The Real(16)

“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I’m known for being a buttinski. My brother nicknamed me Miss Fix-It.”

She turned to me and nodded. “Sorry to make you wait.”

Kat seemed relaxed, but I was still crawling out of my skin. I had made so many strides for the better since Luke, but at that moment, I wanted nothing to do with being sociable. In the first few months after our breakup, I’d only felt safe around Bree or my mother, who was still in the dark about what happened.

“No problem. I think I’ll head home too. I’m going to grab a taxi. Thanks for the drinks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure you’re headed home?” She gave me a conspiratorial wink.

She assumed I was off to see Cameron, so I took the easy route. “You busted me.”

“Have fun. Before you know it, you’ll be married and fighting about who’s the worst driver.”




At home that night, after a quick promise to Mrs. Zingaro that I would be by the following morning to check on her washer, I undressed and started a hot shower. Swallowing two sleeping pills before I stepped in, I let the water run over my back and shoulders in an attempt to relax. No matter how hard I tried, I would never forget the look on Luke’s face when he came at me seconds before Michael’s fist connected with his nose. Luke had the audacity to look shocked as he spat the blood pouring from his mouth at my feet, purposely spraying me with it, and inching closer as he threatened all of us.

Before he left, he looked at me one last time and smiled with blood-laced teeth, a haunting look in his eyes. “It’s funny you think this is over.” Michael had managed to scare him off and Mrs. Zingaro had already called the police, who had shown up seconds after Luke had fled. I filed a restraining order the next morning.

Shivering in my recliner, I clutched my phone while Bree talked me down. I never heard from Luke again, but the damage was done.

“I was on edge tonight just having drinks and I hated it. When in the hell is this going to go away?”

“I don’t know. Your ex-boyfriend was a freak show, even I didn’t see it. But you have got to stop watching shows and reading books about crazy people.”

“I’m just trying to understand.”

“First of all, Luke wasn’t a serial killer. He was a borderline sociopath. And he lives in Washington now. He’s moved on to manipulate someone else. You’re safe.”

After our breakup, Bree had monitored Luke’s social media accounts. Less than a month after we’d broken up, he’d changed his status to in a relationship and latched onto someone else, claiming he was in love. I knew better. So did Bree.

“It just freaks me out. I let him into my life. I don’t understand how I will be able to do that with another man.”

“But you are dating again. It was a close call, and, yeah, it took some time, but you’re dating. And that just proves how strong you are. Cameron seems nice. You just have to learn how to trust your gut.”

“I hate this,” I whispered.

“I know. Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I have to go check on my patients.”

“Okay, thanks for calling me, again.” I was sure she could hear the guilt in my voice and answered back in true Bree fashion.

“Shut up. Keep going on your dates. It’s working. You can’t shut up about him. Don’t let one bad day ruin everything you have going. Promise me you’ll show up tomorrow.”

“I promise,” I said as unexpected butterflies surfaced at the thought of seeing Cameron.

“Now, turn off the fucking TV. Take a bath or use that birthday present I bought you.”

The present she was referring to was a sex toy called The Anaconda. No further explanation needed.

I sighed, grabbed my remote, and clicked off Mindhunter. “It’s off. And I’m never using that present. One four three.”

“Love you too.”





When I stepped off the elevator, I could see Kat pacing in her office, talking on the phone. I set down my tote and decided to make us a quick cup of coffee. It was only when I got to her office door that I realized it wasn’t a business call.

“Jefferson, I’m at work. Don’t you dare threaten to come here and make a scene. I said fine! Fine!” Kat hung up the phone and looked out of her office window. Frozen at her door, she caught my reflection in my attempt to retreat.

“Abbie, I need to get away. I need a few days off.” Kat turned to me, and it was then I saw one of her eyes was bloodshot.

Steaming mugs in hand, I walked toward her, cringing at the sight of it. “Oh my God. Kat, does it hurt?”

“My blood pressure is off. I need to relax. Is there any way you can cover for me? I know it’s a lot to ask with all that’s going on, but I need a few days. Just a few days.”

“Of course,” I offered as I set down the cups. “Take the rest of the week. Where will you go?”

She opened her desk drawer and began packing her purse. “I’ll go visit my dad, or maybe just get away. He owns a few vacation spots. One I love in Florida. Maybe I’ll get some sun.”

So, it was her father who was wealthy. I knew the woman grew up privileged. It showed in her demeanor, in the way she spoke, and in her bite.

“Kat, if you want to talk about it—”