Free Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) by Unknown Page B

can’t even get the police involved because if I do . . . I’ll be buried with the flowers he planted . Oh God, the fear I had with Danny doesn’t even come close to the horror that’s coursing through me right now.
    The phone rings again, and I jump out of my skin. I’m not answering. It could be him again, wanting to terrorize me some more. I get up from the stool and pace around like a nervous animal, my heart still hammering hard against my chest. He’s tearing me apart piece by piece. I’m a nervous wreck, and it’s only the beginning. I start when I hear Tina’s voice.
    “Should I answer that for you, my dear?” Tina asks with concern.
    I nod and mouth, “Yes.”
    I blink away the tears, taking in deep breaths, releasing the tension to pacify my nerves and the uncontrollable shakiness within me.
    “Hello . . . good morning, Mr. Grayson.” A smile appears over Tina’s face.
    Relief floods through me when I hear Michael’s name from Tina’s lips.
    “Not well, I’m afraid . . . . She had a rather disturbing phone call . . . . She’s shaken up and ashen, the poor dear . . . . Just a few minutes ago . . . . Yes, sir. One moment.” Tina places her hand over the receiver. “Mr. Grayson is on the line, my dear. Are you all right to take his call?” She asks with a warm, nurturing expression over her beautiful Irish features.
    I nod. “Thank you,” I say, my voice small.
    I take a long breath before I answer. “Michael.” My voice cracks.
    “Ariana, what’s wrong? Mrs. O’Conner mentioned you received a disturbing phone call.”
    “It was him, Michael,” I choke out. “The stalker or whatever you want to call him. I . . . I . . . don’t know how he got this number,” I rush out, and I can’t stop the overwhelming tremors and my teeth from chattering.
    “Ariana, I’m on my way over, give me your cell number and disconnect the phone.”
    “Michael, you have meetings. You shouldn’t be dropping everything just because this crazed man calls me,” I rush out. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Ariana don’t be silly. I hire plenty of capable employees to oversee productions and meetings to keep me abreast. If they can’t do their jobs correctly, they’ll be fired. Now, your number, please,” he demands. His English accent sounds stronger when he’s upset.
    I give him my number, and he hangs up.
    “Ariana, would you like a cup of tea, dear?” Tina asks. Her voice alone could put a baby to sleep.
    “Yes, please. Thank you,” I say, and my mind wonders back to the alarming phone call, hearing his words repeatedly in my head .
    I flinch when Tina approaches me. “Here’s your tea dear.”
    “Thank you.” I rub my face trying to avoid the tender bump. I decide to sit outside on the patio and turn my stereo on to decompress, lick my wounds like an injured animal.
    I look around me and wonder if my grandfather is sitting next to me, telling me everything is going to be okay. My eyes begin to tear. I miss him so much. This terrace was his favorite place to relax. It always gave him a sense of peace and tranquility. I feel the same way.
    I smile at the beautiful, autumn flowers as they entertain me while dancing with the breeze. The leaves on my cherry blossoms that were once green are now painted in multiple colors, and soon to fall, leaving the dainty branches bare for the winter.
    This is my serenity, a vacation away from work, and now that may change, all because of my psychotic fan. I shudder thinking about this deranged man.
    I take a few sips of the hot, soothing tea and pull out my iPhone to skim through the calendar. An ominous thought comes to mind. I stiffen, thinking about Michael’s comment. Could Michael be right and the psycho is watching my every move? An unsettling sensation courses through me.
    Oh, no! What if he has a copy of my calendar or contacts or has tapped my phone. Oh, no, no, no, no! I can’t think about this anymore. Maybe that’s how he knew about my lunch with