Page 88 of Misery

My phone rings. Oskar's name on the screen. I answer with shaking hands.

"Elfe—"

"My father's been taken and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want to?—"

"And the stalker was here. In the bar. Talking to me. He knew my name, knew everything. Has my paintings from my apartment."

Silence. Then, "What did he look like?"

I describe him.

Every detail burned into my memory.

The dark hair.

The expensive clothes.

The way he moved like violence in a tailored suit.

The silence on the other end gets heavier with each word.

"I'm coming back," Oskar says finally. "Don't move. Don't leave. Aren stays with you."

"You know who he is." Not a question. I can hear it in his voice. "You know him."

"Elfe—"

"Stop lying to me!" The scream tears from my throat. "Everyone's lying! Everyone's keeping secrets! My father's gone and a killer knows my name and you're still not telling me the truth!"

"I'll explain when I get there?—"

I hang up and throw my phone across the room.

It hits the wall, screen shattering into a spiderweb of cracks.

Aren looks terrified. "Maybe we should?—"

"What? Call someone? Who? My missing father? My lying boyfriend? The club that can't protect anyone?" I'm spiraling, know I'm spiraling, but I can't stop. "He was right here. Could have killed me. He didn't. Why didn't he?"

"I don't know?—"

"Because he's playing with me. Like a cat with a mouse. And everyone knew. Everyone knew exceptme."

I slide down the wall, knees to my chest.

The broken glass glitters in the bar light like stars, like diamonds, like all the shattered pieces of my life.

The door rattles. Someone's trying to get in.

Aren's on his feet, hand on his weapon.

"It's me." Oskar's voice. "Open the fucking door."

Aren lets him in.

I don't look up.