out in the open,” Rich orders me, making sure I follow his command before beginning to gather my groceries from the trunk.
Walking up to the porch, I see a box sitting there. I know I didn’t order anything online, but I’m not sure about Killer. So, I grab the box and take it in with me. The second I’m in the house, I turn the alarm off, set the box on the counter, and rush to the room I now share with Killer. For a few minutes, I lay down across the bed and savor the smell of him as it covers me in a safety blanket. His smell alone is enough to calm me down so I can change into a pair of sweats and one of his shirts before putting everything away.
After giving myself a few minutes to restore myself, I head out to the kitchen. Rich is already putting the groceries away. I help him finish up before turning my attention toward the box.
“Gwen, do you want lunch?” he asks since we didn’t stop at the diner on the way back here.
“I should probably eat something,” I answer, seeing my name on the box.
“I’ll make it. What’s that?” he questions, gesturing toward the box with a knife.
“I don’t know. It was on the porch when I was on my way in. My names on it, but not like a shipping label or anything. It’s just written on it,” I reply to him, using my key to open the box.
Once I set the keys down on the counter, I rip the flaps of the box open. Peering over the top of the box, my stomach instantly turns. There’s blood covering the box. Or at least something red that looks as if it’s supposed to be blood. Laying in the bottom of the box rests the one thing I still have from my childhood. It’s a stuffed bear my mom got me; one of the only things she ever got me because of my sperm donor.
My bear is even covered in blood as I look down and see it’s been stabbed several times in the stomach along with the heart area of my stuffed animal. I gasp and jump back, knocking over a chair. I’m covering my mouth with a hand in an attempt not to throw up all over the kitchen floor. Rich rushes to the box and looks to see what’s inside. He looks up at me as the tears slip over my lashes and slide down my face.
“I’m callin’ this into Slim,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket.
Nodding my head, I rush to Killer’s room and grab my phone from the bed where I left it. I press the button to call Killer. He’s the only one I want to talk to right now. My hands, and entire body, are shaking uncontrollably as I wait for him to pick up. If he’ll even pick up since I’m not sure what he’s doing.
“Gwen, I was gonna call you later. Can this wait?” Killer asks, waiting for me to answer his question.
“Y-y-y-yeah,” I respond, as the tears fall faster down my throat and I wrap my arm around my middle in an attempt to stop shaking.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, his entire tone changing at my voice.
“I got a package today. It’s okay. We can talk about it later when you’re not busy,” I let him know, ready to hang up the phone while trying to keep my voice steady.
“Gwen, you’re a shit liar. Somethin’ happened, and I want to know what it is,” he says, shuffled movement in the background alerting me to his moving locations.
“A bear my mom got me when I was little is in the box. It’s covered in blood and there’s what looks like stab wounds on the bear in the stomach and heart areas,” I inform him, my voice beginning to shake once more.
“The fuck?” he shouts out. “Who sent it?”
“I don’t know. I went to the grocery store for food since you don’t know when you’re coming home. When I was almost done, I felt like I was being followed. No one followed us home from the store. Rich told me to get inside while he brought in the groceries. That’s when I found the box sitting on the porch. There’s nothing other than my name on it,” I relay the information to him. “It’s just written on it. There’s no shipping label or anything like that. So, someone dropped