Page 118 of Give Me Love

I’d never been four-wheeler riding before, so this was all new to me, but it was one of the best days I can recall. We spent several summer weekends out at her parents’ house and made memories I’ll never forget.

I not only gained a best friend I think of as a sister, but I gained a family, and that is something I’ve never had.

Bryce and I are doing great.

Claire is doing really well.

Austin’s business is good.

Karen is happy with her family.

I’m happy…

And. That. Terrifies. Me.

“Everything is too perfect,” I murmur, looking out at the park, watching as the woman stops the swing and lifts her child from the seat.

“Too perfect,” I say lowly. I shiver and stand up, and as I turn, someone catches my peripheral. Narrowing my eyes, I look out into the park out by the trees, swearing I saw a man standing there. I shake my head and put my hands into my pockets, deciding I was just seeing things.

_____________

I wake Saturday morning, feeling the several glasses of wine Claire and I had last night at the restaurant we went to with Austin. The sound of booming thunder rattles the windowpane, and through my curtains I can see a heavy rain falling from the metal-colored sky. I rub my face and roll over, staring up at the ceiling. The fan above me spins, and I can’t shake this eerie sensation in my gut.

Lightning flashes, and my air conditioner and box fan go off, leaving me with only the sound of rain falling.

I turn my head, and something catches my eye on the floor. I focus on it.

“What the hell?” Tossing the covers off, I walk over, grabbing the expensive looking knife by its handle. My heart kicks up, and my eyes wander over the carvings on the blade. This is no pocketknife. This is one you wear on your side, like someSons of Anarchyshit.

Another roll of thunder makes me jump, and I look at my window as needles prick my spine.

Someone’s been in here.

“Kat.” I hear and turn to look toward my door. Claire pushes it open, looking just as concerned as I feel, holding something in her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asks with narrowed eyes that leave me and look to the window.

I reach over and push it down, shutting out the falling rain and leaving us in silence.

“What’s in your hand?” She walks over in pajama shorts and bare feet as we both look. I swallow the sick feeling in my stomach.

“Where did that come from?” she asks.

“On my floor,” I say, looking up at her.

Her hand goes to her hair, and her eyes scan the floor as fear takes over confusion.

“He’s been here, Kat. I know it.” She opens her hand. My eyes widen, and chills run over my arms as the hand that holds her underwear starts to shake. “These were on the couch this morning.”

“Call the police,” I say to her.

_____________

With cut-off shorts and a long-sleeved soft gray shirt on, I slide my feet into my Vans and throw my hair up into a ponytail, walking into the living room as the cops exit our apartment with the items we found.

Claire sits at the small kitchen table, knee bouncing and fingernail chewing. I go to the coffee pot, grateful the power came back on while we were talking to the officer, and pour myself a cup before walking out of the kitchen and joining her.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say, taking a sip. ‘They’ll discover his fingerprints, and they’ll put a warrant out for his arrest.”

---