Page 34 of One More Chance
I was desperately trying to recall my time with her in my previous life, scraps of memories that could have hinted she was this unhinged, when I saw my phone buzz on the counter.
I'd blocked her number. I know I did. It was one of the very first things I made sure to do when I decided to get this new life in order. I picked up my phone, saw that it was an unknown number, and answered it anyway.
Road noise, rainfall, and obscenely heavy breathing came through the other end before Angie's voice, eerie and euphoric, drawled my name out. “Leviiiii. Haven't you missed me, baby?"
I could never miss you, is what I wanted to say. But I didn't respond, didn't engage. She made her little pouting noise, the one that the Old Me had thought was so damned adorable and preceded him giving her anything she'd wanted.
After I gave her nothing but more silence, she said, "Oh… I have missed you. I have missed you so much. I'm glad I could finally see you, but you looked like a ghost, baby.”
Yeah, bitch. You fucking scared me half to death.
Angie breathed a giggle into the phone as I stayed silent. I was caught in the tight space between fear and fury, my thoughts snarling too loud to form words.
“I liked that shirt on you,” she said. “Sloane never appreciated your body the way I did. She never looked at you the way I did. You do remember that… right?” The last word was enunciated before the line clicked.
I stared at the phone, my chest tight with indignant rage. Fragments of our past arguments flashed through my mind; memories of how Angie’s entitlement oozed from shrieked demands and shouted desires. Her tantrums had always been those of a spoiled princess who'd been denied a shiny thing. That's just who she was: a bratty, vain, selfish, spoiled princess.
Or that's who she had been… in my previous life. But now? I didn't know what the hell Angie was other than goddamn creepy. She was watching me. Fuck me, she was watching Sloane.
Clutching my phone, I went into survival mode as I locked every door and window, closed all of the blinds and curtains, and turned on every outside light. The problem was, she wasn't just outside; she was squirming inside my head. I reminded myself who I was and what mattered, all that mattered in this new life was Sloane, the kids, and our future.
Eventually, the roaring waves of adrenaline settled and were replaced by unnerving ripples of nausea. I stumbled to the bathroom, gripped the edge of the sink, and stared into the mirror. My reflection lookedunfamiliar and sickly: drawn, gray, taut. My eyes were ringed with exhaustion, regret, guilt, and anxiety.
My phone rang again as the blood drained from my face. I clicked onBlockbut a few minutes later it rang again.
This wasn’t just an obsession. This was a warning. A promise. A sick game I was already losing, but I needed to win in order to protect my second chance.
Fuck this bitch. It's on.
Chapter 14
Early the next morning, I walked the perimeter of our home to double-check the gates and fencing. Rufus followed at my heels, tail wagging, unaware of the new weight I carried in my chest. I needed to ensure everything was secure and safe for all of us.
My initial instinct had been to install the most sophisticated security system a civilian could legally purchase, with full 360-degree motion sensor infrared cameras monitoring every inch of the house and surrounding lots…
But Sloane would want to know why we needed the added security, and I refused to lie to her about Angie ever again. As much as I was ashamed by the situation, as much as I wanted to handle it myself, as much as I didn't want Sloane to worry more than she already did… I refused to keep this from her. I needed to talk with her before I did anything rash.
Besides, this was Sloane's house. Me peppering it with spyware gadgets and hidden cameras without so much as consulting her was not a winning strategy for regaining her trust.
No, I had to find the right time to tell her about what happened after she returned with the kids. Then we could combat it together. As a team.
After pacing the entire property thrice and debating if it was too soon, I pulled out my phone and texted Sloane.
Hope the kids are having fun. Tell them I miss them.
I didn’t expect a reply right away but a few minutes later, her message came.
They miss you too. Violet wants your help painting her project when we get back.
Thank you for watching Rufus.
Her texts had been simple and cordial. But I read what she had woven between the words, and I clung to that frayed thread of hope as if it could save me from falling.
I threw myself into work at Master Builders for the rest of the day. While on the job site, I barked orders at my guys like a grizzled drill sergeant. Jose gave me a few wary glances, but he didn’t ask any questions. We had been a team for long enough that he knew when to push and when to let me simmer.
That night, I sat outside the rental on a rickety lawn chair that wobbled with every movement. The sky above was bleeding into indigo. It was the kind of quiet dusk that should’ve felt peaceful… but nothing inside me was quiet.
I lit a cigar I didn’t even want and thought about the house I'd built for Sloane: our home. Every inch of it had been designed with her in mind. The wide kitchen windows so she could watch the kids play. Thedeep tub because she loved long baths. The walk-in closet she never filled because she always put the kids first.
