Page 16 of Fixation
“Toooo far,” I whisper, my throat raw.
Good thing I’m not out of options, right?
My stalker is watching from somewhere in the room. Him or her. Their cameras are recording me, I’m pretty sure of that.
Over the past couple of months, something’s felt off around my home. It’s been like…like my brownstone has been violated.
I haven’t found any evidence to prove it, but…
I’ve felt it.
There are days when I’m either hot or cold in a matter of seconds. Goosebumps rake across my skin for no real reason.
Weirdly, I don’t hate it as much as I should. Haven’t hated it all this time.
They haven’t made a move to hurt me. And I’m lonely enough to…like it. Yes, I like it.
Could that be why they’re watching me? Because I’m by here by myself?
It’s not a lie. I am. Alone. And lonely.
My job is my life. Even the tasks I could easily hand off to others, I handle myself.
In addition to designing and working on custom orders, I’m very hands-on with the rest of the day-to-day operations. Marketing, finance, interviews, emails, and overseeing the small jewelry plant I have in California—I have to manage it myself. I just do.
EmersynandI, technically. But it’s still so much work.
So, I’m constantly busy and have no time to date. Truthfully, I haven’t dated anyone since prom night. Never had sex in my life.
So yeah, while a stalker should sound dangerous, I’m still here, in one piece, unharmed—cough, cough, cough.
Maybe they could save me.
I croak, “Help.”
Moving my head is a nightmare. My eyes bounce around the room, searching for invisible cameras.
“Help. I’m—if you’re watching, I’m not doing great. I fainted.”Cough.“Twice. That I know of. And my throat. It’s sore. Please. You can come in. I’ll never tell anyone you’ve been stalking me. Just help me. Please.”
The only response I get is more laughter from the plants and the painting. More dizziness. More blurred vision.
Great.
Uber, it is.
“Uber to the rescue,” my delusional self murmurs as I reach for my phone.
I snatch it off the bedside table and under the covers.
Fuck, it’s freezing.
I got this. I got this. There’s the— No, no, I didn’t mean to open my browser, dammit. Ah, yes. Uber. The app.
Help is on the way, it says.
Well, not really. It says my driver will be here in five.
Alrighty then.
