2. Chapter 2
Chapter two
One Week Ago
— UNSTEADY BY GRACIE AbrAMS
I fucking love my sister.
As I set my purse on the hook in my room and plop on my bed, I reminisce on the beautiful night I just spent with some of my favorite people. Liv released her second book a few hours ago, and Tristan—her everything—invited us all over to celebrate: his family and friends, me, Liv’s college friends, and his sister, my best friend, Teags.
Teagen West is probably the only true friend I have in the world, and I’ll never stop being grateful for her existence.
My older sister is officially a two-time author, and I couldn't be more proud of her. Since both of us have cut off contact with our parents, she’s the only family I have left.
But she’s the only family I need.
I’m glad Tristan and Liv decided to stay in Pennsylvania. I wasn't sure if Liv would follow him back to California, but after the rockiness of the last four years, they finally figured it all out. Even if I don’t believe I’m destined for love in this lifetime, my sister has found it in Tristan. They met in their senior year of college and were going strong until my parents decided to break them up.
Liv was always the daughter who got pushed aside for all my shit, and I was the daughter who got smothered and overwhelmed by our parents.
I can say with my full chest that our parents were not meant to be parents. I don't even know why they had us if they were going to treat us like shit on the bottom of their shoes. But regardless, I have Liv, my beautiful, inspiring, and intelligent sister.
I decide to head straight for my shower, knowing that if I sit for much longer, I won't be getting back up. I turn it on to the hottest it can go before stepping out of my outfit from tonight. I stole Liv’s jacket because I knew it would look great with some of the vintage pieces I have in my closet, and I set it in my walk-in closet before I hop in. Liv should know that I’m not giving it back—she didn't even ask for it, since she knows she never wore it.
After my shower, I turn my classical playlist to the lowest setting, turn my night light on, and hop into bed with my Kindle.
I may be twenty-five, but I still sleep with sound and a night light because of what happened four years ago. I hate being alone in this house, but being alone is better than being surrounded by a bunch of people I don't trust.
At least when I’m by myself, I know the only person who can hurt me is me and my own thoughts.
As I’m transported into the world of my book, my phone ringing interrupts my break from reality. Connie’s ringtone— I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor—hums from my phone, and I pick it up.
“Hi, Con. It’s like one in the morning. Is everything okay?” She never calls me this late, not unless it’s something important. I wonder what it is this time .
“Ralph is getting out of prison tomorrow.”
I stop breathing. “N–No. What?”
“It’s confirmed. He’s getting out for good behavior. We knew this was possible, Bree—”
I hang up on her. I can’t breathe. My chest is on fire. Tears are flooding my eyes and dripping down my face, but I have no control over them. I don't even feel like I’m inside my body. I'm somehow sweating and freezing at the same time. I have goosebumps, but my skin is on fire. I’m a walking contradiction.
He’s getting out. My stalker is getting out of prison. I knew it was possible. He was only given five to ten years in the first place, which was bullshit considering what he did to me, but the judge went against everything my lawyer fought for. I assumed I would be in a better place and that he would’ve eventually forgotten about me.
But there’s no way. I put him in prison, and there’s no way he’s going to just let this slide, especially after what he said to me that night.
He’s going to come for me, and this time, he might actually achieve what he set out to do the last time I saw him.
I somehow make it out of my bed and onto the floor, my phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline.
“H-Hey, S-Siri, call Liv,” I say, hoping that my phone dials her for me. She picks up on the third ring.
“What did you forget this time? I can try and drop it off before—”
“Liv, he’s getting out. They’re letting him out.” I don't even know how I get the words out. I can barely breathe. I need to get out of my house, my body, my mind. I can’t handle this. I can't handle being back in the same place I was four years ago. All it took was one call to catapult me back to who I used to be. I hate this. I thought I was stronger, but maybe all the progress I made was an illusion.
“That’s not possible.”
“Connie just called me. It’s real and it’s happening. What the fuck do I do, Liv?” I don’t know who else to go to. Liv is the only person other than Teags who fully understands what I was like when all this started. My parents don't care—they made that clear when they kept the house I was assaulted in.
“We’ll figure this out, Bree. I’m calling Vince tomorrow to see if he’ll come back.”
Vince. Just hearing his name makes me feel a bit safer, but I doubt he’ll just drop everything and come back. He did promise me that if Ralph ever got out, he would be back, but he could be anywhere in the world right now. He’s probably on a job, and there’s no way he’ll get here in time. Plus, I can’t do that to him—especially because of those rules of his. “Thanks, Liv. I’ll try texting him later, but I have to go. I hung up on Connie as soon as she told me, and she’s calling me back.”
“It’s fine, sis. I love you.”
I don't answer her before I answer Connie. “I understand this is tough, but please stop hanging up on me. He officially gets out tomorrow. It’ll hit the news in the morning most likely.”
“I-I’m sorry. I had to call Liv. I had to—”
“It’s okay, Bree. I know this is a lot, but you still have an order of protection against him. He technically can’t come near you or contact you without being arrested again. You’re safe, Bree.”
I hear the words, but I don’t believe her. “No. I’m not.”
Two Hours Later
Bree: He’s getting out.
Bree: I don't know what to do. I don't even know why I’m texting you because I know you’re probably working on another case.
Bree: I need you, if you’re able.
Vince: When does he get out?
Bree: Tomorrow.
Vince: My current case has about a month left. Will you be okay until then?
Bree: Yeah. I’ll figure something out.
Bree: See you in a month.
Vince: See you soon.