A buzzer sounds off from somewhere, and we both stop.
“Someone rang your apartment’s outside bell.” Regan looks outside. “It’s the pizza guy!”
Without even a discussion, she’s out the door to grab it and then returns with the box and a black plastic bag with the wine sitting on top.
“This is why I love Uber Eats. I just say, I want a pizza and wine, and they bring it to me.”
“You are the queen of takeout apps,” I say and look for plates.
We eat and drink the wine on the floor in the living room using the coffee table while I figure out the television remote.
Needing to stretch my legs, I go to the window just as a man in a suit on the sidewalk is looking up at the building. I lower the blind and then peek between the slats.
“What?” Regan asks, coming up behind me.
“Nothing. Just a guy outside.” I visibly shake. “Suit. I thought it was Pierce. But it’s not.”
“Don’t call him.” Regan divides the last of the wine between our glasses. “That’s what he wants.”
“I won’t.” I push out the reality that Piercehasconnections.
He knows I’m back at school. He could easily find me and show up here.
“Scarlett.” Regan knocks me from that horror. “That look in your eyes bothers me.”
My throat burns looking at my phone. “Should I unblock him to see if he’s spiraling? You know? Forewarned is forearmed?”
“I hate that saying,” Regan grumbles. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see where his head is at.”
I take out my phone, and my fingers hover over the keyboard. I’m shocked to see several messages from Pierce sitting unread in our text thread.
Pierce: Get back here.
Pierce: You will regret what you’re doing.
Pierce: Come home.
Pierce: Answer me.
“Regan, I blocked him. How do I have these?”
She takes my phone, swipes here and there. “You only muted him.”
“What do I know? This is my first time being a stalking victim.” I shake my head.
I glance again at what was sent while Pierce was muted. The messages are from the last couple of days. But nothing today. I’m not sure what to make of why they stopped. Langston hates to lose. Or maybe he concluded I wasn’t anything he considered a prize.
Or maybe…
He’s gearing up for a bigger fight.
Regan reads them, and we stare at each other. My brain is already overloaded from catching up at school. I can’t think straight. She’s a first responder and a crisis counselor. I need her.
“If I keep ghosting him, he’ll tear the damn city apart looking for me,” I say. “The first stop will be the school.”
Regan exhales, resigned. “You’re right. Send one text. Something boring and vague.”
Nodding, I type, my fingers trembling like a hand might reach out from the phone and strangle me.