Page 22 of The Arrangement
“Where are the kids?”
“They went out,” she whispered, sounding distracted. “Dylan’s at Micah’s, and Riley is working on a science project with Noah. Maisy went to Noelle’s…or maybe Nicole’s. I can’t remember… Oh, wait… He may have left.” She said it while expelling a sigh of relief. “I don’t see him outside anywhere…”
“Okay, but I want you to stay where you are. Don’t go looking for him. Wait until I can get there.”
“I will,” she promised. “Thank you for coming home. I’m sorry I interrupted you while you were working. I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. I just got so freaked out.”
I swallowed, trying to fight down the guilt I felt. I was supposed to be home. I should’ve been home. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m glad you called.” There was silence on the other end of the line, and I filled it by saying, “So, who is this guy?”
“His name’s Stefan. He was the one I went out with Tuesday night. He’s been contacting me quite a bit since then, and I was ignoring it. But earlier today, he called me by my real name, which I have no idea how he knows, but I thought maybe I slipped up somehow at dinner. So, I just blocked him in the app, and I thought that was the end of it. Then tonight, I heard a knock on the door and I walked over to answer it, and when I pulled it open, it was him. He didn’t try to shove his way inside or anything. He said he wanted to talk. But… I was home alone, and I have no idea how he knows where I live or what he wants. I asked him to leave, but he kept arguing that we needed to talk, so I shut the door in his face and ran over here and called you.”
Her voice was high and shaking, matching the frequency of my trembling hands on the wheel. Rage began to overtake the worry as I found myself fuming that someone was scaring my wife. That someone was bothering her. That he’d showed up at my house, where my kids live. Mostly, I was angry that I’d willingly put her in harm’s way. I needed to fix this.
“I’m so glad the kids aren’t here. I don’t know what I’d do if they were here… What have we gotten ourselves into? We’ve put them in such danger.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“I don’t know what to think. I didn’t get that vibe on our date at all. He was sweet and…and…and normal. He’s a widower, a bit older than us. He seemed, I don’t know how else to describe it… He seemed normal. And, if he wanted to hurt me, he had the perfect opportunity. So why would he wait? Why would he do it like this?”
I shook my head. She was right—none of it made sense. What did he want? “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I blurted out.
“Don’t want to do what?”
“Any of this. Seeing other people. I don’t want to lose you. There are too many crazy people out there, Ains. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. If someone ever hurt you I’d—” I swallowed, stopping myself from finishing the sentence. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say the words. I was surprised to feel tears in my own eyes at the outright fear in my chest. I was terrified of losing her. I felt vulnerable in a way I hadn’t in years. How would I go on without her if something ever happened?
She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I agree.”
“You do?” I didn’t know why it shocked me so much, but there was no denying the stupor I felt at her words.
Instead of answering, she remained quiet. I pressed on. “Ainsley?”
“He’s…still…here.” Her words came slowly, their essence barely audible. I could hardly understand her, but I knew what she’d said. I pressed the accelerator, jolting the car forward, my chest tight.
“Okay…is he in the house?”
Silence.
“Ainsley, I want you to stay on the line with me, okay? Get somewhere. Get in a room, a closet, and stay with me, okay?” I begged her to answer, to let me know she was safe, but she remained silent. I could hear her slow and haggard breathing through the line. She was still there. Still alive. I just needed to keep her that way. “I’m coming. I’m coming as fast as I can. Hang on, okay?” The smart thing to do, I knew, would be to call the police, but I couldn’t bring myself to end the call. I needed to keep her on the line. I was crying at that point—silent, helpless tears escaping my eyes and blurring my vision. I focused on the sounds of her breathing, loud over the Bluetooth system in the car, and remained silent the rest of the way.
Twenty minutes later, I turned into and drove down our long, forest-lined driveway. I’d always loved living on our own land, far away from the nearest neighbors, but at that moment, I regretted the decision.
“I’m here,” I whispered, and her breath came in the form of a sigh of relief. A beat-up red truck sat in the driveway, its engine shut off. Was he inside the truck? Would he come after me? “Can you tell me where he is?” I looked toward the front door, the porch light off, searching the shadows. It was too dark to make out if anyone was there.
“The…porch. The…bat…” At her words, I hurried to the trunk and pulled out the metal baseball bat I’d carried since college, ended the call, and walked toward the front porch. I left the trunk and car door open, taking quiet footsteps across the gravel. As I neared the porch, conscious of my too-loud breathing, I was able to make out the dark figure that awaited me. He was facing the door, and as I got closer, he knocked on it loudly.
“Ainsley,” he called. “Open the door!”
I took another step forward, the wood of the porch squeaking under my weight, and he spun around.
“Who’re you?” the cold, deep voice demanded.
“You need to leave,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. I wiggled the bat in the air, a warning to him. “I don’t know how you found out where we live, but you need to leave.”
“Not until I see Ainsley. And put that bat down before you hurt yourself.”
His words sent chills down my arms as he stepped forward, and I was able to somewhat make out his face in the moonlight. He was bald, with sharp features and a stocky build. He kept his shoulders squared to me as he moved closer, and I stepped back.
“Who are you?” I asked, keeping the bat resting on my shoulder. “What do you want with her?”