Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Andrew something or other.”
“Helpful.” A rustling sounded in the background. “Found it. I took a photo of his business card. I’ll call them and—”
“Wait, I think—”
“What did the message say? Tell me word for word. They’ll want to know.”
“I really think we might be overreacting.”
“Just tell me. I’m going to write it down.”
“Fine.” Activating the strange phone again, I reread the message. “It says, you don’t know me, but I’m here. If you need a faceless friend, you have one.”
“It definitely sounds threat-like,” she gasped. “Like…I’m watching you and I’m going to kill you?”
“How on earth did you get to that conclusion?”
“Friend could be code for murder. Like he’s watching you to make sure you don’t testify against him or something.”
God, testify?
I hadn’t even thought about that.
Sitting in court, reliving what he did. Seeing him.
My entire body broke into ice and shivers.
Before I could get myself together, Lily rushed, “Get off the phone and call the cops. You should be the one to tell them about this. I’m coming round right now. I’ll be there by—”
“No, don’t.” With a trembling hand, I did my best to fight back the clawing panic attack brewing in the centre of my chest. I’d never had one before, but the creeping breathlessness, the tightness…it was either that or a heart attack. Breathing carefully through my nose, my scratchy voice almost stopped working. “D-Didn’t you say you had that promising couple having a second viewing today?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then go there. Don’t come here. I’m fine. Truly.”
I’m not strong enough to hide from you right now.
Swallowing hard, I added with a forced laugh, “I’m busy painting, so stay away, do you hear me?”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ll call you later.” I hung up before she could argue.
My pulse skittered as I traded cell phones and ran my fingers over the unfamiliar one. The message glowed on the screen, demanding an answer.
It was either Milton tormenting me, a complete coincidence, or…someone was playing a very cruel and unnecessary joke.
All my panic switched into rage.
I grew angry.
I was probably leaping to ridiculous conclusions, but I found myself typing:
Who is this? I found this phone and would like to return it to its rightful owner.
I could just imagine the rolled eyes of the police investigating my future murder. ‘Ah, yes, Sailor Rose? She replied to a message from a hitman hired to kill her, and we found her in teeny tiny pieces stuffed in a suitcase the following week.’
Swooping to my feet, I fisted the phone and trembled with the urge to throw it away.
This was a mistake.
Fumbling for the side button, I went to turn it off, but it chimed with a new message.
Stupid, idiotic curiosity had me clicking on it even while common sense screamed not to be a statistic.
The message was to you. It’s not a mistake. You’re the rightful owner.
My pulse skyrocketed.
My fingers flew over the keys.
Who are you and why did you give me a phone?
The stranger replied: So you have someone to talk to.
My heart rate grew faster and faster. Why would I need someone to talk to?
A reply appeared instantly. Just a feeling I have.
Who the hell is this? Milton? Is that you?
The phone vibrated in my hand.
Names don’t matter. But if you need to call me something, X will do.
My entire body turned to Jell-O.
X? That’s not at all terrifying or weird. Who the hell are you? Is Milton putting you up to this? What do you want?
Tears burned my eyes as I waited for a reply.
The phone chirped. Just like names don’t matter, it doesn’t matter who I am. All you need to know is, I will never hurt you. I will never threaten you or put you in danger. And no, this isn’t Milton, and no, he didn’t put me up to this. (Whoever he is.)
Oh my God, I was going to be sick. This was a prank. A sick, evil prank by a sick, evil man who thought he could torment me.
I shivered as I replied: I don’t believe you.
X: I don’t know what I can offer to give you peace of mind. Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it.
Me: Tell me why you put this phone in my mailbox. How do you know me? What else do you know? Why are you doing this?
The soft chime of a new message had me holding my breath.
X: This isn’t going like I planned. I didn’t want to be so frank, but I think…I think that might be best. Ready?
I could barely type, I shuddered so much.
Me: Tell me.
X: I saw you that night. Being hurt.
The tears burning my eyes finally broke the seal and tumbled down my cheeks. I sat down heavily. How did you see? Why do you even care?
I grabbed a tissue from the crocheted holder in the centre of the table and blew my nose. By the time I’d soaked up my tears, the phone buzzed.