Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
WARREN
It’s hard to concentrate during class when I see Chance’s empty seat. Since he had surgery earlier this week, he’s been excused from class to recover. Though I see him every day.
He’s currently at my house, probably lying in bed watching something on his phone at max volume.
I smile as I finish up class and head to my office. A plant is on my desk, making my heart seize, until I realize it’s the one I found the other day. That doesn’t make me any less afraid, but it’s better than someone sneaking into my office while I was in class.
I’ve resigned to go to the authorities this weekend after I finish exam prep.
I have too much on my plate right now to even consider going there to deal with their hassle.
I already know they’ll tell me there’s nothing they can do, since I’ve already gotten cameras and don’t even have the faintest idea who’s behind all this.
Before I leave for lunch, I toss the plant in the garbage, not wanting a reminder of some sick freak that wants to scare me.
Gathering the assignments Jett gave me for Chance, I head out, eager to see him. Thorne has a class that will let out a little later, then he’ll join us and stay with Chance until I get home.
I really love taking care of him. He’s low maintenance, so all Chance really asks for is help putting on his clothes. But Thorne and I have pampered him—helping him in the shower, with his hair, picking out his clothes, feeding him. That last bit he hates, but it makes Thorne and me laugh.
Well, I laugh. Thorne does this little chuckle thing like laughter isn’t built into his DNA.
He’s so grumpy and I love it.
I’m so in my head about Chance and Thorne that I don’t notice the note on my car until I’m opening the driver’s side door.
My blood runs cold as I grab it with shaky hands.
WHO IS SHE?
WHY CAN’T YOU SEE ME?
WHEN WILL I BE ENOUGH?
I WON’T LET HER HAVE YOU! YOU ARE MINE!
This was more brazen than the last letters, more threatening.
I curse, knowing there aren’t any cameras in the parking lots, something about the dean not wanting to spy on his staff. The one time I’d like to be spied upon.
Is this a student? How did they know what car I drove?
This stalker is getting out of hand, and I don’t think I can put off going to the authorities until the weekend. Instead, I resolve to go as soon as I bring Chance his lunch.
Pulling out my phone, I call Professor Cooke and ask her to cover my classes for the afternoon, saying I have to go check on a friend after surgery. Unfortunately, she’s out of town and can’t, so I quickly call Mike and he’s pissed that I’m asking when he has a free block, but he agrees.
“You owe me,” he grumbles.
“Thank you. I’m going to the police station to file a report against whoever the fuck is stalking me.” I tell him about the note and read it to him.
Mike gasps. “Oh yeah, definitely. That person is unhinged and you need to get it on record.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My mind is racing as I drive home. I check my rearview mirror more times than I can count, making sure no one is following me.
Does this person know where I live? Will I start getting harassed at home?
I can’t put Chance in danger like that. We’ll have to go to a hotel until I can contact authorities and get further guidance from them.
The stalking started with notes on my office door, then gifts in my classroom, now threatening messages stuck on my car. Whoever is after me is escalating.
I shouldn’t have put it off for so long.
I should have gone to the police as soon as I saw the bullshit with my camera and none of the frats knowing what I was talking about.
Sure, they could have been lying, but after being threatened with suspension, they would have come forward.
Suspension is just one step away from stripping the chapter for them altogether.
My heart rate spikes when I see an unknown car in my driveway, until I remember that Thorne and Jett drove Chance’s car over in case of an emergency.
Fuck, I’m so on edge. I can’t keep living like this.
I hurry into the house, breathing a sigh of relief when I hear Chance on the phone in the bedroom.
When I step inside, his eyes widen and he quickly says, “I’ll call you back,” and hangs up.
My heart sinks for a different reason. Does Chance have someone else? He’s been acting weird about his phone over the past few weeks—keeping it face down when we’re around, taking calls in another room.
Any other time, I’d refuse to confront my partner about something that’s bothering me, but I already have too much shit going on to add something else.
Dragging in a deep breath, I ask, “Is there someone else?”
Chance’s brow knits together. “Huh? Someone else like who?”
I shrug. “You’ve been weird lately. With your phone, not wanting to talk or text around me and Thorne. Are you…are you thinking about leaving us?”
There. It’s out there and he can either say yes or no. It’s up to me to trust the reply.
He struggles to sit up higher in the bed, and I rush over to help him. I straighten up his pillows so he’s comfortable.
When he’s situated, Chance rests his left hand on my face. “There’s no one else. I’m just…I’m trying to do something. It’s big and it’s the first thing I’ve done on my own. I don’t want to jinx it. But I swear, there’s no one else. You and Thorne are it for me.”
I let out a long exhale, his words penetrating the fog of hurt that tried to blanket me. If I know one thing about Chance? He’s honest, especially with us. He wouldn’t lie, even if that truth might hurt our feelings.
He gives me a side smile, then it drops and he looks nervous. “Did…did Thorne tell you what happened in the hospital when I was drugged up?”
I smile widely, recalling how Thorne told me that Chance called him Daddy and how adorable he looked when he was that happy and carefree. He also told me about Chance telling Jett about us.
“Yes, he did. I’m not mad about that. You said you can trust Jett, right?”
Chance nods, then shakes his head. “Yeah, we can, but that’s not what I mean. Did he—”
The sound of a breaking window cuts off his words. We both whip our heads to the front of the house. My heart thumps hard in my chest, wondering what the fuck.
“What was that?” Chance asks, getting to his feet. “I’ll go check it out.”
“No, you’re just out of surgery. I’ll go. Stay here.”
“We’ll go together then.”
Knowing I can’t make him stay—I’m much too small to bodily push him onto the bed and I don’t want to hurt his shoulder—I say, “Stand behind me.”
He gives me a dry look but does as I say.
We make our way to the front of the house, my pulse racing. Sweat rolls down my back as we inch down the hallway to see what the fuck is going on.
I’m not prepared for what we find.
My front door is wide open and one of the windows that bracket it is broken, shards littering the floor.
Barb stands in my living room, her eyes crazed and her hair all over her head. She holds a butcher knife in one hand and rope in the other. Her gaze flicks back and forth between me and Chance, tears filling her eyes.
I hold my hands up, not knowing what to do. “Barb. What are you doing here?” I try to keep my tone calm and even, since she has a weapon on her.
Her eyes flick back to me, narrowing as she sneers. “This is the friend you had to check on?” she asks in a voice I don’t recognize. It’s low and cold, filled with hate and disappointment. “You chose this student over me?”
“It’s…it’s not like that,” I say, trying to placate her. “We’re friends. I’m your friend.”
“I didn’t want to be your friend!” she shouts, scaring me so much that I jump, throwing my hands up to avoid being stabbed. “I wanted you to love me!”
Tears leak down her face as she stares at me, shaking the knife in our direction. “I came here to talk to you, to get you to see reason, but it looks like I’m here to save you instead.”
“If you came to talk, why do you have a knife and rope?” I try to reason with her, to get her to see how insane this is, but she only snarls.
“To make sure you didn’t call the cops while I tried to tell you why we’re meant to be.”
Chance makes a choking noise in his throat. “That’s not creepy at all.” I glare over my shoulder, hoping my eyes tell him it’s not the fucking time to be a smart ass.
Barb obviously agrees because she tosses the rope at my feet. “Tie him up.”
“What? I can’t,” I say, gesturing toward Chance’s arm in a sling. “He just had surgery. I can’t—”
“I don’t give a fuck!” She shouts, making us both jump. “Tie him up or I’ll kill him.”
Chance steps in front of me, blocking me with his body. “You’ll have to get to me before you get to him.”
I hear the sneer in Barb’s voice more than I see it. “You’re protecting him from me? I’d never hurt him. I want to take care of him. I left all those notes and gifts for you, Warren. I showed you my love.”
Barb is the one that’s been threatening me? She’s my stalker? But why? I thought we talked about only being friends. She seemed to understand. What did she think would come of this?
Chance is far larger than me, but this isn’t his fight. It’s mine. For some reason, Barb has it in her mind that I’m hers. She won’t hurt me. But she will hurt Chance.
I step around him and raise my hands toward her. “We can talk about this, Barb. We can—”
“I just wanted you to see me,” she says, talking over me as if I hadn’t spoken. “I just want you to love me. I’m a good person. We’re soul mates. You’re supposed to be mine. I deserve you.”
“You don’t,” Chance says in a pitying tone. “If you did, you wouldn’t have come here to kidnap him.”
“I wasn’t,” she says. “I just wanted him to listen. If he heard me out, he’d see.”
“Barbara,” I murmur slowly, “I don’t see you romantically. I like you as a friend, but that’s all it could ever be.”
That’s the wrong thing to say. Her head snaps up and anger fills her eyes. “Then if I can’t have you, no one can!” She lets out a loud scream of rage and rushes over to us, knife held high.