We’re just getting ready to go trick-or-treating at my parents’ house when I get an alert on my phone that my home security system has been tripped. Opening the app, I click the video to see a man dressed in black trying to break in through the back patio door.
My dad sees the look of concern on my face and comes over to me.
“What is it?” he questions.
“My security alarm went off. I opened the app, and some guy broke into the patio. The app says they alerted the police, and a dispatch is on the way,” I explain.
Grabbing his keys off the counter, my dad says, “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
I only live about eight minutes from my parents, so when we pull up to my house five minutes later, it’s no surprise that we’ve beat the cops. Shedding my costume jacket and wig, I swing open the passenger door.
“Stay in the car, Carson. We have no idea who this guy is. He could be armed and dangerous,” my dad says, trying to pull me back in the car, but I’m already out the door. The moment I saw the camera feed, I saw red.
The culprit in my house isn’t some thief out on Halloween night or even the photographer from the accident. That photographer was far too tall and had a wider build. The man on the camera tonight had the same scrawny build as Aaron Ackerman. What he’s doing breaking into my house, I have no clue, but I’m about to find out.
Storming in through the front door, I look around the main floor open area and don’t see him, so I pause and listen to see if I can hear him. The video footage didn’t show him leaving, so I know he’s still here somewhere.
My dad comes in the house behind me, shaking his head at my actions. “You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum, but this is reckless, Carse,” he hisses.
“It’s Aaron. He’s in my house and I’ve got to know what he did to scare her away. That’s the only thing that makes sense,” I explain in a hushed voice. There’s a loud bang that comes from upstairs, and before I can think twice I’m taking the steps two at a time. He’s in our bedroom, that sick fuck doesn’t deserve to be in our space.
Turning the corner, I freeze just outside the doorway and peer my head into the room. Just as I thought, Aaron is the one standing in my room rifling through my dresser drawers. There is an unfamiliar black duffle bag on the chair in the corner of the room.
“Lying fucking whore,” I hear him mutter to himself.
Squaring myself to him, I call out, “Can I help you with something?”
Aaron spins around, his eyes full of fury.
I pretend to look surprised that it’s him, but I’m a shit actor. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re not supposed to come within a hundred yards of my home.”
“That no longer applies since Mrs. Ackerman no longer resides at this residence.”
“It’s Ms. Meyer, soon to be Mrs. Wilder, actually.”
Aaron’s face reddens in anger, and I’m starting to piece together the puzzle.
“What made you think Dakota no longer lived here?” I press.
“I watched the chaos unfold earlier this month when she left your ass, just like she did me. Don’t take it personally, you see, she’s a runner. Her daddy issues should’ve been the first of many red flags.”
My barely restrained anger radiates off of me in waves. It takes everything in me not to charge and pound him into the crest of the earth.
“I’m pretty sure you were the abusive husband that caused all the issues. Now can you tell me what the fuck you’re doing in our home?”
“It isn’t supposed to be her home. She’s supposed to be with me—she’smywife.”
“Ex-wife,” I growl. “You nearly killed her with your bare hands. You have no right to talk about her, let alone claim her as your anything.”
Aaron lets out a demented laugh that has the hair on the back of my neck rising. “Well, if I can’t have her, neither can you. That was our deal. But I see she hasn’t kept up her side of the bargain. Now I’m going to look like the asshole for keeping my word. I’m sure you understand why I need to do this. I told her there would be consequences, but she never listened, that one.”
Before I realize what he’s doing, Aaron pulls out a knife from his pocket and charges toward me.
My dad comes out of nowhere and tackles Aaron to the ground, but not before the blade of his knife grazes the right side of my stomach. Dad has Aaron restrained in the corner of the room. The sound of their heaving breaths fills the room as my vision begins to blur.
Looking down, I watch as the lower part of my costume’s white shirt slowly stains red. I’ve never done well with the sight of my own blood, so it doesn’t take long for the black dots speckling my vision to overcome my consciousness.
The final thought that pulls me under is a mirage of Dakota’s deep brown curls splayed on my chest as her emerald eyes dance with mischief.
