16. A Grotesque Gift
sixteen
A Grotesque Gift
Iris
Iris stirred from the bed, the sheets cold beside her where Nash should have been. She rose with a sigh, longing etched into the curves of her body as she slid out of bed. She had hoped to find him next to her when she awoke.
Waking up next to her husband would have been nice. But she couldn't be greedy. He was a powerful man, she reprimanded herself.
Determined to keep her good mood, she went to find him. He wouldn't mind if she just sat near him while he did whatever he needed to do, surely. She slipped into a silk robe that was hanging over a chair by the window. Her feet whispered across the floorboards as she went in search of her husband.
She smiled softly as she thought of him as her husband.
They took a long non-traditional road to get there, but they made it all the same.
She descended the grand staircase, her hand gliding down the railing softly.
Her eyes searching for some sign of life.
The thought of running into the guards gave her a moment's pause.
She glanced down at her robe and then shook her head.
It covered everything, and Nash was notorious for keeping the guards outside. No one would see her.
As she took the last step off the stairs, she heard sounds coming from the left.
She followed the noise into the sunroom.
She smiled as she walked in. It was one of her favorite rooms. Bright morning light spilled into the space from the large windows along the far wall.
Her eyes fell onto the myriad of wrapped presents that crowded the large room.
And there, amidst the sea of gifts, was Daisy. She had a pile of presents next to her and a notebook open on her lap. A glance out the windows revealed Dahlia playing in the sand within easy sight of her mother. Iris smiled at the picture before her.
"Good morning," Iris called softly, her voice breaking the hush.
Daisy looked up, her brown eyes reflecting the sunlight that danced through the windows.
A smile graced her lips upon seeing Iris.
"Good morning to you. You look like you've had quite the night," she teased, nodding toward her neck.
Iris's hand came up to cover it. She blushed.
She hadn't even thought to cover her neck.
But if her memory of last night was right, she knew that it would be covered in love bites.
Iris chuckled, a low sound filled with satisfaction. "You could say that, yes."
"Here, have some coffee," Daisy offered, her hands cradling a warm mug.
"You look like you need it." She reached out and took the mug from her.
She felt a rush of familiarity, they spent countless mornings just like this.
Enjoying coffee together while Dahlia played.
The steam curled between them, and they both shared a small smile.
"Thank you." Iris accepted the cup, letting the heat seep into her skin. She could see the notebook in her hand better now, and she found its pages filled with meticulous handwriting. "What's this?"
"Since you've been... occupied," Daisy said with a chuckle, her tone rich with implication, "I've been listing all the presents and who they're from." She tapped the notebook gently. "To spare you the task. Didn't know what else to do."
'Occupied' was an understatement; the night was more passionate than she had expected.
But his leaving before she woke up felt wrong.
She pushed the niggling thought aside. She glanced at the notebook, then at Daisy, gratitude mingling with the affection in her eyes.
"That's incredibly thoughtful. Let me help. "
Iris reached for a fresh notebook, its spine crisp and unmarred by use.
She flipped it open to the first page as Daisy handed her a silver letter opener.
With a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Iris sliced through the tape of the first box, peeling back the flaps to reveal tissue paper cradling a crystal vase.
The two women settled into a rhythm, Iris allowing the mundanity of the task to anchor her drifting thoughts. As they worked, they listened to Dahlia playing outside, her laughter punctuating the still air—a beacon of innocence that brought a smile to both of their faces.
"She seems happy," Iris commented. Daisy looked out the window, a sad smile on her face.
"Yes, I think being here with you helped. She misses you." Iris's heart clenched at hearing that.
"I miss her too. You as well." She murmured. "It doesn't feel the same, being apart."
"I know what you mean," she said while opening the next gift in the pile.
"From the Hendersons," Daisy noted, scribbling it down. "They must have a flair for the extravagant." She said with a laugh as she pulled out a diamond encrusted tiara.
"Seems like it," Iris murmured, her mind drifting momentarily to Nash, wondering what could have called him away on their first morning together as husband and wife. He couldn't be bored with her already, could he? Was it all about the chase, after all?
"Hey." Daisy's voice pulled her back from her dark thoughts. "When things settle down, I'm going to come around more often. Dahlia misses you when you're not here."
"That would be wonderful. I'd love that," Iris started, her heart warming at the thought of spending more time with them both again. Her new life in New York would be infinitely better if she had them with her. "Nash said that he would sent—"
A sharp gasp tore from her throat, cutting her response short.
The package in her hands held a grotesque sight—the mangled form of a bunny, its fur stained with thick, dark blood.
Impaled in the middle of the box with a metal spike was the head.
Someone had gouged its eyes out, leaving nothing but empty holes.
A strangled scream escaped her as revulsion coursed through her body.
Daisy, who had been laughing as she watched Dahlia outside, rushed over at the sound of Iris's terror. Her own scream melded with Iris's as she caught sight of the horror within the box.
Without thinking, Iris shoved the box away from her, her hands shaking. The rough movement caused the head to fall off the spike. It rolled across the white tile, leaving a sickening red trail behind it. Nausea roared, and bile threatened to climb up her esophagus.
No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop the screams that came out of her mouth. That poor animal. Only someone truly sick would do something like this. A small piece of paper floated to the ground as the box settled on the floor several feet from them.
Daisy, ever the protective friend, knelt down, her fingers trembling as they reached for the thick piece of heavy stock paper.
"Oh my, Iris..." Daisy's voice broke as she clutched the note, her brown eyes wide with fear.
Iris could only stare numbly at Daisy. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, each beat a drum of dread as she fixed her gaze on the heavy stock paper quivering in Daisy's grasp.
She reached out and took it from her. The deep red ink screamed with malice, the letters scrawled across it were a taunt that clawed at the edges of her sanity.
"You might have escaped my little gift in the alley," Iris read aloud, her voice a whisper of terror, "but no matter where you go, I will always find you. No where is safe. I'll be seeing you soon, little bunny."
The room spun around her, and for a moment, Iris was back in that darkened alley, the memory of her narrow escape etched into her mind. She had felt safe here. But this showed her safety was an illusion. Who was this? Who was powerful enough to penetrate Nash's security?
Daisy's hand closed over hers, grounding her. "Iris, look at me," she urged, her voice laced with fear and resolve. "We'll get through this. You're not alone. You have me. You have Nash. He will know what to do." She wrapped her arms around her, but she felt numb.
But even as Daisy spoke, Iris could feel the tendrils of darkness reaching for her, the sense of being hunted by an unseen predator threatened to take over. It was a game of cat and mouse, and she was painfully aware of which role she was.
She was the mouse.
And he was the cat.
Nash
Nash prowled the length of his study, irritated by the voice droning on from the speaker on his desk.
His phone buzzing incessantly this morning woke him early.
He wanted to throw the damn thing into the wall, but he held himself back.
The number was from his head of security.
Brutus guarded his vast real estate assets.
Brutus worked for him for last decade, he wouldn't call if it wasn't important.
Begrudgingly, Nash had slipped out of bed.
Taking the call downstairs to not disturb Iris.
Poor woman was exhausted, she needed her sleep, he thought with a smirk.
Brutus's voice filled the office, Nash forced himself to focus on it again. One of his properties caught fire in the wee hours of the morning. Not just any property, either.
"It's the Rosa, sir," Brutus's words were dark. Heavy.
"Shit!" Nash couldn't stop from growling down the line. Of all his properties, that one was the most protected.
It served as one of his data centers. It had top-notch security, two sets of backup generators, and a state-of-the-art air cooling system. An apocalypse could hit and that building would never know the difference. That building was the heart of his most prized business venture.
Why?
Because he always knew he was going to get his flower back.
And by investing heavily in the development of facial recognition, he managed to not only track her down, but turn it into a billion dollar enterprise.
One of the most profitable sectors at the moment was the tech field.
The servers housed in that data center were integral to the operations of his most profitable gamble yet.
Monetizing stalking.