With a shake of my head, I stride into the kitchen area and pull out a box of bargain brand cornflakes. No, I can’t go down that road again. I eat half of my breakfast over the counter, hoping to stave off that niggling ache that tells me I need something more, something to dull my senses, but my appetite is shot and I dump the rest in the sink.
Why did I finally risk opening myself up just the tiniest bit? I should have kept myself locked away, like I had been doing. That had worked hadn’t it—keeping people out of my life?
Unfortunately, Hunter made me realize how pathetic my life was—is.
I flick on the coffee pot. Time to forget Hunter and move on. I’d been doing fine without him before. Maybe this is what I needed to remind myself why I’d avoided men this whole time. You can’t trust anyone, especially the male of the species. Thank goodness I didn’t get to deep and do something stupid like… like fall in love with him.
My lips tingle in remembrance as I pour the coffee. My body clenches. Eyes that changed in different lights flicker through my mind and strong hands, brooding glances and beautifully blunt compliments swarm my memory. Taking a quick sip of the scalding liquid, I grimace and throw it in the sink before grabbing my handbag and jacket.
I wish I understood why he’d vanished so suddenly. He can’t have found out, surely? I’m paranoid that someone will but I’ve covered my tracks carefully enough and given little away.
Funny how I never intended to tell him anything but he still found out more about me than anyone else. And yet I know nothing about him. I debate calling him when I get home but I really don’t want to listen to any excuses. I pause in the hallway outside my door. Should I call him? Hunter was always honest. Perhaps he might tell me the truth about why he dropped out of my life as suddenly as he’d entered it and I won’t be left wondering why. I’m not sure I can face it though.
I traipse down the stairs, avoiding touching the filthy metal railing. Downstairs, I pause at the mailboxes to pick up any letters. I don’t get much post seeing as I’m trying my best to stay ‘off grid’ but the odd college letter arrives. A pink envelope sits in my slot and I stop breathing.
I grab it and flip it over. My insides bunch when I spot the careful cursive on the front. No address, no stamp. Only my name. Bile rises in my throat and with trembling hands, I open it.
The paper is floral and scented. The smell makes me wrinkle my nose.
There’s one line of writing on it in the same handwriting. One line that scares me more than anything else could.
I know who you are.
My knees threaten to give way and I expel a sob. After all this time, someone has figured me out. Everything I’ve worked for is ruined. A person comes in the door behind me and I spin wildly, stuffing the letter into my bag. I let loose a breath when I recognize the woman as one of the occupants from the floor below. She doesn’t acknowledge me when she brushes past and grabs her mail.
The vague notion it could be Hunter strikes, but it doesn’t ring true. Whatever I foolishly believed about him might be wrong but why drop out of my life to start tormenting me?
Which means someone else knows about my past. But who? Hunter was the first person I let get close and even he never knew. A colleague from work perhaps? Or one of my old friends? Pete? I shake my head and scrumple the paper into a tiny ball. Pete and my friends wanted nothing to do with me. If they somehow found out where I’d gone, they wouldn’t resort to sneaky messages and flowers. No, they’d come right out and say it. Knowing Pete, he’d have turned up somewhere nice and public and showed everyone the real me.
Dots swim in front of my eyes and my knees really do buckle. I sink down onto the grimy tiled floor and rest my back against the mailboxes. What do I do now? I can’t afford to move again. I can’t think how someone’s figured it out. Few people knew my stage name. I mean, that was the whole point of being Trinity Sparks—to protect my identity. Only the production company and my old friends can connect them.
A young mum with a baby on her hip comes in through the front door and I jump to standing, regretting the movement when my head spins. She gives me an odd look before heading up the steps. My pulse thuds in my ears and I pull out my phone to glance at the time. I need to get to work.
Sucking in a breath, I force myself to step outside and dart a look around. I blink in the sunlight and scan the busy street. No one suspicious. No figures lurking in dark corners or people waiting to taunt me. I swipe a hand down my jeans and start walking to the bus stop. Maybe it was just some crazy person and they don’t really know anything. It’s probably my paranoia making it worse.