Page 77 of Love in Pieces

“There she is.” Somehow, his smile grows even more wicked. “I’ve missed you, babydoll.”

I remain silent, hoping it will keep this whole situation a little calmer. I’ve never had much luck responding to him, especially when he’s already upset.

“Go on. Open it.” He pushes off my bike and takes a step closer.

I hesitate again but ultimately decide to listen to his command. It’s not sealed, just tucked. I don’t know what I expect to be in this envelope, but I’m a bit surprised as I pull out a handful of pictures. I look up at him, trying to keep my face neutral, trying to keep my fear from showing. But it’s too prominent to fake the pounding of my heart, the blood coursing through me at such high rates of speed, surely draining from my face.

The pictures are not good quality. Some of them are blurry, and most of them are from a distance.

Me, walking through campus.

Me and Meredith in the library.

Dallas at practice.

Me, putting gas into my bike.

Dallas bartending.

Me and Meredith sitting in the bleachers.

Me, riding on the back of Dallas’s bike.

I look up after getting back to the beginning of the stack to see Sam has taken a few more steps toward me. Far too close for comfort.

“What ... what are these?” I ask, voice shakier than I want it to be.

“What do you mean what are those? They’re pictures of you, babydoll.”

My blood boils at the nickname. “Don’t. Don’t call me that.”

“But you love it when I call you that.”

I shake my head, jaw clenched tightly. “What do you want, Sam?”

He laughs. “We’re going home.” He extends his hand, palm up.

“You expect me to just go with you? After everything? I’m finally happy, Sam. I’m not leaving.” I place my hands on my hips attempting to appear bigger though I’m not sure it’s working. The only thing I might have going for me at this point is that I’m standing on the top step.

“Happy? You’re happy now?” He lets out a breathy laugh. “This Dallas guy won't make you happy.” He takes a few more steps toward me. “You see this? See what he did to me?” He points to his face.

I notice a dull bruise on his cheek and one above his opposite brow.

“Dallas did that?” My mind flashes back to seeing his red bruised knuckles. When? How did he find Sam? I can’t tell if I’m angry that he didn’t tell me and went after him or sad that he felt the need to.

Both. I feel both.

I clench my fists, forcing the emotions into my hands rather than my face.

“Oh, yeah. Do you see who you’re living with? He’s a monster, Abby. You should be worried he’ll come after you next.” He smiles as if hypocrisy isn’t dripping off those words, oozing from his every pore.

I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially with you.” I take a small step backward. If I can get close enough to the door to get it unlocked and get in before he reaches me, I might be safe. But I don’t know how I’m going to get that damn key in the door quick enough. I’m not even sure how he got into the building in the first place. I twist the key in my palm, working it into the correct position for how I’m standing.

“Oh, you are.” His voice is stern, hard.

He steps forward again as I take a step back, heel hitting the door. I fumble with my keys before dropping them on the ground.Fuck.I take a look at where Sam is and decide I might have enough time to grab them. But as soon as I bend down, a hand latches onto my hair.

Pain sears through my scalp as I’m ripped backward down the steps. I scramble to get my footing, but Sam is moving too fast. My heels scrape on the concrete as they bounce down each step. My flip-flops pop off my feet, settling at the bottom of the short staircase.

---