains and burns on the fabric. I had to cover my mouth with my hand, the smellcausing my stomach to flip. The sensation only grew as I spotted a lump in the middle of the bed. My heart sank at the sight, terrified of what was waiting for me under the thick blanket.

Run. Leave, my intuition called out, desperate to get out of this room and return to earlier in the day, when everything seemed to be going well. But I couldn’t. I needed to know what happened, what this stalker had done to invade my home.

With shaky, uneasy steps, I returned to the kitchen and grabbed a metal spatula. The room ebbed in and out of focus as I walked over to the bed, and pulled back the comforter. Before I could even get a proper look, a powerful odor crashed into me, causing me to turn and empty the contents of my stomach all over the carpet.

When it was thoroughly empty, I forced my back to straighten, trying to ignore the smell of rotting flesh filling my nostrils. Turning toward the bed, I was met with the dead eyes of a large fish carcass lying in the middle. From the look of its skin and innards, it had been doused in the same strange chemical as the rest of my belongings, or it had been the source. Either way, my bed was ruined, and that wasn’t the worst part. Sticking out of the fish’s flesh was a large carving knife, similar to the one that stuck out of my walls in New York.

My vision started to darken as I stared at it, taken right back to that night so many months ago. It was as if no time had passed, and I was stuck in the same cycle of terror, waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows and take me out for good.

As I turned to walk toward the balcony for some much-needed air, I finally faced the opposite wall, and my blood ran cold. The wall that had once housed my television wascovered withhundredsof pictures of Tori and me. From our first interaction to our more intimate moments, our entire relationship was spelled out in an angry rhythm. My stomach lurched again as I read the words carved into the paint just above the photos.

I warned you—you are MINE.

FORTY

“Did you see anyone suspicious while you were attending the Festival?”

The police officer sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table, studying me as he asked dozens of questions. But as much as I tried to pay attention, I could barely hear what he said. My mind was too chaotic, too busy trying to figure out when things had gone so wrong.

If you had asked me an hour ago if I would be sitting in the remnants of Adam’s ruined cabin answering questions from the police, I would have thought you had lost your mind.

Yet, here I was, still trying to reconcile the image in front of me with the events of the day. I could barely even look behind me, too traumatized by the sight of Adam’s bed covered in some harsh substance. Even with the windows and doors all open, the smell remained, making my stomach twist and turn. How had the place where I had experienced so much pleasure and joy been warped into a scene straight out of my nightmares?

“I already told you!” Adam’s voice rang out from thebalcony. “I don’t fucking know! Do your damn job and figure it out!”

I flinched at his tone, hating the desperation covering every word. Even from two rooms away, I could feel his anger, feel how vulnerable and violated he felt. When I first arrived, I knew something was wrong, finding Adam almost despondent on the front porch with his cell phone still in hand. I tried to go inside and see for myself, but he held me back, not letting me take a step inside the cabin until the cops arrived.

But even after seeing him so distraught, nothing could have prepared me for the sight inside. The words carved into the wall cut a hole deep in my chest, making it hard even to breathe.

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