CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

I ran to my apartment and met the door ajar. The place was trashed in its entirety.

“What the f*ck!” The chairs were torn apart and feathers and foam were strewn across in no particular order. I ran to my room to see if it was in similar fashion. Everywhere was disorganised. I covered my nose to avoid the horrible stench wafting in.

“What the f*ck is this?” There was blood everywhere. The words man stealer were painted in red over my bathroom mirror. The whole place was in disarray.

It looked more horrible than the picture the unknown sender had forwarded to me. I picked up my phone to call the one person I would tell on a whim. Pissed at me or not, he needed to know. A movement caught the corner of my eye, sending my heart dipping to my stomach. Before I could turn to find out what or who it was, I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head.

I fell to the floor with a loud thud, my head hitting the counter top in the process. Warmth trickled through my hair down to my neck and my vision