Page 64 of My Million Dollar Secret

“What did I tell you about seeing him?”

Robert's voice is icy cold, and that chill I felt earlier only intensifies. If it gets any worse, I'm going to have to check myself for frostbite.

“Robert, you can't keep calling me. I've talked to –”

“Shut up and listen to me, bitch,” he growls. “I thought I was clear the last time we talked. You're mine. You're always going to be mine. You and I are meant to be –”

“No, we're not,” I hiss, cutting him off. “And if you don't stop calling and stalking me, I'm going to have your ass thrown in jail.”

My heart is hammering in my chest and my hand is trembling so hard, I'm half-afraid I'm going to drop the phone. But I'm doing my best to put up a strong, brave front. I can't let myself show weakness to this pathetic excuse for man. I won't.

“The cops can't touch me, and you know it, Emily,” he snarls. “They won’t help you until it's too late. It's no use pretending otherwise, because you know it's true.”

“I'm hanging up now, Robert.”

“You're mine, Emily,” he continues as if I hadn't even spoken. “And I will kill anybody who tries to get between us. Do you hear me? I will fucking kill them. Then I'll kill you, followed by myself, so we can be together forever.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, doing anything to keep from letting the tears welling in my eyes from falling. The thing that scares me the most is that I believe him. I really believe he'd kill Aaron – and then kill me and himself. I believe that somewhere in his twisted brain, he thinks we'd be together forever if he did that.

Listening to Robert is making my stomach churn. I taste the bile in the back of my throat as I struggle to keep from retching.

“Am I understood, Emily?”

I summon up every last ounce of strength inside of me and then speak in the clearest tone I can manage. “Fuck you, Robert.”

His laugh is more frightening than his words. That laughter sounds like a man on the verge of madness – a man rapidly spiraling out of control.

“By the way, Emily,” he says. “Those pears are overripe. You'd be better off going with the apples.”

He disconnects the call, but his words send a white-hot bolt of fear streaking through me. I look down at the display of pears in front of me and then turn around quickly. He's been watching me. Oh God, he's in the store watching me. I don't see him, but he has to be there. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have known where I was.

Pushing the cart toward the checkout aisles, I try to look everywhere at once and keep my fear in check. If he is watching, I can't let him see just how badly he's rattled me, even though I want nothing more than to run screaming out of there. I check out as quickly as possible and then ask the bagboy to accompany me out to my car to help.

After getting all of my things loaded up, I practically peel out of the parking lot and race home as fast as I can. I watch all of the cars behind me, taking a circuitous route back to my condo to make sure I'm not being followed – and then feel profoundly stupid. I can take all of the twists and turns getting home that I want, but Robert knows where I live. All he needs to do is drive to the condo and wait outside.

I pull into the underground garage and watch closely, looking all around as the large iron gates close behind me. Seeing nothing, I drive on and pull into my stall, then quickly get out of my car. I look all around, making sure nobody is lurking anywhere, but don't see anybody. Doesn't mean he's not out there, but admittedly, it would be hard for him to get into the garage.

“Good evening Ms. Hall.”

I scream and spin around, raising my can of mace at the voice behind me. But it’s just Ralph, one of the community's security guards. His face blanches and he flinches wildly when he sees what's in my hand. Thankfully, I manage to keep from spraying him in the face – but just barely. We both stand there a moment, staring at each other wide-eyed, both of us scared – though obviously for different reasons.

“I – I'm sorry Ralph,” I croak as I try to catch my breath.

“No, it's my fault. I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that,” he nods. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Not your fault,” I groan as I lean against the car. “Just wound a little tight tonight.”

His laugh is nervous. “Happens to the best of us,” he says. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

I look around the garage, that ominous feeling creeping over me once more, though I think it's simply paranoia this time. There's a lot of ground to cover between my car and the elevators. Plenty of room for Robert to jump out at me if he's lying in wait. I'd like to say it's not possible, but he somehow managed to get into my building once before, so who the hell knows?

“Actually, yeah,” I say. “If you don't mind helping me with my groceries?”

“My pleasure, Ms. Hall.”

Fifteen minutes later, I'm locked inside my condo, all of my bags on the counter. I quickly pour myself a glass of wine to settle my nerves and take a long swallow. I drain the rest of the glass and then pour myself another as I feel the wine start to work its magic on me. I'm starting to feel a little calmer and more in control of myself.

I look at my phone and think about calling Detective Lundgren to demand he pick Robert up and put him in jail. But I already know what he's going to say – he can't do a goddamn thing since I have no physical proof Robert did anything. And until I can provide that proof, Robert will be free to walk the streets and continue terrorizing me.

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