Chapter 18 Max
EIGHTEEN
MAX
Someone has been in my house.
I can tell the second I walk through the front door something is wrong.
I freeze and scan the living room, trying to pinpoint what’s out of place and—there.
The rug that leads to the kitchen is uneven. Up ahead, the bedroom door I shut before I left for school is halfway open.
What the fuck?
“Hello?” I reach for the small pepper spray attached to my keychain. Closing the front door behind me, I grab a book sitting on the foyer table. I refuse to be the idiot in the horror movies who doesn’t protect herself, but there’s no answer as I tiptoe down the hallway. “Sky?”
The kitchen is empty, but there’s a glass of water next to the sink and a vase of gorgeous sunflowers on the table. I walk toward them, checking for a note but not finding one.
Nothing is missing or out of place in here. The knives are all in their wooden block, and the pots and pans are where they belong. The back door is locked. There’s no blood, no mess that shows any sign of forced entry, and I blow out an exhausted breath.
It’s been a long week at school. Fatigue is setting in, and everything could be explained if I took a second to think clearly. Skyler probably went in my room to borrow something and didn’t close the door behind her.
No big deal.
The rug is messed up because she was in a hurry to get to work, and I set the book on the counter, reassured.
All is well, I tell myself as I open the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
Except…
The shelves are lined with food. There’s chicken and vegetables and a whole watermelon. Ears of corn and a fresh jar of jam. There are even apples and carrots, and I’m fucking baffled.
Skyler knows I hate carrots. I almost choked on one in high school, and I whip my phone out to fire off a text to her.
Me
Hey. Weird question. Did you buy a ton of groceries? If so, let me know how much I owe you!
The message that comes through seconds later makes my heart sink to my toes.
Skyler
I haven’t been home since early this morning. Wasn’t me. Did your mom stop by? Sounds like something she would do!
It does sound like something she would do, but she’s out of town on a girl’s trip with her college roommate. It’s not possible she swung by while I was at work when she’s in San Diego, which means someone else has been here. Dread settles in my stomach, and I take a deep breath.
Me
I didn’t even think to ask her, but you’re right. She totally would do that. When you get home, there’s tons to eat.
I swipe out of my conversation with Skyler and dial 911.
Calling the police is the smart thing to do.
They could come and dust for fingerprints or review security footage from my neighbor’s doorbell cameras.
It would establish a paper trail. The complaint I’m filing now would be documented in case this turns into a problem bigger than odd grocery shopping.
A noise from down the hall steals my attention.
I hold my pepper spray in front of me, heading for my room. It’s empty in here too, but there, in the center of my bed, is all my laundry that’s been piling up.
Folded.
Neatly stacked.
Arranged by category.
And a small sticky note attached to one of my socks.
I rush forward and rip it away from the fabric, gaping at the small heart doodled on the paper.
This is all too bizarre. Deeply unsettling, and I hate that I’m here by myself.
Hunter will know what to do, my mind screams. I fumble with my phone, begging the universe to let him pick up. When the call connects after two rings, I almost collapse with relief.
“Max,” he answers. “Hi, angel. This is a nice surprise.”
“Hi.” I put a hand on my chest, telling myself to calm down. My heart is racing. My lungs feel like they are going to explode at any second. I check to make sure my window is locked, end everything is securely bolted. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you, I have all the minutes in the world. What’s up?”
“I just got home from work and found my fridge, which was empty when I left the house this morning, full of food. Skyler didn’t stock it.
I didn’t stock it. Who the hell did?” I bend down and check under my bed, grateful when all I find is a dusty sock and not an intruder.
“My laundry is also folded.” I swallow and rub my forehead.
“I-I know how this sounds, but I think someone has been in my house.”
“Is anything stolen? Are you in danger?”
“I’m fine. Totally fine. And I haven’t done a deep dive to see what might’ve been taken, but it looks like they only—” I sputter out a laugh. “Whoever was here, it’s clear they wanted to help me. Food? Laundry? Flowers? It’s really fucking weird.”
“Is it possible Skyler did your laundry for you?” Hunter asks, and I pace around my room. “She probably had to wash clothes for work. Your stuff might’ve gotten thrown in too.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I guess that could be right. She’s done that in the past.”
“I do Leo’s laundry when I’m feeling nice, and his sweaty work socks are revolting.” There’s a muffled string of curses on the other end of the line, and I giggle when I hear Leo arguing. “I’m sure your shirts are much more pleasant.”
“That explains the clothes, but what about the fridge?”
“You said Skyler and Dustin are hanging out, right? Has he been to your place? He might’ve been the one to do it. Men are weak, remember? I bet Skyler mentioned she was hungry, and he decided to buy one of everything at the grocery store to feed her.”
“He was here the other day. Maybe he stopped by this morning.”
“Or last night when you were at my place. See? A totally logical explanation.”
“Thank you for listening. For a second there, it felt like I was losing my mind.”
“I’m happy to help,” he says.
“Now I can actually relax instead of calling the police.” I smile and sit on the edge of my bed. “Is Fright Nights going to be busy tonight?”
“Yup. The event is at capacity. We’ll have a three hour wait for our house, which means I won’t get out of here until close to four in the morning.” Hunter sighs. “Miss you, gorgeous. Wish I was with you instead.”
“Me too.” I lean back on my pillows and frown. “What the hell?”
“What?” There’s urgency in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just—my bed.” I bounce up and down.
The mattress is more cushioned than I remember it being.
It sinks under my weight, almost like it’s molding itself to my body.
“Okay. I’m officially losing it. This doesn’t feel like my bed.
Like, I know it’s my bed. It’s in my room. But it’s way too comfortable.”
“You’ve had a long week, angel.”
“It’s Wednesday, Hunter.”
“Exactly. You’re tired. You’ve had a lot going on, so your mattress probably feels nicer than usual. Why don’t you take a bath and relax the rest of the night? Better yet, I’ll order you a pizza. No cooking required.”
“Does Dominos come with wine?” I reach for the sticky note again, looking for a clue about who it might be from. “Because I could use a whole bottle.”
“Probably not, but I’ll see what strings I can pull. Red or white, angel?”
“White. God. I don’t know who the hell could’ve done all of this. Unless…” I trail off and giggle. “Did you break into my house, Hunter?”
“Sorry, good lookin’. I’ve been with Leo all day. You should hear the sounds he makes when he’s at the gym.”
I bite my lip, almost wishing it had been Hunter who did all of this. It would help me sleep better tonight knowing he was trying to be a nice guy, but there’s no way I’m going to be settled until Skyler gets home. Being alone is the last thing I want.
“What would you suggest as a good tool for self-defense?” I ask. “I don’t want a gun. The loud noise would scare the shit out of me.”
“How about an ax? Or a knife.”
“An ax sounds like a good idea. I’m sorry to bother you before work with all of this. I might need a vacation.”
“You’re never a bother, Max. And if you want to take a vacation, the second Fright Nights ends, I’ll whisk you away.”
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere you want.”
I smile. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“You’ll let me know if you notice anything else that makes you uncomfortable?”
“I will. Do I get to see you in hero mode?”
“You don’t want to see me in hero mode. I’d burn the city down for you.”
A blush creeps up my cheeks. “Have fun at work, Hunter.”
“I’ll be thinking of you the entire time.”
We hang up, and I pull up a search for the best axes to use for self-defense. The options are overwhelming, and I fire off a text to Hunter asking him to pick one for me. He answers immediately with a tracking number, telling me a package will be here the day after tomorrow.
Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings. I carry my pepper spray with me as I check the peephole, laughing when I see it’s a pizza delivery with a bottle of chardonnay.
When I settle into my bathtub with two slices of pepperoni on a plate and a generous pour of wine, I decide I need to relax more.
After a thorough search of my house that shows no one is hiding in a closet waiting to attack me, I climb into bed and sleep soundly through the night, convinced I’m overreacting.