Unforgivable Lacerations

Chapter Sixteen

I stumbled to my truck, not paying any attention until I stopped next to my front window, confused as a piece of paper was flapping in the wind, stuck in my windscreen wipers. My mind went to the memory of Dad telling me never to leave my engine on if I was to retrieve a piece of paper from the window, as it was a common trick to steal a car. But surely nobody would want this old thing? 

Frowning, I snatched the paper and rushed into the cab, trying not to think much of it. Couldn't it have been unintentionally blown to my car, and that nobody was involved in placing it? Despite it being logical, there was no possibility of paper being so forcefully stuffed under my window wiper blades by just the wind. 

Reluctantly yet willing, hoping that it would just be absolutely nothing, I quickly opened the neatly folded paper and scanned the handwritten words.

I'm watching you, Isabella.
Your house is lovely, as is your cottage.
Would you mind if I make myself a coffee? Watch the game? 
You weren't too upset last time I visited.
I'll always be here, Isabella, watching you.

I burst into tears reading it, knowing someone was out there, trying to scare me and it was working. What had I done to be stalked? Was it the man glaring at me? But I didn't know the man from Adam! 

Out of all of this, as well, I didn't have anyone to tell, since I couldn't go to the police, in case whoever this was were a vampire. One of Victoria's friends? I wouldn't endanger anyone in this, especially for my life, and so I wouldn't say anything, but hope nothing more would come of it. "No one would care," my lips mumbled my thoughts. 

I didn't want to return to the house, therefore, thinking of the money in my bag, I drove to the hardware shop in town. Using, again, the cottage as a useful distraction, even if they knew where it was. 

The garage, kitchen, study and lounge had been plastered already, very quickly after the scaffolding had been removed- I had been surprised at the speed of the building, the windows all over the house were in place but the kitchen and bathroom still needed tiling, the floor had been replaced and the balcony would be last to finish. The piping and electrical work had been the longest to wait for, but thanks to Nicola's building team, it was quicker than usual.

My imagination had already thought of the colors for each room, sticking mostly to neutral colors of cream, beige and brown, except the bedroom where pastel blues, whites and hints of red will be featured. 

I didn't want to pay for a decorator to do a job that I could easily do, but just in more time.

I had bought many tins of paint, calculated professionally by the shop clerk when I was exiting the shop with my cart. 

 I was alert, looking crazily around the area when I felt my heart stop. He was here. The man. 

It was him, it was him. 

There he stood, leaning against the brick wall across the street, arms crossed and looking at me; his dark eyes were glaring into mine again, seeing only my fear that radiated from me loudly.  I continued to walk to my truck, my strides faster and longer.

From what the note had said, was he the man who trespassed into my home? Was he the man who turned the television on? Who was always watching me? 

I somehow kept my pace to my truck, in the opposite direction from him, not wanting to show him the effect he had on me. Without looking at him, I threw the tins of paint in my tailgate, taking forever as there was many, and climbed into the truck. 

It was him, it was him. 

My thoughts bashed inside my brain as I pressed my shaky foot onto the accelerator, in the direction of the cottage, thinking of the many scenarios that could take place. Bearing in mind the television was three months prior, had it really been a month since a particular incident happened? One that I swore to never think about again since it only brought confusion.