Page 108 of Savage Keepsakes

She nods and shows me the empty cup she’s holding.

“Wow. Proud of you, grandma,” I joke.

“You’ve sure turned into an asshole, you know. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I nod in response, and JoJo grabs our mugs to bring to the counter.

As soon as we step outside, I take a deep breath, savouring the coolness of the air before getting into her car.

“But your favourite kind, right?” I sneak a look at her.

“Yeah, you’re a funny asshole. How’s the book coming along?”

I glance out into the darkness, flying by through the car window. “Good. Everything’s done. I barely have a social media following, but I think I’ll publish it before I move.”

“You should, then get started on the next idea.”

I grin. Having her believe in me is amazing.

As we pull up the driveway, the solar lights I installed on the front porch cast a faint glow, illuminating it better than before. Among the many things left undone, installing a light was one of them.

My breath catches in my chest as I see a package resting on the swing. The air around me feels thin. As fear surges through my veins, I scramble to exit the car.

“Thanks for everything, JoJo. Tomorrow I’ll make muffins and we can start packing?”

She pats my leg. “Or—hear me out—I’ll buy breakfast and you make coffee.”

I scoff at her but bid her farewell.

Once I enter the house, I bring the package to the kitchen table. Trepidation fills me. I don’t think I can handle another fucking set of eyeballs, but as I un-peel the tape, a leather notebook is revealed.

It’s almost the same design as the first one I received, and my mind immediately goes to my past stalker. There is no chance he would wait until I was completely caught off guard after all this time.

With shaky hands, I open the cover. It is loaded with notes. The writing isn’t the same as the disturbing packages, but similar.

Thumbing through all the papers, I know who this is: Billy was both the stalker and the man I’ve never stopped loving.

Realizing he killed for me and watched me fuck a dildo shaped like his dick fills me with fear and excitement.

I flip through the pages, some comprising sentence fragments and others filled with paragraphs of research for my book. Toward the end are a bunch of letters. I read the first of them:

Lucy,

I’m such a coward. Couldn’t even look you in the eyes when I broke you. I need you to know I’d rather have broken my rib cage and pulled out my beating heart to lie at your feet. You’ll understand this, eventually. I’m so sorry.

Billy

The next few pages are odd diagrams and sketches of what looks like us if we resembled badly drawn stick figures. I turn to the next letter.

Lou,

I fucking miss you. Life isn’t the same without you. I always thought I couldn’t love. Anger? Easy. Happiness? Sure, I guess. Love? Not a chance. But it turns out something is more powerful than the black sludge that coats the inside of my brain. It’s the heartache I feel with every breath I take.

I loveyou forever,

Billy

There are more pages of doodles, random research from my book. I knew what he was doing toward the end, but I never dreamed he tested out everything I was writing about. At least I know it’ll be believable in my stories.

My heart clenches as I read his words, feeling the perfect blend of our contrasting energies, the lightness of my being with his darkness.

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