Gunshot

~Joan~
The next few weeks dragged by slowly, and there was no word from Aaron or Rhoda. Speaking of Rhoda, I’d sent countless messages and called more times than I cared to admit, but she never responded.
Maybe she still needed space. Still, it hurt. Rhoda was the closest thing to family I had ever since I left Boswell Child Care. She’d been there for me in ways no one else had.
And maybe that was why I was staring at my phone again, scrolling through my old chats with Aaron.
Unknown: Change that hair color.
Me: Hello to you too, Thompson.
Unknown: The hair. I mean it, kitten.
Me: Keep this up, and I might start thinking you’re obsessed with my hair.
Unknown: I am.
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the ache in my chest.
That conversation played in my head like it had just happened yesterday. I could still remember how Aaron had texted me for the first time.
I never figured out how he got my number, but he’d driven all the way to my house that night just to convince me to change my hair color. It had been ridiculous and kind of funny.
I set my phone down on the nightstand and rolled onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Where did it all go wrong? We were fine in Paris. He was happy, and I was too. Or so I thought. Maybe I’d been reading too much into everything, hoping for something that wasn’t really there.
A ping broke the silence, and I grabbed my phone without thinking, clicking on the notification.
Unknown: Don’t you think it’s time we meet, Jo?
My stomach clenched as I sat upright. Jo. None of the messages I’d been getting had ever used my name before. Whoever this was knew me.
Me: And who are you?
I barely had time to set my phone down before another message came in.
Unknown: Oh, she replies. You really want to know who I am? Meet me at the warehouse on the next street by 11. Come alone.
I stared at the screen for a long moment. My pulse quickened, a mix of fear and curiosity building in my chest. I needed answers.
This person clearly knew something about me and my family. It wouldn’t hurt to find out. At least that’s what I told myself, though the thought of stepping into the unknown sent a shiver up my spine.
I dressed in a hoodie and shorts, tucking a knife into my pocket for some semblance of security. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. By 11 p. m., I was outside, locking my door behind me.
A small voice in my head screamed at me to text Aaron. He’d know what to do. He always did. But the bigger, louder voice reminded me that he’d made it clear we were over. He didn’t want me in his life, and I needed to respect that-even if it meant walking into this alone.
The streets were quiet and unnervingly empty as I made my way to the warehouse. My footsteps echoed in the cold night air, and the more I walked, the more the ridiculousness of my decision pressed down on me.
What if there was more than one person waiting for me? Two? Three? My grip on the knife in my pocket tightened, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be enough.
When I reached the warehouse, my nerves were already a mess. The building stood before me, its windows dark and haunting. I licked my lips, trying to erase the dryness in my mouth, and stepped inside, turning on my flashlight.
“Hello?” My voice sounded too loud, bouncing off the walls.
No response. I swept the flashlight across the room, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Anyone here?” I called again. Silence. I wandered deeper into the warehouse, every instinct screaming at me to turn back, but I couldn’t. Not yet.
After what felt like an eternity, I gave up. I’d been tricked.
I turned to leave, but a shadow blocked the doorway. My heart jumped to my throat as I squinted, trying to make out the figure.
“I see you’re here,” the voice said, low and familiar.
The figure stepped forward, and my flashlight revealed a face that made my stomach drop.
“Matthew?” I whispered, the surprised in my voice was pretty obvious. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, pushing his hoodie back. “You came to meet me, after all.”
I froze, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. “You… you were the one sending those messages?”
His lips curved into a lopsided grin. Only this time, it wasn’t charming. It was terrifying.
“You’d better sit,” he said, motioning to a chair behind me.
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I’m leaving.”
I took a step forward, but he pulled a gun from his pocket, stopping me cold.
“Your stubbornness is cute sometimes,” he said, his voice calm but deadly. “But now, it’s pissing me off. Sit.”
I raised my hands slowly, sitting down as he wanted. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, trying to figure out a way out of this.
“Boswell Child Care,” he said, almost like he was amused.
I stiffened. “How do you know about that?”
“Oh, Jo,” he said, laughing softly. “We grew up there together. I thought you’d remember me. You were the only thing that kept me sane in that place, and when I saw you again at McCormick’s, you were so fucking beautiful. I thought you’d remember, but you didn’t.”
I swallowed hard. “Matthew, please. Put the gun down.”
“I gave you chances, Jo. I sent you those texts, hoping you’d come back to me. But instead, you went off with him.”
“It’s not what you think,” I stammered, feeling for the knife in my pocket.
“You had him track me down, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone darkening.
“What?” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, I-”
“I’m done talking,” he cut me off, leaning closer. His breath brushed my face as his voice dropped.
“I lost interest in you, Jo. Knowing someone else was fucking you. But I couldn’t just let go. That leaves me with no choice, to blow out your brains and fuck you while seeing life leave your eyes.”
“I heard somewhere it helps with reincarnation and when the person is eventually reborn, they’d come looking for you,” he chuckled like a maniac and I looked around.
God, I should have texted Aaron when I could. I should have fucking told someone I was coming here.
He brushed his fingers down my face before taking a step back, his eyes hardening as he pointed the gun at me. I saw the determination in those orbs.
“We would have the perfect love story when you’re back, Jo. I’ll wait. Maybe in your next life, you’ll finally see me.”
A gunshot rang out, and everything went dark.