Page 45 of Veiled in Brick

She shook her head. “Nah.”

I opened it. There was a single line of text typed out in black ink:

Don’t run from me, beautiful.

I read it thrice, the sentence chilling my blood as I had heard nearly the same words the night prior. The first time, my mind fogged over as if I were living in a dream. I blinked rapidly to clear it and read it a second time, feeling my breath catch in my throat. The third time, my pulse began to pound and a shockwave of horror ran through me. I could feel the ominous prickling at the base of my neck that was present yesterday as I questioned whether or not I was being watched; sense the dread that came along with my dawning of realization that someone was indeed behind me, and my panic as I struggled to escape his grasp.

I breathed, “What the fuck.”

Claire’s response was etched with concern. “Zoey, what is it?”

“I—um—” I set the note down on the table and glanced to my scraped palms, the wounds a visible reminder of the incident. I didn’t get a chance to explain my horrified expression. Another knock reached both my and Claire’s ears, this one quiet—timid, almost—and I spoke under my breath, “I’ll get it.”

I raised to the tips of my toes to look through the peephole and saw Liam nervously shifting from foot to foot. The door creaked as I opened it, and the hollow space in my chest panged as his red Converse came into my view. My eyes scanned upward, trailing across his light wash jeans. The t-shirt he wore was a deep red—it somehow enhanced the brown in his eyes, and I felt a gentle breath exhale through my nostrils at the sight of him.

“Hey,” he greeted me.

“Hey.”

Our eyes locked for what felt like too long a moment without any further words being spoken, and he cleared his throat, looking to the ground between us. He thrust both of his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

“I was just making sure you’re good.” His eyes darted behind me, no doubt catching sight of the unexpected delivery, and he let out a nervous laugh that didn’t seem altogether genuine. “Another one of these, really?”

Claire announced from behind us, “I, um—I’m gonna give you guys some privacy—”

I wanted to tell her that it was wholly unnecessary, but I didn’t have the chance to speak as I was distracted by Liam bounding his way into the apartment.

“Ah, a note this time,” he remarked with a forced humorous flair, touching the slip of paper curiously. He slid it across the tabletop and flipped it open with a deft finger. “What does your secret admirer have to—” Liam’s joking stopped immediately as he took in the words before him. His voice lowered as he asked, “Who are these from?”

I exhaled. “No idea.”

“They’re—they’re not for you,” Liam began, anxious eyes shifting to me for a brief second.

“Delivery guy said for Zoey.”

He picked up the note, reading it again as if it would uncover a hidden message. “What does this mean?”

“I can only assume.”

“Assume what?”

“That, um,” I paused, “that guy from last night.” Liam’s shoulders shook with a deep breath, and I told him quietly, “He said that before he caught up to me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His gaze was alarmed. Enraged, even. “Zoey, that’s creepy—”

“Ya think?” I replied with a scoff.

“That’s not—it’s not funny, Zo’,” he chastised me sharply. “I don’t fuckin’ like this at all—”

I chuckled sardonically as I said, “Yeah, I’m not exactly enjoying it either, Liam—”

“It’s not funny.” He reiterated his prior point with more intensity, and I clamped my mouth shut as I looked into his wide eyes. “It’s not a joke. A man stalked you in the goddamn street after you left work. Chased you. Fuckin’ yanked you to the ground before you managed to run away—and the next day, he sent these to your home. He knows where you fucking live, Zoey—”

“What?” A horrified Claire stood in the entryway to her room, staring at us with her jaw agape and her face pale. “When the fuck did that happen?”

“Last night,” I replied, meek.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

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