Page 108 of Veiled in Brick

“I’m just glad he hasn’t called you since then. Maybe you really hurt him and that’s why he had to take off—go get medical care or something.”

“Wait,” James spoke slowly, “I missed something else; when did he get your phone number? The guy called you?”

I groaned. “Yeah. He did; on our way down yesterday.”

James questioned hesitantly, “How did he—wait, Zoey, where do you keep your phone at work?”

“In the back?” I returned with an upward inflection. “Why?”

“Is the back only for employees?”

“Er—no, we have a bathroom anyone can use—”

“And you keep your phone, your purse—all your shit—where?”

I replied, “On the counter; why? What are you getting at?”

“Please tell me that your phone’s password isn’t some shit that’s easy to guess like zero-zero-zero-zero,” James demanded in a pleading tone.

“Ah…I don’t have a passw—”

I wasn’t able to finish the sentence.

“God dammit, Zoey, why the FUCK not?!” James yelled.

I flinched at the volume of his voice. “Jesus, Jay.”

James let out a ragged breath. “Zoey, if this guy’s been to your work, he could have easily gone into your phone. He’s probably tracking it.”

My stomach sank. “What?”

“Your fucking phone,” James rushed out. “He could be tracking it; how the hell else could he have found you at your parents’ house?”

“No, no-no,” I muttered a weak denial.

“Yes, yes-yes,” James argued. “He’s been watching you go in and out of your apartment from this camera we found, no doubt he’s tracking your phone, and he’s been living across the goddamn hall—”

Luke interjected, “I saw Mister Milkovich, I dunno…a few weeks ago?”

“People move places,” James said. “He probably moved out.”

“I’d like to think we would have noticed him moving out,” Luke returned.

“Oh my God,” Claire whispered. “What if he’s dead?”

From the admission of her horrid thought, all I could do was ping-pong my head between the sources of the voices around me as my chest lurched further and further.

Liam sucked in a loud breath and groaned, “I didn’t even fuckin’ think of that.”

Luke looked back at her again, his eyes wide as he exclaimed, “Claire!”

“Don’t chastise her,” James spoke. “She’s probably right, I’m not puttin’ murder past this creeper.”

“Our neighbor is not dead,” Luke announced. “Jesus, guys, we gotta pull it together.”

“Pull it together?” Claire snapped. “Zoey’s been getting stalked for who knows how long by a guy that’s attacked her twice, he tried to kidnap her out of her parents’ kitchen, he is clearly not sane.” Her voice shook in a high-pitched scream, “It is NOT that far-fetched that Mister Milkovich is fucking-DEAD, LUKE!”

Even though Claire’s voice had turned shrill, it still trailed off into nothing as the sound of an engine whining and hot tires against pavement bored into our ears. Liam’s head whipped over his shoulder, my eyes were glued on the rear-view mirror, and Luke and Claire’s gazes were both transfixed on the quickly approaching headlights behind us.

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