Page 293 of Fatality

I do.

“Found my gift? You like it? Of course you do.”

Suddenly, Evren's voice fills my loft.

I jump.

There's a brief pause then a dark chuckle.

I swear, he's infuriating.

“I figured since you stabbed a man's eye for my ass with your heel—and those heels already had fucking daggers on them—I might as well buy you a real one. Now, now, troublemaker... It's made of synth alloy. Transparent, light, and impossible to break. I know you probably think I'm insane for giving you something you could use to kill me... or for turning one of your newest traumas into a gift.”

A beat.

“And you'd be right. I am fucking insane.”

“Of course you're insane!” I shout at the box as if he could somehow hear me.

“Anyway, after you finish getting your studio things done and stop touching fucking strangers, come to the garage.”

A pause.

“And don't scream at the box like a fucking hysterical bitch.”

The speaking device lets out a faint pop before exploding in a puff of smoke.

I blink at the box, once, twice.

A deep blush spreads across my entire face.

He knew I'd scream at the box. He knew exactly how I'd react without even being here.

It's embarrassing.

I hurl the dagger in pure frustration, it flies perfectly straight and buries itself in my fridge’s door. My steel fucking fridge.

My eyes widen, I walk around the counter and pull it free.

I turn it over in my hand.

Nothing.

Not a dent, not a scratch, not even a crack—it’s cool but it creeps me out.

“Okay... I'm putting you back in there.”

I walk over to the box.

Before lowering it inside, that's when I see it.

Half-buried beneath the dagger's slot sits something tiny—A little charm.

I pluck it out and my heart stops.

It's a miniature Charger. A perfect replica of the car I destroyed and fixed.

His car.