Page 98 of Stone Promises

As I wait for the elevator in Kyle’s building, a lady from the front desk walks over to me with a package. “You’re Kyle Stone’s houseguest, yes?”

“That’s right,” I tell her.

“Would you be so kind as to take this up? It’s marked perishable and I’d hate for it to go bad.”

“Of course.” I take the package from her noticing it’s been addressed to: The Stone Residence.

I text Kyle along the way.

Me: You got a package marked perishable. Do I need to just put it in the refrigerator, or is there anything else you need me to do?

He texts me back a few minutes later.

Kyle: I didn’t order anything, but my mom is always sending me stuff. Go ahead and open it and do what you need to with it.

I get a knife and work my way through the heavy packing tape that surrounds all the edges of the package. Geesh, she must have used a whole roll of tape. As I slice through one side, a sickening smell escapes the box and I frown thinking whatever’s inside has long since spoiled. But when I open the top, I cringe at what I see.

There’s dried blood everywhere, and I’m not sure what kind of rodent is inside, but it might be a rat. Sadly, though, that’s not the most disturbing part. It’s the torn-up pictures of me scattered around the deceased creature that makes me gasp.

I check the label of the box and see it was mailed locally. Then I close it up tightly and try to decide what to do.

A half hour later, Ethan is examining the contents. After all, he’s a private investigator, so who better to call? “Jesus, there are some sickos in this world,” he says, using a pen to rifle through the package. “What did Chad say about this? Does he have any known stalkers?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t told him yet,” I admit.

He raises his eyebrows, giving me a stern look.

“I will,” I say. “But he has a lot going on this week. They have several days of re-shoots at the L.A. set. He needs his focus to be on that, not this. If he knew about this, I don’t know what he’d do.”

“He’d lose his shit, Mallory. That’s what.”

“Can I count on you to keep this quiet until he gets here on Friday?” I ask.

He looks down at the box and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t like it. But I get why you don’t want to tell him.” He uses latex gloves to close the box and put it in a large plastic bag. “We’ll still have to get the police involved. Chad told me you had a similar delivery at the house last week. They could be related. And he’d have my head on a fucking stick if I didn’t make sure you were safe this week, so I won’t tell him—on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t leave this apartment without someone with you. Me, Kyle, Julian, your dad. And if we’re not available, I’ll get someone from my agency to escort you.”

I shake my head. “I start work tomorrow, Ethan. I can’t miss the first week.”

“What time do you need to leave in the mornings?” he asks.

“Seven.”

“I’ll be here at six forty-five,” he says. “I like my coffee black. And if one of us can’t be there to get you home safely after, I’ll send someone from the office. You’ve met Levi, right?”

I nod. “Thank you, Ethan.”

I’m relieved he’s willing to keep a lid on this even though it means lying to his brother. I hate lying to Chad. It will mean no video chats with him this week. He’d be able to tell just by looking at me that I’m not telling him something.

Instead of dwelling on negative things for the rest of the day, I decide to use my pent-up energy for a better purpose. I start planning a party. A welcome home party, so to speak. I call Kendra to ask her if she can get me some phone numbers. Then I get started on the guest list. I’m amazed at how many people are willing to fly across the country just for a party.

Against my better judgment, I even invite his manager. I think it would be good for Paul to see that Chad and I are moving forward with our relationship. He’s an integral part of Chad’s career which means he’ll be in his life for a long time. I’m determined to win the guy over come hell or high water.

I send an email to Skylar to see if Mitchell’s can cater on short notice. I call the manager of our new building to see if he’ll allow me to have new bedroom furniture delivered on Thursday, the day before we move in. Then I text Mel and ask if she’s up for a shopping trip to West End this week. Fully chaperoned by Julian, of course. I laugh to myself thinking of how he’ll love that—furniture shopping with the girls.

By the time I go to bed, I’ve put the wheels in motion for the surprise party, excited to be doing something nice forhimfor a change. And I fall asleep wondering—desecrated rodents notwithstanding—how my life could possibly get any better.

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