Page 10 of Live for Me

“Maybe he had a bad night,” I muttered, setting the phone down and resuming my routine.

It wouldn’t be until ten minutes later, after I’d done my skincare and begun blow drying my hair, that the realization hit me. And when it finally did, it was too late.

The heat of the blow dryer was on the side of my face as I hummed a soft tune. Suddenly, goosebumps scattered along the left side of my body, and I felt a chill in the room. Movement caught my eye to the left—in the doorway of the bathroom. I twisted my neck, eye wide as fear took over.

Nothing was there.

I fumbled with the hair dryer, shutting it off and placing it back on the counter. “Dave? Is that you?” I called out, not likingthe silence of my house. I swiped up my phone, clutching it to my chest.

No answer.

The house was too quiet.

I sucked in a gasp.

Dave was supposed to pick up Minnie on his way home. When that dog gets in my house, she immediately comes looking for me. My chest began to heave as I stumbled back, staring at the darkened doorway of the bathroom, cursing myself for not turning on my bedside lamp before hopping in the shower.

My phone dinged in my hand, and then I was trembling as I turned it over, Dave’s text popping up in front of the group photo I’d set as my screen-saver months ago.

Dave: Abbie, I’m not home. Harris and I are still on the other side of town.

I heard a sound from somewhere in the house, and I whimpered, backing up against the wall as a secondary text popped up.

Dave: IS SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE WITH YOU?

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

He was here.

I heard another noise—this time on the inside of my bedroom, the familiar creak of the floor boards that only occurred when I walked around to my side of the bed.

He was by my bed.

My phone began ringing—it was Dave’s ring tone. I was paralyzed with fear, short pants coming from me now. I couldn’t even answer the phone. I couldn’t even run.

There was nothing I could do, because even if I did, he would find me. He always managed to find me when I was out in public. He’d even found my old, shitty apartment, but I’d thought—I’d hoped—-he would never find my house. I’d done all I could to keep my address private, away from my articles, from my job.

I’d gone so far as to get a digital address for my blog and my online gallery.

Another text came from Dave.

Dave: ABBIE?? Answer my call!

I heard my closet door open and close, followed by heavy, slow footsteps leading out of my room and down the hall before they pounded down the stairs. Seconds later, there was a loud bang—my front door slamming shut. A chilled quiet followed, and that’s when I broke.

My knees gave out, and I slid down the door, my body shaking as sobs left me. I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my arms, tears running freely down my cheeks now. Fear hovered over me like a vulture, waiting to feast on the pathetic mess I was.

My stalker was back, and this time, I knew he wouldn’t let me escape.

Chapter Three

Beau

“You sure you’re alight, Pop?” I asked through the phone, walking through the barn with a saddle over my shoulder.

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