Avery:
I was a mess.
Exhausted. Confused. Completely frazzled.
There I was, sitting alone on my couch in my pajama shorts and tank top, eating popcorn and a slice of leftover Marcos pizza—the epitome of a girl’s “single night in” dinner. I should’ve felt content, but instead, I was there, a love-sick puppy. And not just for any man—no, for a psycho, stalker, gangster. But f**k it, I couldn’t help it. He had me twisted. All I could think about was Cruz, and I hated myself for it.
I was halfway through some dumb rom-com when my phone rang. The name on the screen was "Unknown Number," which was enough to make me pause, fingers frozen over the popcorn bowl.
I stared at it for a second before picking up, trying to hide the rush of excitement. "Hello?"
And then, like it was something from
