I take a deep breath, trying to settle my heart rate, but it’s not working. “I had documents delivered to me by a UPS man, so I signed for it and he left. Then I got a text message from an unknown number saying how they hope I enjoy my delivery, so I messaged the number back asking who it was, and they replied with this.”

I show him the last text message I received. He tenses up immediately then gently pushes me away from him, before storming into the kitchen and grabbing the envelope.

I rush after him and put my arm on his to stop him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go to the Police, hon?”

“Nope, I’ll handle it,” he says gruffly. “I’m sick of this shit happening to us,” he grumbles under his breath, grabbing a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully opening the envelope, making sure it doesn’t get ripped. He looks inside first before pouring the contents onto the bench. A folded piece of paper and an old newspaper cutting fall out. I take a step closer to have a look with him, he reaches down and takes one of my hands in his, entwining our fingers and holding on tightly. He’s letting me know that he’s here with me, whatever we find.

He grabs a dish towel and uses it to open up the newspaper cutting. It is dated four years ago, reporting the murder of my parents and sister. A sob escapes from my mouth the moment I see the faded family photo in the clipping. The media were given that photo by the Brightlight public relations department after the murders occurred. It was plastered everywhere I went, it was like a graphic reminder of everything I had lost. Seeing the photo again now is just as hard as it was back then.

I feel Brax put his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. I wrap my hands around his waist, unable to control the tears as they start falling. I feel him reach for the note while he holds me. He curses under his breath when he reads what it says.

“W-w-what does it say?” I stutter.

All of a sudden he folds the note up and carefully puts it back inside the envelope with the newspaper clipping.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you need to see this.”

Hearing the angry tone in his voice, I lift my head up from his chest to look up at him. “Yes I do, Brax. I need to see everything.”

I feel his whole body shudder at my demand.

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“Okay, but I don’t know what it means. Maybe you will.”

I look at the letter which Brax has pulled back out and opened up on the bench. I gasp in shock as I start to read it.

“You should have died with your family.”

It’s all I manage to read before my eyes roll back and I’m suddenly swallowed up by darkness.

“Elle?”

“Elise?”

“Baby, can you hear me?” I ask, trying to rouse her.

She fainted after reading the first line of the note. What kind of sicko are we dealing with here? Obviously someone who gets their kicks from scaring innocent people half to death! This goes way past what we were expecting from Brimstone or even Evans. The threat against Elle has just reached a whole new level of danger.

Luckily, I manage to catch her before she falls to the floor and quickly carry her into our bedroom, placing her on our bed. I’m starting to worry. It has been a couple of minutes and she still hasn’t come to. I give her a light shake again and I hear her moan my name.

Thank God!

“Elle, I’m here. You fainted, sweetheart. Are you okay?” I ask, cupping her cheek and gently rubbing her hair away from her face as she slowly regains her focus.

“What happened?” she groggily asks.

“You fainted. You read the note and fainted. You had me so worried.”

“The note!” she yells, sitting up straight on the bed. She looks to me and suddenly starts shaking again.

“Baby shh, calm down.” I move her into my lap, try to placate her. She burrows into my chest, wrapping her arms around me as I stroke her back.

She looks up at me. “Who would send that?”

Her eyes are begging me for an answer which is the only thing I can’t give her right now.

“I don’t know but I’m going to damn well find out, hon. This has to stop,” I say quietly. I lie her down and crawl into bed beside her, moving in close and curling my body around hers.

We lie like that for a long time, just holding each other, Right now it is the only way to comfort her that I can think of. I feel totally helpless for the first time in my life and I hate it. I need Shay to hurry up so I can talk to him. These threats against Elle are escalating. Whoever is doing all of this obviously knows her cell number and address, and knows how not to be tracked. This means they’ve done it before, or else they’re very smart. For all I know, the f**ker could’ve been posing as the delivery man, just to get his kicks.

Where is Shay when I need him?

I’m on my way back from Boston. I sent a text to Brax with my new cell number just before I started heading home and I’ve made it about halfway back so far. I hear a text come through on the burner phone, knowing it’ll be Brax since he’s the only one with this new number. I pull over at the next rest area to see what he wants.

Brax: Another note and a newspaper article were sent to our apartment along with anonymous text. Elle was so upset she fainted.

Shay: Shit. Who would do that? Brimstone or Evans? Black Honda guy? Take your pick. What did the note say?

Brax: “You should’ve died with your family” and had a newspaper cutting of when her family died.

Shay: Shit, and she saw it?

Brax: Yup. The psycho had it delivered to our door.

Shay: She okay?

Brax: Shaken up, but better now. She just blacked out right in front me after reading it. Scared the shit out of me.

Shay: I’m about an hour away. I’ll swing by as soon as I get back. Will make calls, check movements etc.

Brax: Thanks, bro. I appreciate it.

Dammit. It can’t be a coincidence that this happens when I’m out of state. I highly doubt it. I’m starting to think that we’re being watched just as much as Elle is. It’s almost as if somebody knew I wasn’t watching the apartment today. As much as I don’t want to consider it, I’m starting to smell a rat and Brax will be, too. We’ve both had a bad feeling about this whole situation for a while, but now it seems like a real possibility that someone is double crossing us.

I start thinking about what has happened over the past few weeks. My GPS wasn’t tagged going out of state this morning. I know this because Evans’ men wouldn’t have gotten me to Boston unnoticed if it had. Brax wasn’t notified as per protocol, and now this note arrives. We haven’t even heard back whether anything could be found on the previous two notes, either.




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