Page 20 of I Will Break You
Would you like to wake up with me sucking your collarbone or would you prefer to stay asleep? Tell me which gets you more excited. How far would you permit me to go?
I await your response with bated breath.
Xero.
TWELVE
AMETHYST
I spend the next hour with my back to the door, looking out for phantoms. The house is quiet and still, making me wonder if calling the police was a mistake. If I can’t tell what’s imagined from what’s real, then why am I involving the cops?
The doorbell rings, making me flinch. I whirl around, look through the peephole, and grimace. Officer Vayne stands on the front step, his bulk obscuring my view of his colleague. He leans in so closely that my vision fills with the bristles of his bushy mustache.
He’s the asshole who came when I found the envelope containing the threatening note, along with the disturbing photo of me being electrocuted as a child. Instead of focusing on the threat hanging over my head, he lectured me on the dangers of associating with killers. He and his intrusive questions were part of the reason I missed Xero’s execution.
With a sigh, I open the door.
“Miss Crowley, what can I do for you today?” he asks, his eyes already narrowing.
I step aside and gesture for him to enter, but he folds his arms over his gut.
“Someone’s been sending strange texts,” I say.
His gaze drops to my phone. “Another of your online trolls?”
“I told you yesterday that I don’t give out my number.”
With a grunt, he steps over the threshold, filling my senses with the scent of citrus. As Vayne lumbers into my living room, his colleague, a younger, clean-shaven man with a crewcut, walks in with an apologetic smile.
I follow the second police officer into the front room, where Vayne has already made himself comfortable on the sofa. The other one waits for permission, so I gesture for him to sit anywhere he likes.
After we’re all seated, I explain the strange messages and even bring down the burner phone and its SIM card. I’m relieved when they read through the texts, both on this handset and the other one, confirming that they weren’t a figment of my imagination.
“And was there anything under your pillow?” Vayne asks.
I nod. “A letter I wrote to Xero.”
“Bring it.”
I reach into my pocket and extract the envelope. “Aren’t you going to dust it for fingerprints?”
The two officers exchange glances, making me wonder if they’re taking my complaint seriously.
Vayne clears his throat. “Bridges will put it in an evidence bag and take it to the precinct.”
“Will I get it back?” I ask.
“At the end of the investigation. Take out the letter and let me see what it says.”
Heat blooms across my cheeks as I extract the note, but I keep my features even. Standing in front of him, I hold it at arm’s length.
“Closer.” He scoots forward, making the sofa groan.
I take a step toward him, but he continues to beckon.
Skin crawling, I inch a little closer. He sniffs the paper like a bloodhound, and his head snaps up to shoot me a glare.
I meet his gaze, daring him to ask about the scent in front of his colleague, but his gaze drops back to the letter.