Chapter 24
Sumner
My life seemed to have fallen into old patterns again in the past three weeks.
Ones that came before my time with Joey.
I could finally focus on my work again, spend time with Sly with less worries, and even go out by myself without being scared of my surroundings.
Today, that outing was grocery shopping.
The bags dug into my fingers by the time I reached my building.
It had been a long afternoon, and all I wanted was to drop everything, take a shower, and then call Sly to come over so we could make dinner together.
I climbed the stairs and reached the third floor, already trying to get the key ready to open the door, when I saw something on my doormat. I squinted at it, unsure what it was at first. It looked like a shirt, but it definitely wasn’t mine.
Setting the bags down, I bent down to pick it up, ready to take it inside and worry about it another day because I desperately needed to see Sly. God, I missed him. Even if I wouldn’t have admitted to it a few weeks ago, I was falling in—
“Ohmygod!”
The air went out of my lungs as dark red chunks of something stained my hand and fell out of the rolled up shirt.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t move. My hands started to shake, and the sound in my ears went sharp, like static. I couldn’t breathe right. My heart was pounding too fast, my throat closing up until all I could hear was my pulse.
My thoughts immediately went to Joey. This was him. It had to be.
Who else would leave a bloody shirt in front of my apartment?
He’s back.
He remembers me.
He remembers…
I stumbled back against the wall, tripping over the bags. The cans of Pepsi rolled across the floor, and one made it down the stairs. I pressed my hand against my chest and tried to steady my breathing, but it didn’t work. I knew what was happening, but this panic attack came fast. Too fast.
My mind went to the darkest places before I could stop it.
I hadn’t seen him in weeks. There had been silence on his side, and I thought that maybe it would stay like that.
But the sight of that shirt, the blood, the smell…
it threw me straight back. I could almost hear his voice again, echoing rough and loud in my head.
He’s coming for me.
I’m not safe anymore, and not even Sly can help me now.
He’s already found me.
I managed to pull out my phone with trembling fingers and pressed Sly’s name as I begged for him to pick up.
“Please please please…”
He picked up on the second ring. “Sumner?”
I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I gasped once, unable to take my eyes off the shirt on the floor, and finally managed, “There’s blood…s-someone left—”
“Hey, hey, slow down.” His voice came through steady. He was trying not to panic, too. “Where are you?”
“At my door,” I whispered. “There’s a shirt—there’s blood on it.”
“I’m on my way,” he said immediately. “Can you go inside, baby? Can you do that for me?”
I shook my head as if he could see it. “I c-can’t go in,” I said, my eyes glued on the shirt. My chest was tight. “It’s right there, it’s blocking the door.”
“Okay. Then stay where you are. Look at something other than that shirt. Or close your eyes and just listen to my voice. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. You know how. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
His voice pulled me back a little. I focused on the railing and started counting the chipped paint marks all over it. I followed his instructions, listening to him talk without ever stopping, and thanks to him, the shaking dulled enough that I felt like being in control of my body again.
He stayed on the phone as he walked up the stairs and came into view. He came straight to me and crouched down, eyes scanning my face before glancing at the shirt.
“Are you hurt?” He cupped my face and brushed my cheeks with his thumbs.
I shook my head.
“Okay.” He studied the shirt again. His jaw flexed, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. His eyes came back to me, and he gave me an encouraging smile. “You did the right thing calling me. Let’s get you inside.”
I nodded, but as he helped me up, I couldn’t help but looking at the shirt on the floor. I froze again. “What is it? Blood?”
“Looks like it.” He wasn’t sugarcoating it, and he didn’t have to. I didn’t want him to make everything less than it really was just for my sake. And he wouldn’t lie to me anyway.
When I still didn’t move, he positioned himself in front of me and held my face with both hands again. “Everything’s going to be okay, Sumner. I promise you that.” And he meant every word.
“Okay.”
He waited until I was steady enough to walk, then helped me inside, keeping close but not crowding me. Once I was sitting on the couch, he pulled out his phone.
“I’m going to check if Joey’s home,” he said.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to leave, but I knew I couldn’t stop him from going.
And if he went to check, we’d be more in the clear about Joey and his condition.
We hadn’t heard from him since that evening.
Not that we wanted to. But it was better to check what was up with him than to stay in the dark.
“Please be careful.”
“I won’t get too close.” He grabbed the blanket off the armrest and draped it over me, then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I won’t be long.”
Sly
I’d seen fear before, plenty of it. But the fear in Sumner’s eyes ran deeper than anything I’d seen.
Leaving her felt wrong, but I needed to check on Joey. I locked her door so she would feel safe, I picked up the bloodied shirt from the floor and walked out to where I had parked April.
I had left my apartment so fast that I forgot to grab my helmet, but I didn’t care about my safety when hers was more important.
On the sidewalk I stood for a moment with the rolled up shirt in my hand.
It didn’t look like human blood to me, and because I couldn’t be sure if Joey had been the one who left it on her door, I decided not to take it with me.
I tossed it in the nearest trash can and climbed onto April. Then I rode to Joey’s place.
I stopped a few houses down, but close enough to look through his windows. The lights were on downstairs, and I waited patiently for him to come into view. When he finally appeared about ten minutes later, I observed him closely, trying to make out his facial expression.
Squinting did nothing for my sight, and I decided I didn’t only need to try those colorblind glasses, but also a real pair of prescription ones, since I was getting older and my twenty-eight year old eyes were only worsening with all the gaming I did.
Joey moved around the kitchen with little to no motivation. He didn’t look happy about having to prepare his own food. The fucker didn’t have anyone to cook for him anymore.
Even though I didn’t want to admit it, he looked healthier than the last time I had seen him, and to be fair that last time had been on the floor with blood pouring from his head.
There was no visible wound now, no stitches and no bandage, so he had recovered well enough on the surface. As for his memory, I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t tell, and just showing up at his door and asking wasn’t up for question.
I got the answers I needed for now and drove back, not willing to spend more time stalking the asshole instead of being close to Sumner.
Once I got to her building, I parked April on the side and went straight upstairs. I knocked softly before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
“Sly?” she called out.
“Yeah, it’s me, baby.”
She was still on the couch where I’d left her, knees pulled up under the blanket. Her eyes lifted to meet mine. I sat down beside her and slid an arm around her back, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“How are you feeling?” I asked quietly.
She gave a small shrug. “Freaked out.”
I nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry this is happening again.”
“It’s not your fault, Sly.”
“I know,” I said, brushing my thumb across her knuckles. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you this way.” I lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.
“Did you see him?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah. He’s home. Looked fine. Too fine.”
Her eyes widened. “Did he—I mean…”
“I don’t know for sure if it was him who left the shirt,” I said. “But after everything, it wouldn’t surprise me.”
She looked down, twisting the edge of the blanket in her hands. “I know the shirt was at my door, but what if he comes after you? What if he remembers what you did?”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”
She stayed quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the floor. “I hate that he still has this kind of hold on us.”
“Then we don’t let him,” I said. I turned to her again, waiting until she looked at me. “He doesn’t get to take up more space in your head, or mine. And if he tries anything again, he won’t get far.”
She nodded slowly, not looking too convinced, but at least she trusted me. She leaned into my shoulder. I felt her body soften against mine, and her breathing slowed.
“We’ll be okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll make sure of it.”