Chapter 4
“They will say I shed innocent blood. What’s blood for if not for shedding?”
—Candyman
Eight months later…
Valentina
“What do you want, Bruno? I told you never to call me again.” Another reason to change my number.
I hadn’t heard from him in over a year, maybe longer.
Days, weeks, and months had run together recently.
Just hearing his voice brought the same terrible angst as the day I’d finally driven the bastard from my life.
“I just need to talk to you.”
While there wasn’t the familiar haze of drugs clouding his voice, that meant nothing to me. He’d burned every bridge and then some. “I told you before. I will not talk to you. The courts have spoken. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
“Baby, this is important. I’m calling to—”
There was no chance in hell I was giving my abusive fucking ex another moment of my time. I didn’t give a shit why he was calling. Fuck him. Almost as soon as I ended the call, the phone rang again.
Anger replaced annoyance. Why had he called me?
Why? Because he was the most selfish bastard in the world.
Was it not enough he’d cleaned out my bank account to feed his habit?
My God. I glared at the phone, refusing to answer.
This time when it stopped ringing, my fingers flew, blocking his number forever.
Thank God, he didn’t know where I lived. After the horror of the last few months, I’d taken every precaution to ensure my address had been wiped from every database. Thank God for good friends who knew about computer programs capable of doing so. There. Now I could breathe.
The nervousness continued. I was sick inside, furious that Bruno had found me. At least I shoved aside the memories, much more in control of myself than I’d been when under his spell. Never again. If I ever became involved with a man, he would be above reproach. Maybe a cop.
Or a judge.
I bit my lip as a sweet memory replaced the ugly one. Bad girl. You can’t always have what you want.
Sadly, that was far too true. But a girl could dream.
A flash of lightning outside the window drew my attention. I was very anxious. After witnessing the murder months before I’d learned to hate storms. Yet tonight and with Bruno’s call, I felt even more on edge. As if something terrible was about to happen.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Your time is up.
For some reason the words continued to tickle the back of my mind. They were something a friend of mine used to say when we were kids. They’d flustered me at least five times in a few days, mostly since I had the terrible feeling I was being watched.
Stalked.
Hunted.
The nightmarish concept had caused me to run a red light, to be ten minutes late for work, to almost forget to purchase milk at the store, and had kept me completely awake for four nights in a row. At some point, I’d start hallucinating.
I had my reasons.
They all involved a real-life monster who’d managed to crawl from his locked cage.
A slight rumble could easily be heard through the thin panes of glass. Yet even though they’d begun to frighten me by taking away all sense of control, my attention was caught by the swirling dark clouds fighting the lingering early twilight for dominance.
Fearful the lights would go out given the weather forecast, I’d already dragged out my flashlight. There was nothing worse than being caught in a pitch-black world.
Whenever that happened, I was hauled back to the horrific, vivid dreams plaguing every night. I’d even begun to sleep with a light on.
While the television was on, it offered little comfort. I was exhausted, hungry, and antsy. Those days had begun to outnumber the few good ones. Even eating had become too toxic.
Why? Because with a single phone call from Jasmine Guthrie, an attorney with the prosecutor’s office, my nightmare had returned in full force. My God. I couldn’t live this way every day of my life. Then Bruno had to call. Did I piss karma off in some horrible way?
Forcing myself to pull further away from the window, I grabbed my glass of wine and headed to Bella’s cracked door, pushing it open with a single finger.
Thankfully, I had a slight sense of peace once I did.
I could watch her sleeping all night, the little angel the best thing that had ever happened to me.
With the starry effect the light on her nightstand gave off, I often wondered if she had dreams of a handsome prince carrying her off on a perfect white steed to his kingdom.
Maybe so, but at not quite four she was a little young for fantastical dreams. Maybe instead she was dreaming of teddy bears and stuffed kitties. Two of her favorites.
Speaking of which, in her sleep she’d tossed her favorite bear to the floor.
That just wouldn’t do. Very little awakened my daughter except if she sensed her bear was missing.
As I crouched down to snag it, I studied Bella’s features.
Thank God she had my nose. Brushing hair from her face, I was amazed she could sleep through anything.
A clap of thunder brought a slight whimper and I had to bite back a laugh. My little girl wasn’t scared of anything, but her mother was terrified of storms. Talk about an example to set.
I nuzzled the bear into her arms, tugging the covers up just a little higher. What a little sleeping beauty.
Satisfied if not hopeful she’d sleep the night away, I backed away only to hear my phone ringing. Instantly, I thought about Bruno, quickly reminding myself that it wasn’t possible. Unless he also had a burner phone. Goddamn the asshole. Yet what if it wasn’t him? What if…
I managed to catch the call on the third ring and without spilling wine all over myself.
However, as soon as I looked at the screen, I started shaking, driven into the worst moment of my life all over again.
Immediately, I tossed the phone on the table, backing away as if it was on fire, still staring at the screen.
Expecting another call, I suddenly couldn’t stand the quiet. I moved toward the television, doing all I could to keep from experiencing an anxiety attack.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Count to ten.
One. Two. Three.
I’d had a couple of attacks in the first few months, but they’d died down since the horrible fuck of a monster had been sent to prison. Now, everything had changed. I suddenly felt as if I was suffocating.
I’d cheered when I’d heard the news. Guilty on all counts. I’d hoped for the death penalty, which was legal in the state of Florida. How he’d managed to only get life in prison I wouldn’t know, but even that had failed.
I was reminded of that as soon as the news came on. When his face popped across the screen, I grew sick to my stomach. In every photograph I’d seen he’d been expressionless.
Yet his eyes were marked with the deepest sense of depravity I’d ever witnessed. The same eyes as I’d seen on a horrible dark night months before.
Shuddering, with my nerves already on edge, I smashed my finger on the off button. But the damn television wouldn’t cut off. Anger rushed to the surface and I squeezed the hunk of plastic, cursing under my breath. When it still didn’t go off, I smashed it on the television stand.
Batteries flew from the back, slamming against the wall.
At least I didn’t need to look at his ugly face any longer.
Turning around, I concentrated on the wine, closing my eyes and going to my personal happy place. I’d read about the little trick online. Finding a place that made me happy would break the cycle of terror. I hoped whoever had written the shit hadn’t gotten paid because I was a ball of nerves.
When I was finally able to breathe, I allowed the death grip on the glass to fade, even managing to set it down.
The phone not only rang but vibrated, skipping slightly across the table. My eyes flew open. Another wave of even more powerful rage skipped right past the fear ebbing close to the surface.
Without thinking or bothering to look at the screen, I answered it.
“What the fuck do you want?”
There was silence on the other end. Unearthly silence. The caller definitely wasn’t Bruno. He’d never hesitated to shout at me as if I’d been the problem.
My mind fractured, images and thoughts regarding the worst night of my life claiming my resolve.
“What do you want?” I pulled the phone away.
It was the same unknown number. With my hand shaking from both terror and a shot of adrenaline, I exhaled.
“Listen to me, you fuckhead. Don’t call me again or I will have you arrested.
” It wasn’t the first call, but it was the first time I’d confronted whoever was on the other end of the line.
Which I already knew.
It looked like I would need to change my number.
Maybe the best idea was to contact the attorney involved in the case.
I’d kept her card. Where had I put it? My dresser.
I stormed into my bedroom, yanking open one drawer.
Not in there. I jerked open the second, ready to toss every piece of underwear from inside.
My fingers finally felt a small card. Yanking it free, I hadn’t realized there was another one attached. It fluttered to the floor.
In my hand was the attorney’s number. Certainly, there had to be something Ms. Guthrie could do.
Yeah, right, Val. How the hell is anyone going to be able to prove he had anything to do with…
calling and remaining silent. Well, what about the writing in the dust on my car?
Seeing that had been horrible. But I lived in a less than stellar neighborhood where crime existed. Anyone could have vandalized my car.
I was no fool. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to lead me or anyone else right to him.
Still, I had to let her know. That’s what I’d been told to do.
Before I left the room, I snatched the other card from the floor.
As soon as it was in my hand, the full effect of the anger swept away.
I’d tried not to think about the handsome, dominating man because doing so brought back both painful and amazing memories.
I rubbed my finger across the card, half laughing to myself for such a childish move.
He’d managed to bring out such joy in me when I’d felt as if the world was crushing me into oblivion.
As selfish as it was since a man had lost his life to a madman, at least something good had come from the horrible experience.
If only the just and formidable judge could help me now.
I left the card on my dresser, determined to leave the attorney a voicemail. Then at least I could feel as if I’d done something, bringing light of what the monster might be doing. With my phone in hand, another bolt of lightning dragged my attention. The storm would be a doozy.
After dialing her number, a bolt of current caused me to walk closer to the window. There was electricity in the air and not only from the storm.
At least the rain had yet to start falling. As expected, given the time, a voicemail clicked in. I pressed my hand against the pane of glass, absently scanning the street. Wait a minute. What in the hell was that?
The call forgotten, I pressed end, holding the phone close to my chest.
I craned my neck, trying to get a closer look.
There was someone standing under the orange glow of the streetlight.
Shrinking back, I blinked a few times. Now wasn’t the time for the hallucinations to begin.
When I looked again, I wasn’t entire certain whether the object I was seeing was a person or just created from the incoming storm.
My bedroom was closer. I tiptoed my way past Bella’s room into my own, hesitating before I made my way in the darkness toward the window.
Courage was something I’d had my entire life.
While my ex had done his best to strip away some of the quiet resolve my parents had taught me, I’d fought back, only to be drowned in violence.
But here I was a survivor so courage I should have.
Fuck it.
I peeked out the window, breathing normally until I was able to focus. There was no doubt in my mind someone was standing against the streetlight, peering up at the apartment building.
And to my bedroom window.
With another bolt of lightning, the vibrancy of the flash allowed me a much better view of what I was seeing.
A living, breathing monster.
Instantly, my body started to shut down, my mind not far behind. I jerked away, hiding in the shadow, gasping for air. Not again. I didn’t have the strength to go through it again. Not this girl. Not after…
No. I couldn’t do this. I refused to fall into another panic attack. No one was going to intimidate me. Especially not some twisted killer who’d just won the lottery of life.
With more determination kicking my butt than fear, I returned to the window.
There was no one there.
No one.
Had I really been hallucinating? Right now, anything was possible, but after the phone call, I refused to believe I was losing my mind. A man had been standing outside my apartment and I knew who it was.
He was threatening me.
He was stalking me.
And soon, he would kill me.
Because I was the only witness.