My Stepfather’s Prey - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading My Stepfather’s Prey, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of My Stepfather’s Prey.
I woke at dawn, my heart still pounding from last night. Hands shaking, I dialed Mom again.
This time, she actually answered.
"Evelyn?" Her voice was thick with sleep. "Do you know what time it is?"
I spilled everything about Vincent's creepy surveillance, but instead of comforting me, she brushed me off.
"Sweetheart, you're imagining things. Vincent's harmless—just overly protective. Maybe he was checking on you without wanting to disturb—"
"Mom!" My voice cracked. "He was peeping through my window! If Mrs. Evans hadn't—"
"Enough!" Her tone turned icy. "This paranoia isn't like you."
Hot tears spilled over. Hearing me sob, she sighed.
"Look... I'll talk to him. Ask him to back off. You're an adult—this lockdown will end soon anyway."
It wasn't the support I needed, but it was something.
After hanging up, my stomach growled. The kitchen felt like enemy territory, but with Mom's promised intervention, I risked it.
The fridge was practically empty—thank God for Mrs. Evans' care package. As I cooked, Vincent's door stayed shut. Maybe Mom had already called him.
I was plating the food when knocks echoed through the apartment. Vincent finally emerged, moving like a sleepwalker.
Mrs. Evans beamed from the doorway. "Come keep an old lady company?"
I shot Vincent a nervous glance. His dead-eyed headshake made my skin crawl.
"Just for a little while," Mrs. Evans told him, squeezing my trembling hand.
Her apartment smelled like lavender and loneliness. "Do you live alone?" I asked before thinking.
Her smile faltered. "Since my husband left... twenty years now."
"I'm so sorry—"
"Don't be, dear." Her wrinkled hand covered mine. "Your visits are the highlight of my week."
After that, our friendship bloomed. We'd chatter for hours, Vincent lurking in the background like a shadow. Mom's warning seemed to work—he barely left his room.
That night, thirst woke me. The water pitcher was mysteriously empty. On the coffee table, Vincent's forgotten apples glistened.
One crisp bite—
The room tilted. My limbs turned to lead.
Oh God.
The apple wasn't just sweet.
It was poisoned.
This time, she actually answered.
"Evelyn?" Her voice was thick with sleep. "Do you know what time it is?"
I spilled everything about Vincent's creepy surveillance, but instead of comforting me, she brushed me off.
"Sweetheart, you're imagining things. Vincent's harmless—just overly protective. Maybe he was checking on you without wanting to disturb—"
"Mom!" My voice cracked. "He was peeping through my window! If Mrs. Evans hadn't—"
"Enough!" Her tone turned icy. "This paranoia isn't like you."
Hot tears spilled over. Hearing me sob, she sighed.
"Look... I'll talk to him. Ask him to back off. You're an adult—this lockdown will end soon anyway."
It wasn't the support I needed, but it was something.
After hanging up, my stomach growled. The kitchen felt like enemy territory, but with Mom's promised intervention, I risked it.
The fridge was practically empty—thank God for Mrs. Evans' care package. As I cooked, Vincent's door stayed shut. Maybe Mom had already called him.
I was plating the food when knocks echoed through the apartment. Vincent finally emerged, moving like a sleepwalker.
Mrs. Evans beamed from the doorway. "Come keep an old lady company?"
I shot Vincent a nervous glance. His dead-eyed headshake made my skin crawl.
"Just for a little while," Mrs. Evans told him, squeezing my trembling hand.
Her apartment smelled like lavender and loneliness. "Do you live alone?" I asked before thinking.
Her smile faltered. "Since my husband left... twenty years now."
"I'm so sorry—"
"Don't be, dear." Her wrinkled hand covered mine. "Your visits are the highlight of my week."
After that, our friendship bloomed. We'd chatter for hours, Vincent lurking in the background like a shadow. Mom's warning seemed to work—he barely left his room.
That night, thirst woke me. The water pitcher was mysteriously empty. On the coffee table, Vincent's forgotten apples glistened.
One crisp bite—
The room tilted. My limbs turned to lead.
Oh God.
The apple wasn't just sweet.
It was poisoned.
End of My Stepfather’s Prey Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to My Stepfather’s Prey book page.