Page 8 of Merciless King

* * *

London

I took an Uber home the next three nights. I used to enjoy my walk home, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe the police and Van had been right, that this feeling I had was because of the time of year, the anniversary of that nightmare. That I was suffering from serious paranoia. But I couldn’t deny the fear that was still there. It felt chillingly real to me.

My doctor had recently switched my anxiety medication. Could that be it? I sat heavily on the couch. God, was all this self-induced?

I dragged my laptop onto my lap and spent the next hour googling the drugs I’d been put on and the symptoms people experienced when they switched. I’d done it under the guidance of my doctor. Still, could it be making me feel this way?

I was starting to think I was losing my mind.

Van standing in front of his desk, looking at me like he thought the same, popped back into my head. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it the last few days. Why did it hurt so much? I barely knew the man, really. He’d saved my life, had made sure I wasn’t alone while I recovered in hospital. He’d done more than anyone would expect, especially for a total stranger.

But I thought…I’d thought there was more to it, to his attention. I’d stupidly thought I saw more when he looked into my eyes. I’d been wrong, because he’d left and he’d stayed gone.

I’d tried to fool myself that I didn’t care, but truth be told, I’d fantasized for the last two years about him, about when I’d see him again. I’d thought about a lot of other things when it came to Van King. Things that made my body ache and my skin feel hot and tight. Ridiculous things that would never come true.

It was a blow letting those fantasies go, and a whole lot harder than I’d thought.

There was a knock at the door, and I grabbed money off the side table for the pizza I’d ordered and rushed to answer it. I checked through the peephole. A youngish guy with a Pizza Heaven hat stood there holding my pizza, looking bored.

I undid the locks and he smiled at me.

I smiled back, handed him the money, and took the pizza from him. “Thanks.”

He tilted his head to the side, his smile morphing into something else, the look on his face odd. “Bet it’s been weird here without that dog of yours, huh?”

My heart seemed to pause in my chest then started to smack erratically against my ribs. “What?”

“The guy across the hall got talking when I delivered his pizza the other day. Said your dog died.”

I gripped the door handle tighter. “Um…yeah.”

He frowned. “Are you all right? You look pale.” He took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Keep the change.” I quickly shut the door and locked it.

What the hell was wrong with me? He was just trying to make small talk, hoping for a decent tip, and I’d pegged the guy as a dog killer and possible stalker within seconds. I started to shake. After dumping the pizza on the coffee table, I walked to the window and stared out. I thought I’d put it all behind me, but it was obvious now that I hadn’t. I needed help. I needed to make an appointment with Dr. Garcia, the therapist I saw regularly after my attack, preferably before I completely lost my mind.

* * *

The next day was thankfully busy. My little shop was overflowing with flowers and smelled amazing, and I had an appointment booked with Dr. Garcia for the next day. I wasn’t going to let this thing win.

I’d finished going through the overnight orders and making up the arrangements to be delivered, which hadn’t been easy with several walk-ins wanting custom orders instead of the premade arrangements I had on display. Usually that would be fine, but Erin had called in sick. I was rushed off my feet. Though, that was kind of a good thing. No time to think.

It was late afternoon by the time I sat down to eat. The small office in the back doubled as a break room, and since the store had been a jeweler’s many years ago and they’d used the room as a safe, the door was heavy steel. I used it the same way, locking up the day’s takings there each night for banking the following day.

I could still see through to the front with the door open and ate the muffin I’d picked up on the way to work. I had a small TV back here and I flicked it on, again in an effort to keep my mind occupied.

I usually avoided the news. I couldn’t handle all the horror stories reported every night, but Erin often watched it during her lunch break. I went to switch it over when I saw where the reporter in front of me stood. She was just down from my apartment building.

“The body of a young man found stabbed and dumped in the alley has been identified as Mathew Langley, an employee of Pizza Heaven.”

My pulse started to rush faster. Could it be him, the guy who was at my door last night? I sat stunned, not knowing what to do. What could I do? It was more than likely random. I mean, what else could it be?

I called the police and let them know that I was possibly the last person to see him. They took my statement and said they’d be in touch if they had any more questions.

There was no way I could finish my lunch after that, so I went back to work. There were already three new online orders since I sat down to eat. I closed down same-day delivery for the rest of the afternoon. This was more than enough for me to get done on my own before closing, and I got to work so I could catch the courier before I finished for the day.