“You won’t hear any argument from me there. He really let you walk away?”
“I mean, I slammed the door in his face, so he didn’t have that much of a choice.”
Something drags me back over to the window, and I once again shove my hand into my pocket and curl my fingers around his knife.
“Something tells me you’re going to regret that.”
My lips twitch. Is it wrong that part of me really hopes I will?
And here I was thinking that Seb was the sadistic asshole.
The movement of a shadow by the treeline makes me tense.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… I—”
The need to do something, to take back control of this fucked-up situation races through me.
Turning back to her, I stand at the end of her bed.
“You know that firing range you said you had here?”
“Yeah?” Her brows pinch in confusion.
“We’re going there. Now. I’m going to teach you to shoot.”
“O-okay.” She somewhat hesitantly slides to the edge of the bed. “But not until you tell me why.”
Blowing out a breath, I push some stray strands of hair behind my ears.
“Seb—the guys, I’m sure—think that there’s someone after me. That the attack wasn’t random.”
“It wasn’t,” she states.
“Oh God, not you too.”
“He had your knife, Stella. That was not some random attack.”
“Yeah, I know. I just… I didn’t want to believe it but—” I blow out a breath, refusing to admit that they might just be right.
“My knife was in my bedroom. So for him to have it, it would mean…”
Calli pales despite probably already coming to this conclusion.
“I found something,” I whisper.
“What?”
“There was a message written on my bathroom mirror when I got out of the shower this afternoon.”
“Holy shit, Stella.” She hops up from the bed as if someone just set her ass on fire. “And you’re only just telling me this now?”
“It was probably just Seb messing around. He was the one sneaking into my bedroom in the dead of night.”
“To screw your brains out, Stel. Not to scare the living shit out of you.”
“He’s got form, though.”