Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
On our next day off, Flint wakes me with a smile. Not that he really has any other default, at least not that I’ve seen here, at home. He hands me a cup of coffee and watches, expectantly, while I shift enough to brace my back against the headboard and take my first life-giving sip.
His smile is so big it seems like it is about to split his face. He reminds me of an overly eager puppy, doing everything he can to stop himself from jumping on a visitor. What the hell?
“Morning,” I say, warily. Why is he looking at me like that?
‘Morning,’ Calida sings into both our minds. At least I assume it’s both, since Flint turns to look at her. She’s standing on the couch, like she too is waiting for something.
“What’s up with you two?” Maybe it’s nothing and enough caffeine hasn’t made it past the blood brain barrier yet.
‘Flint has a surprise.’
I blink, and look up at Calida, then shift my eyes to Flint.
“What sort of surprise?”
“A good one,” Flint answers, turning away and making his way to the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the water running for a shower. “You should go get cleaned up. We’ve got things to do.” He says, coming back out.
I’m not sure what to make of the idea of these two planning a surprise, but I decide that not being enthusiastic would hurt both of their feelings and dim their shine. If they want to spend a day off doing surprise things, who am I to argue?
I hurry to finish my coffee and swing my legs out of bed.
“That sounds amazing.” I kiss Flint’s cheek lightly as I pass by, shutting the bathroom door behind me.
‘Why are you so red?’ is the last thing I hear Calida ask Flint before their conversation is drowned out by my shower music and the rush of water.
I finish getting ready, hoping that Flint hasn’t gotten it into his head to take me to a fancy brunch or something.
Not only am I leery of anything fancy — my klutz skills always seem to make an appearance at the worst possible time — but I am definitely not dressed for fancy.
I throw on jeans with holes worn in both knees, a pair of sneakers and leave my hair loose, still damp from the shower.
A t-shirt proclaiming that I’m a feral reader completes the ensemble, with a zip up hoodie thrown over my arm as a nod to the chill in the morning air.
Slap on some minimal makeup to make myself feel better, and I’m set.
When I come out of the bathroom, Flint is leaning against the door to the apartment and Calida is nowhere in sight. A giant Ikea-sized tote bag sits at his feet, but I can’t tell what he has in there.
In his hand, he holds my phone.
My heart starts to sink as he raises his eyes from the screen. I don’t know what the expression on his face is.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m reading a fucking mess of threatening bullshit. Your phone wouldn’t stop going off. I thought someone was in trouble. What the fuck is this, Casie?”
He holds out my phone, showing me the screen. My heart finishes its trip to my stomach before bouncing up and settling in my throat. There are pages now. No more slightly creepy flirty and unasked for crotch shots. Whoever is messaging me, they’re getting more unhinged.
Unknown Number
9:13 PM: You looked tired today. Maybe you're not sleeping well. I could help with that.
Unknown Number
11:22 AM: That book you recommended at the counter? I read it in one night. You have such good taste. I bet you'd be just as good in bed.
Unknown Number
3:41 PM: Red suits you. But next time, maybe don’t bend over so far. It’s not safe to tempt people like that.
Unknown Number
6:09 PM: You smiled at that guy in the café. Did he earn it? Or are you just easy?
Unknown Number
1:17 AM: I saw you with him. Every kiss. Every moan. You should close your curtains if you want privacy. I’m going to make you pay. Make you scream.
Unknown Number
2:33 PM: Why do you pretend not to know me? We’re so connected. I could reach out and touch you any time I want.
He scrolls down to the most recent texts, sent while I was in the shower.
Unknown Number
10:58 AM: You think you’re safe in that shop. But locks are just suggestions. You won’t even hear me coming.
Unknown Number
10:59 AM: He can’t protect you. You’ll scream his name, but I’ll be the one who answers.
Unknown Number
11:01 AM: Tick tock. Every moment you ignore me, I get closer. And trust me, sweetheart—I don’t take silence well.
“I don’t know who it is,” I blurt. “It started months ago. Probably closer to a year, really. First they were weirdly flirty. Occasionally he’d send a picture of his dick.
” I gesture, vaguely, with a hand. “Obviously it’s gotten more threatening.
I can’t stop it. Every time I block a number, he gets a new one.
There’s no way to trace it. I’ve changed my number more than once, but it didn’t help.
I thought if I ignored him, if I didn’t answer, maybe it would stop. ”
I drop onto the couch and cover my face with my hands, suddenly exhausted.
Flint continues to scroll through the messages. I can feel something dangerous in his silence.
“Is this why you wanted me to move in?”
Oh shit.
Ash is getting ready for the day I’ve planned for us and I feel like an impatient child. I’m so excited to give her this day, I wish she’d move her ass. She’s beautiful first thing in the morning, last thing at night, but she insisted on needing time to make herself “presentable.”
I’m willing to entertain her. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this content, even hopeful. Since I’ve started spending the nights in her bed, feeling her breathe, holding her close, being with her… part of the weight has eased off my soul.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by Ash’s phone going crazy on the coffee table where she’d tossed it last night before jumping me. I can’t focus on the memory of her throwing herself on me as the phone continues to buzz.
Becoming concerned that something might be wrong, I hesitate but reach for it. It lights up, again, in my hand. Another incoming message.
Waking the screen and locating the thread, I skim to see what is so fucking important.
And then I re-read. Very. Fucking. Carefully.
My vision goes black around the edges with absolute rage. The blood roars in my ears.
How long has she been getting these? How long has she been carrying this alone?
She comes out of the bathroom and freezes when she sees me. I carefully open myself to taste her emotions and feel a fresh wave of rage when I taste the shame.
“What are you doing?” she asks, like she doesn’t already know.
I struggle for calm, but fall short. “I’m reading a fucking mess of threatening bullshit. Your phone wouldn’t stop going off. I thought someone was in trouble. What the fuck is this, Casie?”
She stands just close enough to read the most recent messages and I see her go pale.
“I don’t know who it is,” she blurts out, speaking fast. “It started months ago. Probably closer to a year, really. First they were weirdly flirty. Occasionally he’d send a picture of his dick.
” she gestures, vaguely, with a hand. “Obviously it’s gotten more threatening.
I can’t stop it. Every time I block a number, he gets a new one.
There’s no way to trace it. I’ve changed my number more than once, but it didn’t help.
I thought if I ignored him, if I didn’t answer, maybe it would stop. "
She moves away, flopping herself on the couch and hiding her face in her hands.
“Is this why you wanted me to move in?” If it is, I can hardly blame her. Whoever this is is crossing boundaries left and right. I’ve seen the news headlines. Being a mortal woman, living alone, has to be a terrifying experience.
“What? No! No, never. Honestly, I didn’t even connect the two. I just wanted you here, Flint. I mean, okay, at first I wanted to make sure you and Calida weren’t living on the street. But now, I just… this is our home. Or well, yours, as long as you want it to be.”
When I say “Ours.” it comes out in a growl that is heavy with relief.
She continues to hide from me, her voice muffled. “I understand if this is more than you signed on for…”
I toss the phone down, cross to her and pull her onto my lap. “Look at me.” I wait for her eyes to meet mine. “This isn’t your fault. We’ll figure it out.”
“But he said — he watched us. He saw us. He knows.” Her voice is rising with hysteria. “I feel so dirty.”
I can feel my magick flaring, looking for a safe outlet but right now, there isn’t one.
“This isn’t your fault. You, I, we — we haven’t done anything wrong. The fault, the blame, the dirtiness — it all belongs to whoever this is. We’ll find them and we’ll stop it. Don’t let him tarnish what we are.”
She blinks tears away and finally focuses on my face. I know she’s studying me. I try to keep my anger as banked as possible, hoping she won’t see the murderous rage entirely too close to snapping the leash.
“I won’t.” she whispers, fiercely.
There she is.
"Can we not let him ruin today? Anymore than he has, I mean.”
“Are you sure you still want to do this?”
“Yes. Please. I would love to forget this and focus on whatever scheme you and Calida came up with. Please, Flint.”
Who am I to deny her?
She gets to her feet and gestures to herself. “Is this okay?” She turns in a circle.
“You’re beautiful, as always.”
Pretty color stands out in her cheeks, although she’s still too pale for my liking. “Thank you. But I meant does this outfit work for whatever you had planned?”
I take in her clothing. “Are you comfortable?”
"…yes? I mean, I’ll grab a hoodie in case I get chilly.”
I nod and cross to grab the bag we’ll need. I work up a smirk, locking the rest of my rage into a mental box. “Then you’ll do.”