Chapter 42 Forty two
Chapter 42 Forty two
Zara
I stayed on the floor with my back pressed against the door for what felt like hours after Ethan left, my knees pulled up to my chest and my face buried in my hands, my whole body shaking with the force of the fear that had been building inside me ever since I realized that someone out there wanted to destroy me. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic outside, but I could still hear Ethan's voice in my head, that quiet, gentle tone that was somehow more terrifying than if he had been screaming, those words he had said through the door like a promise or a threat or maybe both, "I am the only one who actually cares about you, Zara. You will see."
I did not know how long I sat there, minutes or hours or an entire lifetime, but eventually my phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out with shaking hands, expecting another message from Ethan or Becca or someone else who wanted to hurt me, but instead I saw Clara's name on the screen and I almost started crying again because she was the only person in the world who made me feel safe right now.
Clara: Hey, just checking in. You okay? Mia said you were alone tonight. Want me to come over?
I stared at the message for a long time, my thumb hovering over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say, trying to figure out how to put into words everything that had happened in the past hour without sounding like I was losing my mind. In the end, I typed something short and desperate.
Me: Ethan showed up at my door. He knows about the letter. He would not leave. He is definitely working with Becca. I am scared, Clara. I am so fucking scared.
Clara's response came within seconds.
Clara: I am coming over right now. Do not open the door for anyone except me. I will be there in twenty minutes.
I wanted to tell her not to bother, wanted to tell her I was fine, wanted to pretend like I could handle this on my own like I had been pretending for weeks, but the truth was that I was not fine, I had not been fine for a long time, and I needed someone to sit with me in the dark and remind me that I was not alone even when it felt like the whole world was closing in around me.
So I typed back: Okay. Hurry.
And then I sat on the floor and waited for my best friend to come save me.
Clara arrived in exactly nineteen minutes, which meant she had probably broken every speed limit between her apartment and mine, and when I opened the door she pulled me into a hug so tight that I could barely breathe, I stood there in her arms with my face pressed against her shoulder and my whole body shaking with the effort of not falling apart.
"I am here," she said, her voice fierce and calm against my hair, her arms wrapped around me like she was trying to shield me from the entire world. "I am here, Zara. You are safe. I am not going anywhere."
I wanted to believe her, wanted to let her words wrap around me like a blanket and keep me safe and protected from everything that was waiting outside these walls, but the fear was still there and I could not shake the feeling that no matter how many doors I locked and no matter how many friends I called, someone was still out there watching and waiting and planning their next move.
"I am sorry," I said, pulling back and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together even though every part of me felt like it was falling apart. "I am sorry you had to come all the way over here because I cannot handle my own problems. I am sorry I am such a mess. I am sorry..."
"Do not." Clara grabbed my shoulders and looked me right in the eyes, her grip firm, her expression fierce in a way I had never seen before. "Do not apologize for being scared, Zara. Do not apologize for needing help. You are not a burden and you are not a mess and you are not any of the things your father called you or Ethan implied or Becca is trying to make you believe. You are my best friend, and I love you, and I am going to help you get through this whether you like it or not."
I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out except a choked sob, and then I was crying again, loud and uncontrollable, and Clara was holding me again, I did not know how long we stood there in the doorway of my apartment with the door open.
"Okay," Clara said when my sobs had subsided into hiccups and shaky breaths. "Okay. Let us go sit down, and you are going to tell me exactly what happened, and then we are going to figure out what to do next."
I nodded and let her guide me to the couch, let her wrap a blanket around my shoulders and press a glass of water into my hands, let her sit next to me with her knees touching mine and her eyes fixed on my face.
"Start from the beginning," she said. "Ethan showed up at your door. What did he say?"
I took a shaky breath and told her everything, the knock on the door, the conversation through the wood, the way he had known about the letter sent to my father even though no one was supposed to know about it except my father and me and whoever had sent it in the first place. I told her about the way his voice had moved from concerned to cold to something that sounded almost like a threat, the way he had said "I am the only one who actually cares about you, Zara. You will see" and then walked away like he knew he would be back, like he was not done with me yet.
"He is lying," Clara said when I finished, her jaw tight and her eyes hard. "He says he cares about you, but he does not care about you, Zara. He cares about owning you. He cares about possessing you. He cares about the idea of you, not the actual person you are and that is not love, that is obsession, and obsession is dangerous because obsessed people do not stop, they do not give up, they do not walk away just because you ask them to."
I knew she was right, knew she was saying exactly what I needed to hear, but knowing something in your head and believing it in your heart were two different things, my heart was currently full of fear and the lingering echo of Ethan's voice telling me that everyone else would abandon me eventually, that he would be the only one left standing at the end.
"What do I do?" I asked, my voice small and raw, nothing like the bratty, confident girl I used to be. "What do I do, Clara? I cannot keep living like this, jumping every time I hear a noise, checking over my shoulder every time I walk across campus, wondering if someone is out there watching me and waiting for the right moment to strike. I am so tired of being scared."
Clara was quiet for a long moment, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together, then she reached over and took my hand in hers and squeezed it tight.
"You are not going to like what I am about to say," she said, and her voice was careful and gentle and full of the kind of love that only comes from years of friendship and shared secrets and knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back. "But I think you need to call Darren. I think you need to tell him what happened tonight and let him help you, because you cannot do this alone, Zara, and you should not have to."
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell her that I did not want to bother him, that he had his own problems to deal with, that I had already burdened him with enough of my drama, but the words died in my throat because she was right, she was always right, the truth was that I wanted to call him, I needed to call him, I needed to hear his voice and feel his arms around me and let him remind me that I was not alone even when it felt like the whole world was against me.
"Okay," I said, my voice was barely a whisper, but Clara heard it, and she nodded and squeezed my hand one more time before letting go.
"Okay. Call him. I will wait until he gets here, and then I will give you two some privacy."
I called Darren with shaking hands, and he picked up on the second ring, his voice rough with concern, he must have heard something in my breathing, something in the way I spoke that told him I was not okay.
"Zara? What is wrong? Are you okay?"
"I need you," I said, and I had not meant to say it like that, had not meant to sound so desperate and broken, but the words came out anyway and I could not take them back. "Ethan showed up at my door. He said things, Darren, creepy things, and I am scared, I am so fucking scared, and I need you to come over, please, I need you to come over right now."
"I am on my way," he said, there was no hesitation in his voice.
"I will be there in thirty minutes. Do not open the door for anyone. If Ethan comes back, call the police, and then call me. I am coming, Zara. I am coming."
He hung up before I could say anything else, and I sat there with my phone pressed against my chest and Clara's hand on my back.
"He is coming," I said, and Clara smiled, the first real smile I had seen from her all night.
"Good," she said. "Now we wait."
Darren arrived in twenty-seven minutes, when I opened the door he pulled me into his arms without saying a word.
"I am okay," I said, it was almost true, because being in his arms made me feel safer than I had felt in days, made me feel like maybe I could survive this after all. "I am okay now that you are here."
Clara appeared behind me, her bag already slung over her shoulder, she gave Darren a long, assessing look.
"I am going to head out," she said, squeezing my hand one last time. "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I mean it."
"I know," I said. "Thank you, Clara. For everything."
She kissed my cheek and walked out the door, then it was just the two of us.
"Come here," he said, he led me to the couch and sat down, pulling me onto his lap so I was curled against his chest with my head tucked under his chin and his arms wrapped around me like a shield. "Tell me what happened."
I told him about Ethan showing up at my door and the conversation through the wood, the way his voice had changed from concerned to something that sounded almost like a threat. I told him about the things Ethan had said, the way he had promised to always be there, the way he had made me feel like I was being hunted even in my own home.
"And he said he knew about the letter," I said, my voice muffled against Darren's chest. "He said people talk, but I do not believe him. I think Becca told him. I know they are working together, and I think they are going to keep coming after us until they get what they want."
Darren was quiet for a long moment, his hand stroking my back in slow circles, I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the barely leashed anger that he was trying so hard to control for my sake.
"Let me handle it," he said finally. "I am going to talk to Ethan and I am going to make it very clear that if they come near you again, they will regret it."
"How?" I asked, pulling back to look at him. "How are you going to make him regret it?"
He met my eyes, there was something in his gaze that I had never seen before, something dangerous that made me shiver even though I knew it was not directed at me. "I have resources they do not have," he said. "And I am not afraid to use them."
I wanted to ask more, wanted to know exactly what he was planning, but I was so tired, so fucking tired, the warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heartbeat was making it hard to stay awake.
"Stay with me tonight," I whispered, it was not a question.
"I am not going anywhere," he said and kissed my forehead and for the first time in days, I felt like maybe I could breathe.