Roses

Chapter 28

Zoey

Question: If I dressed to the nines when I was Adam's date to a party, which in his own words was less than a real date, when we do go out for our real date (which is in less than two hours!) do I dress even better?

For some reason, I don't want to. Don't get me wrong, I do want to look pretty. I just don't want to use fancy clothes and makeup as armor.

Not to mention I'm pretty sure I can't dress better than the way I did that night. Great, decision made.

Adam's absence made itself known to me more times than I liked in the last three days. I made good progress in my book, talked about random shit with Abraham and finally called Jack.

But deep down, Adam was the only one on my mind. I wonder if I was on his even half as many times.

He told me he went away for work. But could there be something else? Someone else? He was so fucking sure about us before he left, so it seems unlikely. But the thought refuses to leave me alone.

He's thirty eight and super successful. What if he has a new girl in every city he has to go to for work? Ugh! Just the mere thought makes me go crazy.

I shake my head and bring myself back to the task at hand: getting ready for my date. I pick out a baby pink dress I own. It has short sleeves and goes up to a few inches above the knees. Every time I wear it I feel like I'm in a musical, skipping through a small town with pebbled roads in spring.

I already took a shower so I dress myself and do my makeup. I don't do too much so I'm out of things to do pretty quickly.

I don't understand why I'm feeling so jittery about this date. Adam and I have spent our fair share of alone time, but something about this feels different.

After pacing across my bedroom for a few minutes, I decide I need to distract myself till he comes to pick me up if I don't want to have a heart attack. I rush downstairs, eager to grab my laptop and write. But as soon as I get off the last step, my feet get rooted to the floor.

The silhouette of a man outlines the window beside my door.

Is Adam early? Why didn't he just knock?

I'm about to say something when the man moves away from the window. A second later, my eyes catch a terrifying movement. The door handle turning ever so slowly.

Someone's trying to get in. No. Break in.

"Who the fuck is it?" I yell and thank all the Gods I've ever heard of from every religion for granting me this rare streak of bravery.

I'm not foolish enough to leave the door unlocked but that doesn't mean I'm not in danger. It could be someone else my father sent to kill me. Fuck, it could be the serial killer.

"You better get the hell off my property before I call 911." The man is already rushing away before the words are out of my mouth. I run to the window and peek out the curtain but I don't even see his back. He was too quick, and I'm not leaving the relative safety of my house to try and catch a look at him.

I stand with my forehead pressed to the cool glass for a good minute, as my heart rate comes down to normal.

What the fuck was that?

And even more important, what the fuck am I supposed to do right now?

I could call this in, like I threatened the fucker. But by the time they send someone to see me, Adam will be here. And I know he will be furious that I didn't call him first.