Page 31 of Untamed

“Probably just a bird,” I say, even though the excuse sounds lame as fuck even to my own ears. That’s no fucking bird, but if this man is really who he says he is, poor Reggie doesn’t stand a chance. I can’t take that risk.

My heart is hammering, and I feel a little shaky. I wish I could be reasonable about this, but a part of me… the dangerous side of me, the part of me that’s drawn to antiheroes… wonders.

Surely, my imagination has gotten the better of me.

Hasn’t it?

“Could be. Sounded heavier than that. Want me to check it out?”

I shake my head. “No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing.” My grip tightens on the box. He nods and walks off, waving his fingers at me, leaving me alone with the weight of unease on my chest and the box in my hand.

Now that he’s gone, I open the box again, my mind whirring. I stare. This… it can’t be.

One of the most gorgeous, still-functioning vintage cameras on the market, theexactone I’ve been eying for months. Way out of my price range.

I drop the box as if it’s on fire when the lights go out.

My heart beats faster.

It’s just the lights.

Just lights.

It happens all the time. We don’t have a generator here, and wind speeds get out of control sometimes.

I swing my flashlight beam from my phone around the apartment. A smart, logical person would call the cops, but the last time I did that, I lived to regret it.

It’s why I work out so hard. It’s why I carry pepper spray in my bag and have memorized every self-defense move on the planet.

I don’t need someone to come and rescue me. I can do that for my own damn self.

I look at my phone, but there’s no new message from my stalker poser—whateverhe is—so I toss it on the coffee table and stare at the stairs to the roof.

There’s no fuckingwayI’m going up there. Nope. Not gonna do it. Either this is all coincidence, or something’s gone terribly wrong. In either case, I’ll call a lawyer or whatever, but I need to have an actual story to tell them.

An online stranger flirted with me?

Someone I don’t know sent me a gift, when I get gifts daily from various sources, often not identifying the sender?

My security guy heard someone on the roof earlier?

Every fear is legitimate but sounds stupid. I need more to go on; I really do.

But isn’t this the type of logic that talks people out of making logical, reasonable decisions?

I send my online stalker a message.

What did you do?

No response.

I think about calling Reggie again, but I feel like a wuss. I can’t do that. I roll my eyes to myself and look back at my phone.

Still no response.

I will him to answer as my anger rises. How dare he play around with me like this?

Is he?

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