Page 22 of How to Flirt with a Hellhound
I forwarded the emails to Amy and started pacing. I ended up walking around and checking to make sure all my windows and doors were locked before heading up to my bedroom. I locked myself inside and sat on my bed, staring at the door.
I was being absurd, because he didn’t know who I was. There was no way for him to know who I was.
Fuck. Had I actually acquired a stalker?
I wrote dark romance and suspense. I was popular in my genres, but I wasn’t getting interviewed on tv or anything. I was no Stephen King, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t supposed to get a stalker. I was plain, and boring, and I ate too many potato chips and lived like a hermit. I barely even made it onto social media, letting Amy take care of most of that.
As if on cue, my phone rang.
I might’ve jumped a bit, and then giggled a little hysterically. I answered my phone.
“Toby.” Amy’s voice sounded like she was scolding me, and I put my head in my hands.
“I know,” I murmured.
“Toby, this is serious,” she pronounced.
“I know!” I stated. “I haven’t heard anything for ages!”
“Well…” Amy sort of trailed off.
Great. What the fuck didn’t I know?
“Amy,” I grumbled, “you blocked him on all my socials.”
“I did,” she stated firmly. “And when he made a new account and joined and sent you a private message, I blocked that account too.”
“Are you serious? You didn’t tell me?” I asked.
Amy sighed. “Toby, I knew you’d just worry. And it was a lot of hateful shit that you didnotneed to read. I replied and told him that your PA handled all social media and he would be blocked. I kind of figured he was just irate thatyoublocked him, and I thought if he could blame someone else he would lay off and wouldn’t blast you in reviews or anything. I know you specifically said you were worried about that. I was trying to help!”
“Did you save the message?” I asked.
Maybe we could take the emails and the social media messages to the cops, although really, I’d done enough research over time to know there wasn’t much they could do. They weren’t going to devote a detective to a few creepy emails, and everyone had their servers blocked or encrypted or whatever the fuck it was called these days, so chances of learning who the guy was from the emails were extremely slim.
Gotta love technology.
Fuck.
“I should have saved them,” Amy replied. “Honestly, I just wanted it gone before you saw it, because I knew you’d panic, and you were in the middle of edits at the time. I was trying to help!”
“Fuck,” I muttered, getting up and pacing. “I know. That was it, though? Just the one message that you replied to?”
“Well…” Amy hesitated.
“Amy!” I hissed. “I am freaking the fuck out here!”
“I know. Just… take a deep breath. Stay calm. You don’t use your real name on the internet, and the guy is just sending creepy emails. I’ll call your local police station and forward everything to them, and I’ll tell them about the social media stuff and the message I deleted. I don’t know how far we’ll get…”
“Not far,” I muttered, “but at least we’ll have documented it.”
“I think… I think he’s probably tried to rejoin a few times since then with fake accounts,” Amy said carefully.
“Amy!” I hissed again.
“I can’t be sure! I make it a policy to not let anyone who has just created an account into your groups or socials, because they end up being spammers. After I blocked him, for a few days there were a lot of requests from new accounts, but I can’t be sure. Anyway, he gave up, so I figured he moved on,” Amy defended.
“I’m freaking out,” I said, continuing to pace back and forth.
