You Will Be Mine

by Natasha Preston

  He wrenches himself out of her grasp. "Don't touch me, bitch. Some dude in a black hoodie gave me thirty bucks to deliver it. Back off."

  I can't stop staring at the envelope. I'm petrified to find out what's inside.

  The officers take over. One pulls the guy to the side, while the other two close in on us.

  "We're leaving," one of them says, picking up the envelope with a gloved hand.

  It's thicker than the preceding notes.

  What could it be?

  The three of us follow the cops outside, one ushering the deliverer by the arm.

  Outside the bar is eerily quiet. At least the area is well lit.

  "I need to see what's in there," I say. "Please, just one look."

  He raises his eyebrow and then sighs, conceding. "One quick look." Tipping the contents into the palm of his other gloved hand, he looks up at me.

  "Oh, God," I whisper as my lungs deflate.

  There are small Polaroid pictures of me, Sienna, and Charlotte out on campus, in the coffee shop, at the library, and near our house. All candid. We had no idea someone was taking our photo. There is one, just one, of me and Chace in the editing suite. We are sitting close together, our heads almost touching. It was a completely innocent moment, but it could definitely be construed the wrong way.

  "What is wrong with Jake?" Sienna rages, glaring at the photos.

  "That's enough. I'm taking this man in for questioning and giving the envelope to evidence. My colleagues will take you home," the officer who grabbed the delivery guy says. He handcuffs the man who delivered the note as he protests his innocence. He's probably just a pawn in Jake's game.

  The officer stuffs the photos back in the envelope and hands them over for processing.

  "Thank you," I say. I know he probably shouldn't have shown us yet, but I appreciate that he did. This is our life, and we'd likely be shown it at some point anyway.

  The other officers escort us to the sidewalk toward home. "Come on, ladies. We'll take your statements at your house."

  I nod robotically and do as I'm told, but my legs feel like they're made of concrete as I walk toward home in a daze.

  20

  Sunday

  February 11

  There's a ringing in my ears that won't go away. I can't believe how much bolder Jake is getting.

  He's been following us around, taking more pictures. "How have we not seen him?" I ask, collapsing on to the couch in our living room.

  Sienna shrugs. "Maybe he's changed his appearance. He was bulking up at lot before he left from all that time in the gym. He could be double the size by now. It also isn't hard to dye your hair."

  "Maybe he's just really good at being a creep," Charlotte adds.

  Char is right. Jake's certainly proved that he's intelligent and can get around undetected.

  Neither cop joins us in the living room. Instead they both go into the kitchen to speak with the officer who's been here with Chace.

  Chace. Oh God, he doesn't know yet.

  I turn and shout for him. He's going to be livid knowing we've been followed again, I didn't get to look at the photos for long, so I'm not sure exactly when they were all taken, but they definitely weren't all taken on the same day. We had on different clothes, and they were taken in multiple locations.

  My body shudders, a bolt of ice shooting through my spine. How long has Jake been following us? I wish we knew what he wanted.

  "Chace?" I call again and get up to find him. There's no way he didn't hear me. All three officers come out of the kitchen, standing in the hallway with matching frowns.

  Oh no. "Chace!"

  I sprint up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. "Chace!" A herd of footsteps thud behind me as the rest of the house follows suit. I run to his door and shove it open without a second's hesitation.

  His room is empty.

  My heart starts to race. I step to my room and open the door. Empty.

  "Chace!" No, this cannot be happening. Not him. "Where is he? Where did he go?" I demand from the officer who was supposed to be watching out for him.

  "He's not in the bathroom either," Charlotte says.

  I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?

  "Whoa, Lylah. Don't panic," Sienna says. Her hands circle my upper arms and I stumble forward.

  "Jake has him, doesn't he? He's going to make sure I find him and--"

  "Hey!" Charlotte snaps. "Stop that. We don't know anything yet. He could have gone for a run."

  "Without security?" I turn to the officer who's failed at his job, and try to block my imagination from all the terrible things that could have happened. "Where is Chace? Where were you? You were supposed to be with him!"

  Except the officer's not listening to me because he's on his phone.

  He holds up his hand. "He's okay," he tells me, then goes back to his conversation. "Stay where you are. I'm coming." Hanging up, the officer grinds his teeth. "Chace is fine. He skipped out. I'm going to meet him now."

  My shoulders slump in relief, and I close my eyes. "Thank God he's safe."

  "Come on. Detective Lina will be here soon," the officer who opened the envelope says. "Why don't I put on the kettle and make us all some tea while we wait."

  He's the nicest officer to accompany us so far, but they change so often I can never remember their names.

  With my heart still pounding from the shock, I follow closely behind Sienna. Her presence keeps me from launching into a full-blown anxiety attack.

  I sit and put my head between my knees, my mind in overdrive.

  "Are you okay, Lylah?" Charlotte asks. Her voice is soft, like she's talking to a toddler.

  "I'll be okay," I reply, straightening. "But why would Chace leave the house alone? He knows better with Sonny and Isaac dead."

  Sienna shakes her head and folds her arms. "You'll be able to ask him soon. Right after I've punched him in the stomach for being such a massive idiot!"

  Despite the lack of humor in this situation, I laugh. "Take a number and get in line, Sienna."

  "Are they in the living room?" Detective Lina asks, bursting into the house and calling from the front hallway.

  Where is Chace?

  "Thank you," she says to one of the officers standing out there. I hear three steps, and then she's at the living room door. "Girls," Detective Lina says. "Chace is safe, with an officer, and is being escorted home." She takes the photos from the envelope. "We need to talk about these."

  "Jake's been following us for a while. Some of these aren't recent," I say. "The last time Chace and I were in the editing suite before this week was a month ago, in early January, not long after we got back from the holiday break."

  She splays the photos out on the coffee table. "When would you say the others were taken?"

  I take each one in. Chewing my lip, I try to think back to when I was wearing the outfits in the photos. It's not easy considering I can't even remember what I had for breakfast.

  Sienna leans forward, blocking my view. "It's hard to say. Most of those outfits are in the wash now. I haven't done laundry in two weeks, so I'd say between one and two weeks."

  Wow. Sienna has two dressers jam-packed full of clothes, so it doesn't surprise me that she can avoid laundry that long. Who would have thought one of the perks would be providing the police with an accurate timeline?

  Detective Lina nods. "Okay. Thank you. Do you think any of these photos were as recent as Sonny's murder?"

  "Um, possibly. I can't say for sure," I reply. The others nod in agreement.

  "Do you think Jake has been following us while we've had protection too?" Charlotte asks. If that is the case, I won't feel safe. Ever. These undercover officers are supposed to be watching for Jake. They're trained for that kind of thing...but they still haven't caught him.

  The officer arrives with a tray of tea, and Detective Lina is quiet while we get settled. The officer pours himself a drink and, instead of leaving the room, sits down. I don't want to talk
in front of him because I don't want him to think I'm questioning how he's doing his job. But in all fairness, I am questioning how he's doing his job.

  "So are you any closer to finding him?" I ask. Does he have a hit list? Does he want all of us dead? Who is he punishing? What did we do to him that was so bad? We don't deserve this.

  Detective Lina tries to reassure us, but I'm only half listening. The second I hear a key in the lock of the front door, I'm on my feet. He's home.

  Chace enters the room, smiling sheepishly. He holds up his hands. "It was stupid, I'm sorry."

  "What the hell were you thinking sneaking out?" I snap. "We were worried sick!"

  "I'm sorry, Lylah. I thought I'd be back long before you got home." His face falls. "Why are you home anyway? What happened?"

  Detective Lina launches into a lecture. "Chace, we have provided protection for a reason, so--"

  "You really don't need to say it. What I did was stupid and it won't happen again. I swear."

  She nods, satisfied that Chace is done being an idiot.

  For as much as I care for him, I'm still not convinced.

  "The girls were given these," the detective says, gesturing to the coffee table.

  A quiet expletive that I don't quite catch leaves Chace's lips.

  "You got these while you were out?" he asks us, and we nod. "Jake was there. Jesus. Why is there only one with me and none of Sonny or Isaac?"

  Maybe because they were already dead?

  I shrug. "Some guy was paid to hand the envelope to us. Jake must have been close though. How else would he know where we were?"

  "We'd only been at the bar long enough to order one round of drinks too," Sienna says. "It makes me sick to know he was following us tonight."

  Detective Lina interjects, "Please try not to let it get to you too much. I know that's a tough ask. We have every available officer on the streets trying to track the perpetrator down. He couldn't have gotten far."

  She didn't mention Jake by name. I know the police have to look at different options and that having only one suspect when there is no definitive evidence is dumb, but Jake is the only person it can be.

  I glance at Chace with hope. This could be over tonight. We'll get to be normal again.

  Or a new, different normal anyway. Without Sonny and Isaac.

  He smiles, seemingly to reassure me. But his eyes still show skepticism, which doesn't ease my worry.

  "He's been tracking us and leaving us notes this whole time, and you've still found nothing," Chace snaps. "Sorry, but that's the truth. You've got no idea where he is, meanwhile my friends are dying."

  Why can't a whole team of police officers and detectives find one man?

  "Chace, I understand your frustrations, but I can assure you we are doing everything we can. We're following every lead, and we will continue to do so until the killer is found."

  "Right. How many of us will be dead before you do that?" Chace storms out of the room before anyone can reply.

  Chace was a lot closer to Sonny and Isaac than Sienna, Charlotte, and I were. They spent a lot of time together--hanging out, playing football, going for drinks, playing video games.

  Sienna puts her hand on my shoulder. "He'll be fine, Lylah."

  "I think I should try talking to him." I've never seen Chace like this before. Worry churns away in my stomach.

  Chace often makes me feel nervous; he's the only person who has ever given me butterflies. Right now though, they are fluttering so hard I feel sick.

  I excuse myself, head up the stairs, then knock on Chace's door. He doesn't immediately answer, but the bathroom door is open, so he must be in his room. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until my lungs start to burn. How long has it been? Thirty seconds? Forty? Is he okay? Does he want to be left alone?

  "Is it you, Lylah?" Chace calls from inside.

  I suck in a massive breath in relief.

  "Yeah, it's me."

  I wait.

  One. Two. Three.

  He opens the door.

  "I'm sorry. Despite the good morning, it's been a shitty night."

  "Yeah. I get that."

  Chace steps aside so I can come in and closes the door behind me. I've been in his room hundreds of times before--we've even hung out together on his bed--but being here now feels different.

  Chace grins and tugs my hand, pulling me back to the bed, and we lie down. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and rests the side of his head against mine.

  "I'm going to have to tell Riley about what happened at the bar when I see him tomorrow," I whisper. "He's going to freak out. Are we going to be okay, Chace?"

  He sighs. "That's a pretty broad question. But yes to all of it."

  "Why did you go out on your own tonight?"

  He sighs. "No lectures. I had to get out. The house was too quiet, and I felt the loss of Sonny and Isaac. Like, really felt it for the first time since they died. As dumb as it was, I had to get some air and be alone. I don't think I'm going to be good company, so if you want to leave to chill with Sienna and Charlotte, I'll understand."

  I shake my head gently and nudge my hand over his. Chace threads his fingers through mine. "We can be bad company together. I don't want to be anywhere else."

  Chace takes a shallow breath and whispers, "Thank you."

  21

  Monday

  February 12

  I wake up feeling fuzzy. Blinking to focus my vision, it takes me a few seconds to orient myself. I fell asleep in Chace's room last night. Sitting up, I look next to me at the empty bed.

  Where did he go?

  And why does my head hurt so badly? It's probably stress.

  I check my phone. It's almost 11:00 a.m. I pad out of Chace's room and into the bathroom. I run the cold water and drink straight from the faucet. It tastes so good. Now I just need some painkillers to keep my head from splitting in two.

  I go downstairs in search of them. Chace is in the kitchen, sitting at the table with an envelope in front of him.

  What now?

  He doesn't look up, but he must have heard me. Chace reaches out and hands me the note. Jake has used letters cut from magazines again, but I barely even see the note. What I'm fixated on is the lock of long, blond hair.

  "Oh my God. Is that real hair? Wait... Is that my hair?"

  Please, please don't let it be my hair.

  Chace's head doesn't move but his eyes meet mine, distressed.

  "How did Jake get this?" I lean in to examine the lock up close, as if I'll be able to tell who it belongs to for sure.

  It's the same color as my hair, but that doesn't mean it's definitely mine. Blond is hardly a rare hair color.

  "I've called Detective Lina. She'll be here soon."

  "Why didn't she tell whoever's outside to come in? Did something happen to him?"

  Chace tilts his head and frowns. "I don't know," he says. Now I wish I hadn't said anything. "Something's wrong." Chace makes a move to take a step and my heart drops.

  "Don't go out there!" I exclaim, sidestepping in front of him and gripping his upper arms. "Chace, wait for the detective. Please. This is her job."

  "We can't do nothing."

  "Yes, we can!"

  "Lylah, Officer Benjamin Woodard is outside. He's one who sits outside our house most evenings making sure we're okay. His wife recently gave birth to their first child. If you were her, wouldn't you want someone to check on him?"

  Guilt crashes over me like a tsunami. He knew so much about this officer, and I didn't even know his name. "I'm sorry," I say. "You're right, but be careful."

  I follow him to the door. "Stay here," he orders.

  He unlocks the bolt, but I can sense his hesitation. It's like he's scared of what he'll find.

  I'm scared too.

  But our fear is nothing compared to what this officer's wife will feel if he's not okay out there.

  The sky is dark thanks to a dull, overcast sky, but there is no mistaking what we find
when we open the door. The officer's car door is wide open. From this angle, we can't see inside.

  "No," Chace whispers. He steps out into the frosty morning air and looks up and down the street. It's deserted.

  "Chace," I say, my voice breaking with fear.

  His breathing is as heavy as mine, sending short, small puffs swirling up in the cold air. "I have to look."

  I want to cling to him until the detective arrives, but Chace will do what he wants no matter what I say. "Don't touch anything."

  He shakes his head. "It wouldn't be the first dead body I've found, Lylah." His retort is sarcastic, but it makes my heart ache in the worst way. This is all wrong. We shouldn't be used to dealing with dead bodies. I pray we aren't dealing with one now.

  Chace can only take three steps before Detective Lina's car comes careening up the street, lights flashing and siren blaring. She parks in front of the open vehicle and gets out. There is another officer with her, Detective Hayes, if I remember correctly. I probably am not remembering correctly.

  My memory is horrendous. Chace knows about these people and their families, and I can't remember anyone's names besides Detective Lina and Detective Alexander and Officer Grey. I feel awful because these people are literally risking their lives to protect me and my housemates.

  Detective Lina waves us off, telling us to stay where we are.

  I'm not arguing with that, so I keep my feet planted in the doorway.

  Chace stops where he is, halfway down the path. It's so cold that my skin pebbles.

  The two cops take tentative steps toward the open car door.

  Oh no.

  My heart falls. From Detective Lina's body language and somber expression, I know Officer Benjamin is in that car. And he's dead.

  Turning around and striding toward me, Chace takes me into his arms, burying his face in my neck.

  I cling on to him and will myself to stay strong when I want to scream and cry. A police officer was killed on duty protecting me and my friends. The guilt is overpowering.

  "Inside, now," Detective Lina barks.

  That's all the confirmation we need. We follow instructions, but I want to ask a million questions.

  Is he there? Is he alive? Of course he isn't alive. Was he stabbed like the others? Does he have his heart?

  Jake is relentless. There used to be a moment of calm before the next storm, but now, one thing happens straight after another.

  The closer to Valentine's Day we get, the more he seems to be killing, and the more notes he's sending.