Lights out

I fixed Fred his plate of wet food and set it on the floor for him to devour. While the coffee brewed, I got out my favorite mug, which was soup-cup-sized and had the words “I’ve seen more dicks than a porn director” written on it. It was a birthday gift from Tanya last year, and the entire breakroom full of nurses had cackled when I opened it. Because we saw a lot of genitals.

I shuddered.

So many genitals.

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as I headed toward the refrigerator. I opened the door and went to grab my creamer but froze. There were two takeout containers in there. Hadn’t there been one last night?

I snagged the creamer and shut the door. Then I opened it again. Yup, the second container was still there.

I pinched myself, and it hurt. Okay, so this wasn’t a lucid dream. Sometime while I’d slept, someone had broken into my house and put their leftovers in my fridge.

Gee, I wonder who could have done such a dastardly thing?

Worried I was going to find a body part waiting for me inside, I removed the new container and peeked beneath the lid. No severed hand, thank fuck. Instead, I looked in on a stack of pancakes covered in fresh strawberries and homemade whipped cream. The same breakfast I ordered every Sunday from the bakery down the street.

I lifted the container and checked underneath, and there, right in the center, was the logo for the bakery.

Carefully, I placed the pancakes back inside the fridge and shut the door a final time, wondering how to feel about this latest invasion. On the one hand, the Faceless Man noticed I had no food in my house and fixed it for me. On the other hand, I’d slept straight through him doing it.

That realization was terrifying. I knew I was a heavy sleeper, but holy shit. Anyone could have broken in over the past several years with much worse intentions, and I wouldn’t have known I was in danger until it was too late.

I was suddenly way more grateful for my new security system than I had been.

Speaking of which.

I turned and went to grab my phone from my room, opening the security app as I strode back into the kitchen. There were several notifications, but they were all from cars driving past or neighbors walking by on the sidewalk. I frowned when I realized the time stamps showed a gap of several hours, stopping around noon and starting up again just twenty minutes ago – around the time I woke to the sound of a door shutting.

Goddamn it, he’d hacked my cameras.

I stomped toward the front of the house, pla

The thing was, someone had already shoveled me out. My front steps and walk were clear, my car had been brushed off, and my driveway was spotless.

My next-door neighbors, a black couple in their late 60s, were out in all their snow gear, almost done with their own storm cleanup. The husband, Clarence, saw me and waved. His wife, Wendy, noticed and waved, too, leaning her shovel against the side of their garage before ambling my way.

I stepped out onto my front porch and shut the door behind me. The wind nipped at my skin, and I tugged my robe tighter as I walked down the stairs to meet Wendy. She and Clarence had introduced themselves when I was moving in, welcoming me to the neighborhood with a homemade lasagna casserole. They had several grandchildren my age, and they’d taken one look at me that day, a young homeowner, exhausted and in way over my head with all the work this place needed, and decided to all but adopt me, helping with renovations, making sure I had at least one home-cooked meal a week, and checking on Fred when I had marathon shifts at the hospital like the one that ended earlier this morning.

Wendy tucked a loose curl into the hood of her jacket as she reached me, a sparkle in her dark eyes. She was tall, like me, and still in great shape, thanks to all the walks she and Clarence took together, paired with their bi-weekly golf games during the warmer months. Theirs was the nicest house on the block, a gorgeous two-story craftsman they’d owned for forty years. They’d mulled over downsizing recently, but neither could bring themselves to sell the house they’d raised their four girls in, and I selfishly hoped they never would.

“Lucky girl,” Wendy said. “That handsome man of yours shoveled you out.”

My pulse skyrocketed. “What did he –” I cut myself off. How strange would it seem if I asked Wendy what he looked like? “Did he say anything?”

She gri

“It’s still new,” I said by way of apology. No, they weren’t my actual relatives, but Wendy had the grandma guilt down to a fine science, and I’d lost count of how many times I’d spilled my guts to her and Clarence whenever they invited me over for di

“I don’t mean to be pushy,” she said, “but if you ask me, I say hold onto that one. Handsome as the Devil and willing to do manual labor to keep you happy?” She waved in the direction of her husband. “These men don’t come around that often, and if you don’t scoop him up, someone else will. I stole Clarence right out from beneath the nose of a woman who didn’t appreciate him like she should have.”

I gaped at her. Prim and proper Wendy had taken another woman’s man? “Uh, ma’am? You were going to tell me this story when?”

Her smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” I said.

She chuckled and shook her head at me.

We chatted for a few more minutes before the cold sent me back inside, and I left Wendy with the promise that we’d have di

I whipped my phone out of my robe pocket the second I got inside.

Have you ever heard of the word boundaries? I texted the Faceless Man.

Doesn’t sound familiar, he wrote back. Can you use it in a sentence?

Goddamn it, this wasn’t fu

Did you do any other nefarious things besides shovel and stock my fridge that I should know about? I asked. Watched me while I slept? Placed more hidden cameras?

He sent a thinking emoji. Nothing comes to mind. But you do snore real cute.

My eyes flashed wide. I do NOT snore.

Like a chipmunk with a cold. Wheeze, wheeze, siiiiigh.

Keep making fun of me, and I might stab you again. And do not say “kinky”!

Kink- uh, I mean…

You’re lucky I didn’t find some sneaky way to get my neighbors to describe you and make it easier for me to track you down.

And risk having them look at you sideways after I told them I was your beau? I knew you wouldn’t do it. Or make it easier on yourself. Don’t lie. You’re having as much fun as I am, Aly.

I shook my head. He was incorrigible. And I was having fun, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to him yet. His ego seemed big enough without me inflating it.

Thank you, by the way, I said. For breakfast and shoveling. You shouldn’t have. I mean that literally, but I’m grateful anyway.

I expected a sarcastic response, but he wrote back, I like taking care of you.

Shit. No, hormones. We’re not going to be set all aflutter when the strange man stalking us does something nice.

How are your stitches? I asked, unsure of how to respond to his loaded comment. I’d been actively avoiding the memory of stabbing and then stitching him up, but I could only suppress the healthcare worker inside me for so long. I’d done everything I could to prevent infection, but the reality was my house wasn’t a sterile environment, and the risk of something going wrong was real.

Red and itchy, he replied. And are black lines leading up my arm from the wound normal?

Oh, fuck.

No! You need to go to the ER. Now. I am not- I typed out before his next text came through, and I paused to read it.

Just kidding. It’s fine. You totally freaked out, didn’t you?

I braced my hands on the kitchen counter and leaned forward, wheezing in a breath as I fought to get my heart rate under control.

I was absolutely going to find him and figure out some way to get even. Maybe I’d break into his house and move all his furniture slightly out of place. Not enough to be super obvious, but just enough that his brain got stuck on it, knowing something was off, and he went crazy trying to figure it out. Or maybe I’d film a thirst trap in his bedroom and see how he liked it.

Ugh. Scratch that. He’d probably like it a little too much, and I was aiming for punishment, not reward.

My phone pinged again.

Aly? You still there? Or are you off somewhere plotting my demise?

How did he know me so well already?

Oh, right. The stalking.

You will never see me coming, I told him, hitting send before I noticed the double-entendre in the words.

Welp. There go my plans for you tonight, he wrote back.

I nearly choked.

How the hell was I supposed to get through the rest of the night with the thought of him getting me off taking up so much space in my brain?

Another text came through, but it was from Tyler.

Hey, Aly. I know you probably work tonight, but do you have time to swing by here first and talk to Josh? He said he’s free.

The smile that spread over my face felt maniacal. Let the first step toward finding the Faceless Man commence.

If I leave soon, yes, I responded. Does half an hour from now work for him?

It took a few minutes for Tyler to answer. He said yes. I won’t be here. Is that okay? Josh is cool.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, I told him.

K. Good luck. Here’s his number so you can text him when you get here.

He sent it through, and I saved it to my phone before thanking him.

I switched back to my text thread with the Faceless Man.

Do you feel like sharing those plans? I asked.

In answer, he sent back a zipped lip emoji followed by a knife and then a gri

Cool, cool.

It was either his turn for knife play or he was pla