Chapter Fourteen
ABBIE
“Castle! Castle!”
Chuckling, I smile as I stuff another pillow around the edge of the couch’s pull-out bed, essentially creating a pen for Chase and Lilah.
Sophie and Carter are in Boston having a date night, so I offered to keep Chase for the night, which Lilah was thrilled with.
After picking them up from the skating rink, we grabbed Happy Meals as a treat and came back to the apartment to chow down on nuggets and fries while we watched episodes of Bluey.
Since Lilah’s toddler bed isn’t big enough for both kids since it was converted from her crib, I’m setting up the fold-out with cushions and pillows all around it to keep them from tumbling out of bed in the middle of the night.
If thinking I’m building them a castle keeps them from trying to escape, then fuck it, I’m building a castle.
“Okay, guys,” I say gently as I finish my little wall around them. “It’s time to go to sleep.”
“Will Mommy and Daddy be here in the morning?” Chase asks. I can tell he’s nervous about staying over, but he’s putting on a brave face, the little champ.
“They will be,” I assure him. “Don’t you worry. When you wake up, we’ll have breakfast and get ready for the day and your mommy and daddy will be here to get you.”
He looks relieved, his eyes lighting up and his mouth curling into a small grin. “Okay, that’s good.”
As if she can sense his distress, Lilah throws her arms around Chase’s neck and hugs him tight.
“No sad!” she insists.
“That’s right, Lilah.” I nod. “Sleep tight, you guys.”
The two lie down and curl up next to each other, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
Lilah pats Chase’s cheek as she cuddles her favorite blankie and watches him for several minutes before her eyelids start to grow heavy.
Soon, they’re both fast asleep, looking so peaceful and sweet, it makes my heart ache
Even thoughI could watch these two all night, I ease my way out of the living room and head toward the kitchen to find myself a snack—fries and nuggets didn’t really do enough for me.
On my way, I do my nightly check of the apartment. Front door locked. Windows locked. I pull the curtain back from the sliding glass door, expecting it to be locked, but I freeze when I find it slightly ajar. Huh? When did that happen?
I think back over the evening and wonder if I opened it and forgot, or…oh! Maybe Chase opened it when I was in the bathroom or something. He’s tall enough for that.
Geez, I haven’t even thought about all the things Lilah will be able to get into when she’s as big as Chase. I need to be more careful.
I make my way down the hall toward Lilah’s room.
I haven’t even been to this part of the apartment since being home— dinner, Bluey , and pajamas out of the laundry basket on the dining room floor made it unnecessary.
If the kids got in here, though, when I wasn’t paying attention, what kind of disaster did they leave behind?
Reaching Lilah’s room, I carefully open the door and step inside. To my immense relief, nothing appears out of place. Her toys are still put away and everything appears peaceful and normal. Good. No mess to clean up. I check that her windows are locked before I make my way to my own bedroom.
As soon as I open the door, however, terror—unlike I’ve ever felt before, freezes me in place.
It’s a disaster.
My bedsheets and pillows have been ripped off and thrown on the floor. The drawers of my dresser are open, and my underwear drawer is completely pulled out and on the floor.
Heart pounding, I turn and run back out to the kitchen, frightened tears in my eyes that I try to fight as I grab a big knife before going back to the room. I need to call the cops, but what if someone is here and attacks the moment they hear me make the call?
Knife raised, I slowly make my way through the carnage toward the closet, which is hanging half open.
I’m terrified that someone is going to jump out and attack me.
When did this happen? I’ve been home for hours and haven’t heard a thing.
God, has someone been in here with me and kids this whole time?
The thought makes me nauseous and I have to fight not to throw up.
Reaching the closet, I cautiously pull it open and freeze. Written in large, jagged red letters are the words, You’ll never replace me. My clothes have been pulled from their hangers and are scattered all over the floor of the closet. Some have even been ripped to shreds.
Jerking away from the closet, I drop the knife and stumble back and fall onto my bed. I scramble to get back up and rush out of the room.
Fuck! What should I do? Grab the kids and run? But what if the psycho who did this is waiting outside, expecting that? I grab my phone from the living room - the kids are sound asleep, oblivious to what’s happening. Thank God!
Running around the apartment, I double-check that everything is locked up as I dial 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi, I think someone broke into my apartment…”
“What’s the address?”
I quickly give it to her.
“What makes you think that, ma’am?”
“My room is wrecked, and they left a message for me in my closet!”
In an irritatingly calm voice, the dispatcher asks, “Is the individual still in the apartment with you?”
“No, but I don’t know if they’re still nearby or not. What do I do? I have two small children with me. Do I leave? Do I stay? I’m freaking out!”
“I understand, ma’am. I need you to take a breath and calm down. If no one else is in the apartment with you, I’d advise you to stay put until the police arrive.”
“Okay…okay, thank you.” It doesn’t calm my fear, but I’m going to latch onto any advice and reassurance I can get right now since I know I’m not thinking all that straight.
The dispatcher asks if I would like to stay on the call, but with her assuring the cops are on their way, I hang up so I can call Sophie and Carter.
“Hey, Abbie,” Sophie answers, sounding concerned as if she can sense something is wrong without me saying a word. “Everything okay?”
“Not even slightly,” I tell her, then stop myself—I need to be cool and collected.
I need to force myself to push aside the worst of my panic so I don’t cause my pregnant best friend to stress and freak out herself.
“The kids are okay; nothing has happened to Chase, but I have to tell you that someone broke into my apartment. I’ve called the police.
The person who broke in isn’t here anymore, but I wanted to let you know and as much as I hate to ruin your evening, you should probably come home and get Chase. ”
“Oh, my God!” Sophie exclaims. “Okay, we’ll be back ASAP. There might be traffic, but if you need someone to get both kids, we can call Vivianne.”
“No, that’s okay,” I quickly reply. “The kids are still asleep and don’t know anything is wrong. I don’t want to wake up Dad and Vivianne and make them worry. The cops are on their way and I was advised to stay put, so we’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure? I can call your Dad for you - you know he’ll be right over.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I insist. “They’ll find out about this soon enough. No need to make them worry when there’s not much they can do right now anyway.”
“Okay, okay… don’t worry, Abbie. We’ll be there soon. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
That makes me smile and want to cry all at once. “Thanks, Sophie.”
I hang up with her and start pacing the living room floor as I wait for the cops. The kids are still asleep, cuddled together, and the last thing I want to do is scare either of them.
My mind is a riot. This has to be the same stalker that followed me here. They have upped the ante and moved past disturbing messages and have actually invaded my personal space. They’ve come into my home where my daughter is. What can I do?
I have to do something.
I’m overwhelmed with a mixture of rage and fear and guilt. And worse, I can’t stop shaking.
How could I have been so naive to think this was over?
To not take proper precautions to protect us?
I haven’t even installed a security system in the apartment yet!
I was stupid and lulled into a false sense of safety, and I’ve put Lilah at risk as a result.
Fuck! I’ve put Chase at risk, too. If I was Sophie, I would never forgive me for this.
Is there any way this wasn’t my stalker? I don’t know who else would possibly want to do something like this to me, and the message doesn’t make sense otherwise. Did I think I could replace them? What provoked that? Shit, did they see me with Jake in the parking lot at the clinic today?
Why else would they accuse me of trying to replace them?
My thoughts are interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. I wince, knowing that’s definitely going to wake the kids up.
Still, I check to see who it is before opening the door and coming face-to-face with two uniformed officers.
“Miss Wixx?” One of the cops, a tall man with black hair and kind eyes, meets my gaze and speaks calmly.
“Yes, that’s me. Come in, please.” I move aside and try to control my hands from trembling as I close the door behind them.
“Mommy?” Lilah calls out in a sleepy, shaky voice.
“Just a second, baby,” I reply as I lead the cops into the apartment.
We go to the living room where both kids are awake, just like I feared. They’re still sleepy and on the verge of tears from being woken up just after falling asleep.
“Miss, can you show us where you believe the point of entry is?” the officer asks.
“Uh, yes, it’s right…”
“Mommy!” Lilah shrieks as she begins to cry and Chase sniffs before he starts crying too.
I’m overwhelmed and starting to panic, wanting to soothe the kids but needing to pay attention to the officers. For the first time in a long time, I hate the fact that I’m on my own…
“Hello? Abbie?”
I frown at the sound of the deep voice coming from my doorway. The cops turn to see who it is as well, and to my shock, Jake is standing on my threshold.