Me: Ha! As if she would even give me the time of day, after how I ended things. Besides, nothing has changed. We still never did figure out whose sending those fucking letters. It’s been a minute since I’ve received one but I can’t go back to her and take that risk. I just can’t.
Finn: I’m telling you, just talk to her.
I don’t bother to respond. Tossing my phone in its spot, I let out a heavy breath, trying to release the frustration built up in me before pulling away from the curb to head home.
Chapter Eight
Theo
Seven Years Earlier
-April-
. . . An eye for an eye. You took what belongs to me and now it’s time to pay the piper. If you want your little birdie to live, you will cut all ties with her. Otherwise, the truth has a way of coming out, and I promise you won’t like the results. But I’m sure you rotting in prison for the murder of your father and her ex-boyfriend will have its own way of destroying your relationship before I have the pleasure of taking her from you anyway. Give me what I’m owed. Lose the girl, and she lives...just not with you. Or, you leave me no choice but to take what is rightfully mine by force; I will make sure you rot in prison while she dies, alone, facing the lies that you told and you won’t even get to saygoodbye. . .
Istare at the note with disbelief. Someone knows. They fucking know. And they are threatening to take away my little sparrow. Panic rises in my chest, and I can feel my breaths becoming shallow and rapid. Oh God. I’m having a panic attack. This is a panic attack, right? Oh God! Poor Danica. If this is the crap she deals with, I can’t even imagine having to fight off this feeling on a regular basis. It puts things into perspective and appreciation for my girl grows even more.
What am I going to do? Shit! Okay, first, I need to calm the fuck down.Dropping the note in my lap, I go back to contemplating the photos that were also in the envelope. Image after image of Danica going about her daily life. Whoever took the photos clearly knows her routine, but that makes no sense, because she hasn’t had a set routine since all of this shit started with Brad. As I study the photos more closely, a cold dread fills my veins. Some of these photos were frombefore. Like before Danica and I even met.
I pull out my phone, hitting my speed dial, and the most beautiful sound I have ever heard fills my ears as relief washes over me.
“Hey there, Hoodie Guy. Wasn’t expecting you to call me so soon. Are you done at the rink already?” Danica’s voice is light and teasing, her happiness clear as day over the line.
“Hey baby, yeah, I was just finishing up here. Just wanted to call and tell you how beautiful you are and how much I love you.”
“Aww. You’re so sweet.” I can hear the curiosity in her tone. I am not one to randomly call just for ‘I love yous.’ “I love you too. Will I get to see you tonight?”
“Uh, actually, I have plans with the guys. You know, end of the season celebration and all that. Nothing crazy, no parties or anything. But we may head into town and grab a few drinks.”
There is a pause on the line, and I know I’ve caught her off guard.
“Everything okay?”
A sound comes out of my mouth, and I could swear it almost sounds like nervous laughter. What the actual fuck? I don’tdonervous laughter. Quickly clearing my throat, I try again.
“Yeah, of course. Everything’s good. Why wouldn’t it be? Just want to hang out with the guys, is all.”
Another pause.
“O-okay.” The word is drawn out, and I am sure she is doubtful of my response. “Well, have fun with the guys. Call me when you get home?”
My reply is eager, and I fight back a sigh of relief. “Yeah, il mio passerotto. I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Okay, well. . . I’ll talk to you later then.”
“Yep. Later.” God, what is wrong with me? “I love you.” I can’t help but reiterate, needing her to hear it one more time.
“I love you too, Theo.”
With that, I quickly hang up before I can make a bigger ass of myself. Switching over to my message app, I shoot out a quick text to the guys.
Me: 911. Meet me at the bar ASAP!
I throw down the envelope on the middle of the table, causing pictures to spill out from the opening onto the sticky table littered with half-empty beer bottles. With a heavy sigh, I slide into the booth next to Seb, sitting across from Caleb and Finn. Brows furrowed, Finn frowns as he glances from me, down to the table, and back again. Tapping his fingers against the sticky surface thirteen times, he then reaches over to spread the images across the tabletop.
“What the fuck is this?” The question comes from Caleb. Confusion mars his face as he registers that picture after picture is filled with surveillance images of his younger sister. “Is this some kind of joke?”
With a shaky hand, my fingers nervously run through my already messed up hair, and I sigh in frustration.