Page 163 of Fame & Obsession

I’ve lived in fear of my father finding me after the media sensation over Tanna’s arrest. But after three months, the paranoia has started to fade. I guess fear of incarceration is a stronger motivating factor than I realized.

“So, someone called the tip line.”

My heart stops. “Someone always calls the tip line. It’s like crack for attention whores.” I try to sound assertive but the tremble in my voice gives me away.

“Well, the local cops followed up on this one. Pheebs, there was a murder in Maryland. A hair was left at the scene.”

“No.”

“They matched DNA. It’s him.”

“No,” I say again, praying if I say it loud enough, it’ll be true.

“Dad’s on the move, Phoebe. Michael and I are on our way back to the airport. We’re getting out of here and heading home. The police are following a trail up the Eastern seaboard. You need to get out of New York—now.”

The phone slips from my hand and bounces on the floor.

This isn’t happening.

Hands fold around me as the familiar scent of spice and sex invades my senses. But even he can’t take away the chill that’s iced my soul.

Turning around, I look up at him, the feeling of unspeakable horror washing over me.

“Phoebe, what the hell did she say? You’re white as a ghost.”

“My father’s come out of hiding,” I say, glancing sideways in the mirror and taking in my extremely pregnant reflection. My words to Julian from the hospital come floating back in a rush of fear and prophecy.

“Julian, I should know better than anyone that monsters can hide in plain sight. They hold your hand as you cross the street and then push you in front of a car when your back is turned. We can’t hide from the world living in a bubble of what ifs. Evil doesn’t have a face. It justis.”

I was wrong. Evil has a face.

And he’s coming for me.

The End