Chapter 58

Chapter Fifty-Eight

PRESENT DAY

SYDNEY

For a moment, I consider making a run for it. I don't want to talk to Tom, that's for sure.

But where am I supposed to go? He's in front of the entrance to my building. Also, according to Jake, he's not a killer. So really, I should have nothing to be scared of.

Except for the fact that I turned him in to the police, and he probably knows it.

"Sydney," Tom says as he rises to his feet, "we need to talk."

My body goes rigid. "Do we?"

"You told the police that I killed a bunch of people, so yes, I think we do."

I suck in a breath. "I…I didn't…"

"Detective Jake Sousa is your ex, right?" He arches an eyebrow. "A cop named Jake? I figured that one out."

I flinch. "Fine. I told him."

His shoulders sag now that he has confirmation. "My God, Sydney. How could you think I did that?"

"I don't know." I hug my arms to my chest, and not just because it's close to freezing out here. "Maybe because you dated a girl who lived in my building who was murdered and you never bothered to tell me. How about that?"

"It…it wasn't that serious."

"You're lying. She told me it was getting serious. You told me yourself that you were at the tail end of a relationship."

"It wasn't serious," he insists. "Bonnie and I were casual. Maybe we considered taking it to the next level, but not really. It's not like you and me."

"You and me?" I burst out. "Yeah, why don't we talk about that? What's going on between you and me, anyway?"

"How can you ask me that? You're my girlfriend ."

"Am I? Then how come you only contact me on a burner phone ?"

Tom opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He doesn't have an answer for that one.

"Exactly," I say.

"Okay, fine." He shakes his head. "I'm an idiot, and I have commitment issues. Okay? But I'm working on it. Because I really, really like you, Syd. And…" his brow creases, "I don't want this to be over."

I stare at Tom, standing in the street in front of the stairs to my building. Despite everything, I'm still desperately attracted to him. And Jake has reassured me that he is not a serial killer.

But it doesn't matter. I can't continue dating Tom. I don't trust him. Maybe he didn't kill anyone, but there's something about him that's not right. He's been lying to me about too many things. I'd be an idiot to give him another chance.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I don't think—"

Before I can find the right way to tell him that we are officially breaking up, a voice squeals from behind me: "Sydney! Oh my God, Syd, is that him ? Is that Tom ?"

Oh great—it's Gretchen and Randy.

I turn around and find the two of them coming toward us, Gretchen's hand clutching Randy's arm. She's got on a white puffball hat, and Randy is wearing a black trench coat. I can't believe that after all the time I've been trying to introduce Tom to Gretchen and Randy, it's finally about to happen when we are seconds away from breaking up.

"Hi!" Gretchen chirps. "You must be Tom! I'm Gretchen, and this is my boyfriend, Randy."

I look over at Tom, wondering if he'll try to ingratiate himself with my friends in order to suck up to me. But instead, he's just standing there, frozen. He's staring at Randy, his face deathly pale.

"Hey there." Randy raises a hand. "Good to finally meet you, Tom."

Tom reaches out to hold on to the banister. He looks like he's about to be sick. "Hi," he finally manages.

"Oh my gosh," Gretchen gushes. "He's just as handsome as you said he is, Syd."

Tom is still staring at Randy. It is the strangest thing. Does he think he recognizes him from somewhere?

"Sydney." Tom tries to grab my arm, but I shake him off. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Privately ?"

I glance over at Gretchen and Randy, who are giving me curious looks. I don't want to talk to Tom privately. I'm done with him, and there's no point in drawing this out. "Actually," I say, "I'm going to go inside. It's cold out."

"Can I come in and talk to you?" Tom asks.

"I'd rather you didn't." I give him my coolest look, just in case he doesn't know where he stands. "I don't think we have anything else to say to each other."

"Sydney." He's speaking through his teeth now as he grabs my arm. "I really need to talk to you. Now ."

Despite everything else, Tom has always been a gentleman to me. But now that I'm ending things, I'm discovering a different side of him. He's never grabbed me this way. He's never refused to leave when I asked him.

But to my surprise, it's Randy who steps between us, puffing up his chest. He is much scrawnier than Tom, but several inches taller. "Sydney says she doesn't want to speak to you right now. So I think you need to leave."

Tom glares up at Randy, venom in his eyes. "This really isn't any of your concern."

"I'm making it my concern."

The two of them are staring each other down. Finally, Randy takes a menacing step forward, and Tom releases my arm. "Fine." His gaze darts between me and Randy. " Fine ."

Gretchen puts her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close for comfort as we walk up the steps to the front door. Randy lingers behind for a few moments, still in that standoff with Tom. Finally, he follows behind us. And when he closes the door to the building, Tom is still standing there, at the foot of the stairs.

"Oh, sweetie!" Gretchen cries. "What happened out there? Are you okay?"

My eyes well up with tears, but I don't want to cry in front of her and Randy. "I'm okay. I promise."

"You need to come inside with us," she says. "I insist."

She looks at Randy for confirmation, and he nods. "You shouldn't be alone in your apartment with that guy hanging around outside. Come to our place for a bit."

"I'll make dinner!" Gretchen says excitedly.

They are right. I definitely don't want to be alone right now. "Well," I say, "okay."

As Randy is unlocking the door to their first-floor apartment, my phone buzzes in my purse. A text message. I pull it out, and a message is waiting for me on the screen. It's from Tom.

You need to get out of there right now!!!

And then the next message comes in all caps:

YOU ARE IN DANGER!!!

I am genuinely sick of this overly dramatic bullshit. Bubbles appear on the screen to indicate that Tom is still typing, but I don't want to hear it. So before any more messages pop up on the screen, I block his number.

There. Now I have nothing to worry about.