Page 25 of Blindsided

I don’t want to be constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if he’s watching me at that moment.

Despair like I haven’t felt in a long time washes over me, and I close my eyes against the need to cry.

I can’t keep doing this. I need time away from everything to get my bearings back. But I know Veronica would never allow me to take a step back. She’d remind me how important it is to stay relevant. If I don’t work, people will forget who I am, and my jobs will dry up. There are hundreds of women who can easily take my place, so it’s either work or lose my hard-earned career.

“Talia, you’re up!” David, the photographer, shouts.

An assistant helps me with my coat, and I grit my teeth against the cool wind blowing. The cropped tank I have on is for the summer season, and I’m lucky they let me wear high-waisted, flared jeans with this. I think my skin would be blue right now if I were in shorts.

I go through the motions, pretending I’m happily frolicking through the park on a warm summer day. Mostly, I’m thinking about Matthew and our conversation this morning about how he started reading his book out loud to me, even though he knew I was asleep. I don’t have to fake the happiness that blooms in my chest. The idea that he went out of his way to comfort me is hard to fathom.

When the shoot is finished, I get changed and gather my things to leave. I walk across the set when one of the assistants yells my name.

“Someone dropped this package off for you.” The girl hands me the box and walks away before I can ask her any questions.

I pop the tape without much effort and open the flaps. The blood drains from my face when I find a trashed Barbie doll inside. Her brown hair looks like it’s been burned off, her clothes are torn to shreds, and her body has been mutilated.

I drop the box, my hands shaking too hard to hold on to it.

“Talia? Are you okay?” Someone’s voice is trying to get through the fog that’s taken over my brain.

A hand on my arm makes me jump, and I spin around in terror until I see David standing in front of me. “What happened?” he asks.

“I…” I swallow. “I need to call the police. Someone sent me a mutilated doll.”

“Jesus,” David swears. He goes to pick up the box, but I have the presence of mind to stop him.

“Don’t touch it. The police will need to examine it for evidence.”

“Right.” David pulls out his phone to call the police, telling them what happened. I ask him to let them know it’s in connection with my stalker case, and David’s eyes bug out.

I’m shuffled to a chair to wait for the police, and time seems to slow to a crawl. One thing keeps turning over and over in my head.

I need Matthew.

But that’s ridiculous. I can’t just leave everything here and go see him. And the idea of him coming to New York is even more preposterous.

I still can’t shake the image of him holding me close to his chest after my nightmare. It felt so good to be in his arms. Safe.

Instead of calling Matthew, I manage to write a text to Desmond. Of course, he calls me immediately.

“How the fuck did he know where you were, Talia?” Des growls.

“I don’t know, Des. It’s not like I’ve been texting him my whereabouts.” My voice is strained, barely rising above a whisper.

He sighs, the air crackling through the phone. “I’m sorry, Tills. I’m just so tired of this freak being able to get to you. He could’ve hurt you. That doll tells me he wants to.”

I shiver at his implication. “What do I do?”

“You’re going to stay with Matthew.” Desmond’s tone is unrelenting, telling me not to argue with him, but there’s no way I can do that.

“Des, I can’t. I have commitments I have to uphold. People are relying on me.”

“No, they aren’t. You are incredible at your job, Tilly, and you know how proud I am of you, but there are plenty of people who can fill in for you. You aren’t safe in the city anymore, and if that means I have to throw my weight at your agent to get her to clear your schedule, then I will.”

I close my eyes against the burn of tears. There’s nothing I want more than to escape from the stress of everything that’s happening in my life. “I’ll stay at Mom and Dad’s. I can’t expect Matthew to be okay with me staying with him indefinitely.”

Desmond scoffs. “Let me handle him. He owes me a few favors, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the space.”

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