Chapter 13
Holly
I should be more patient in situations like these, but now that I finally know who’s been stalking me, all I want to do is cut his throat and play around in his blood.
“Faster!” I yell as Theo stabs the shovel into the bitter earth, bending forward to catch his breath. “We don’t have all night!”
He looks over his shoulder, holding the shovel in one hand and pushing his sweaty hair off his brow with the other. I stay seated on the hood of his car with my legs crossed and start scrolling through his phone, sifting through the endless list of stolen text messages.
Friday, Nov 16th, 2021
April: Movie tonight? I made popcorn :)
Holly: Working tonight. But I’ll try swinging by.
April: No worries! Ly <3
Tuesday, Jan 25th, 2022
Camille: this detergent removes blood stains but not pinot noir?
Monday, April 10th, 2022
April: Don’t forget to wish Parker today! It’s his birthday :)
Holly: Got it.
Monday, April 10th, 2022
Holly: Happy birthday, asshole. You’re one year closer to death.
Parker:
Holly: Fuck you too. Don’t expect a gift.
Monday, June 19th, 2022
Camille: are we still on 4 tonight?
Holly: Not sure. I just got paged for surgery.
Camille: ugh
Thursday, October 28th, 2022
UNKNOWN: How DOES it feel? Killing someone?
UNKNOWN: Want me to show you?
Friday, October 29th, 2022
UNKNOWN: Good. I’ve always liked you blonde.
The creepy “unknown” messages aren’t in his sent folder. He must’ve used a burner phone for those. I tap on his inbox. It’s mostly innocuous. Promotional messages, Parker, more Parker, and one recent message from an unsaved contact. Five words.
+1 (917) 555-9012: may the best man win
A strong gust of wind whooshes past my shoulders, blowing some dirt into my face.
I look up at him. We’re in the middle of the fucking woods at 2 a.m. so it’s pretty dark, but I can still make out the way the white button-down sticks to his toned back, dripping with sweat as he keeps digging, his shoulders tight with tension.
Every single cell in my body is aflame with nothing but sheer anger.
Three years? He’s been stalking me for three fucking years, and I never caught on? I used to think I was smart. That if someone would ever try to come after me, I would be perceptive enough to know.
Theo keeps digging and the longer I go on staring at his stupid back, the more enraged I become.
I can’t believe this. The fucker has known that I have been killing people for the past three years?
! He’s known that and has done…nothing about it?
It makes no fucking sense. He could have — should have — gone to the cops, or at the very least held it over my head for some twisted form of blackmail.
But he did nothing. Well, not nothing. He did continue to piss me off every single day, fully knowing that each time I threatened to cut him open, I meant it.
And now I’m not sure if I’m angry about the stalking or insulted that he’s not even a little bit scared of me.
A hot flare bites into my resolve to remain calm. I swipe up on his phone screen and open his photos app. They’re all neatly cataloged by time and — what the fuck? My eyes immediately catch onto a folder in the bottom right corner.
It’s titled “Mine <3.” I tap on it.
Mother…fucker! It’s ME!
Thousands and thousands of pictures of me!
Me lying on my bed, me making coffee in my kitchen, me slitting someone’s throat, me slitting someone’s wrists, more pictures of me on my bed, and — oh god.
Is that how my nose looks when I sleep? Why does it look so fat and stubby?
A disturbed frown forms between my brows. I lift my hand to touch my nose.
What. The. Fuck.
What the fuck!
Who the hell does he think he is, taking unflattering pictures of me without my knowledge, making me look like a pig?! I want to scream.
Instead, I take out my own phone and text Camille. Need to talk. Of course, a second later the same text shows up on Theo’s phone and my anger escalates to a whole new level.
Cami texts me back, All good? I call her and she picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, what’s up? Is everything all right?”
I can’t hear her properly. There’s a lot of noise in the background. “You’re at the bar?”
“Yep. I’m closing tonight. What happened? Your text sounded urgent.”
“It’s Theo, Cami. He’s the one who’s been sending me those messages.”
She sighs. “This again? I thought we already discussed this.”
“Just listen. I was at April’s apartment for that whole dress fitting thing, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Thirty minutes later, Theo shows up —”
“For what?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Anyway, long story short he offers to drop me home —”
“Why?”
“Also doesn’t matter.”
“Is he dead?”
“Cami.”
“Please tell me this story ends with you killing him.”
“Cami, he didn’t ask for my address.”
“Who didn’t?”
“Theo. He didn’t ask me where I lived. He just … dropped me home.”
“Okay?”
“What do you mean by okay? He didn’t ask me where —”
“Holly!” Theo shouts at the same time and I put my hand over the speaker. Shit. “I think the graves are all done, love!”
I glare at him, and he just smiles in return. Fucking idiot.
“Who was that?” Cami asks, sounding mildly irritated.
I hesitate.
“Holly, where are you?”
Fuck. “We’re in the woods.”
A pause and I imagine Cami frowning. She asks me who the fuck I mean by we and I fill her in on the remainder of the story.
“Are you fucking kidding me? He’s been stalking you for three fucking years and you didn’t know?!” Cami asks in disbelief and Theo’s words echo inside my brain: “Two and a half, actually.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I say.
“Why on earth are you with him in the goddamn woods? He could be dangerous.”
That almost makes me laugh.
“This isn’t funny, Holly,” Cami says. “This whole thing sounds incredibly reckless. Even for someone like you.”
“It’s not dangerous. I have it all under control.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Please stop freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m worried. That man could hurt you.”
And now I do laugh.
Cami lets out a sigh. A very deep, very irritated sigh. “Send me your location. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“To do what? I told you, I have this handled.”
“You’re in the woods with your stalker at two in the morning. I don’t think that’s the definition of ‘handling’ things.”
“Camille, I promise you, I have this covered. He’s not going to hurt me. Please, this is Theo we’re talking about. The man cried actual tears when I gave him a couple of stitches earlier. If he manages to hurt me, I might as well die of shame.”
“Why did you give him stitches?”
“I stabbed him. He was bleeding.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so confused right now,” she says.
“You’re not listening to me, Cami. Theo has been stalking me for the past two and a half years and he has done nothing about it.”
There’s a brief silence on the other end.
“The text,” I go on. “All it did was let me know that this person, whoever it is, knows what I did. What I’ve been doing all these years. It never threatened to turn me in. Or blackmail me. Cami, the text did nothing too. It’s Theo.” It has to be.
“Okay, but none of this explains why you thought it would be a good idea to camp in the fucking woods with him. Send me your location, Holly. Now.”
“I told you I’m fine. Honestly, I just called to update you on the situation. Mainly to let you know that you were wrong and I was right. As always.”
I obviously mean that as a joke in a “can we please not fight again?” way, but Cami completely misinterprets my tone and lets out another irritated sigh. “Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want. As always.”
“Cami —”
The line disconnects and I keep the phone pressed to my ear for a few more seconds.
Cami and I don’t have that many fights or arguments, but when we do, I always run out of steam towards the end, by then I’m not even mad.
Just confused. And a little ashamed. I don’t know why.
Cami is the first “real” friend I’ve had in forever, and by real, I mean someone who knows me for me and is interesting enough for me to emotionally invest in. I hate letting her down.
It’s okay. She probably just needs time to cool off.
Releasing my breath in one long, slow sigh, watching as it forms a tiny white puff in the freezing air, my shoulders slump down.
I glance in Theo’s direction and find that he’s already watching me.
He’s eyeing me with more interest than I expected.
I feel the scrutiny of his gaze in every cell of my body.
Not. A. Fan.
I hop off the hood, sliding his switched-off phone into the pocket of my jacket, and step forward to inspect the graves. My face immediately scrunches up. “This is what you’ve been doing for the past forty-five minutes?”
Theo nods.
“My neighbor’s dog won’t fit into a hole this shallow. Let alone three fully grown adult corpses.”
“Your neighbor doesn’t have a dog,” is his only response as he continues digging. He buries the shovel with unnecessary force, sending a shower of dirt and snow cascading onto my shoes.
I snatch the shovel from his hands and start digging myself. “Go get the bodies out of the trunk.”
The wind nips at my face, howling through the trees, and I start shoving out dirt to make the graves deeper.
It’s not snowing anymore, but Upstate New York clings to the cold like no other place.
I go on digging — sweating and shivering at the same time — and tuck my chin into my chest in a vain attempt to fight the chill.
Another icy breeze whooshes past my face and I feel a strong pair of hands over my shoulders along with a soft, warm fabric draping my body from behind.
“There you go,” Theo says, his voice vibrating against my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin. “Much better.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”