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Today’s my 24th birthday. As I blew out my candles, I wished for a boyfriend… Amazon Prime just delivered him.
Today is my 24th birthday, and for some reason, I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Some of you who are older than me are probably looking at your screens and smirking at my “young adult angst,” or my “almost 25 which is halfway to THIRTY” crisis. But I really don’t know how to feel? On one hand, I’ve never felt so youthful. So full of life. So full of endless opportunities. But on the other hand… I feel like I’ve missed the boat.
When my alarm clock screamed at me at exactly 6:30 AM, I angrily smacked it and then turned to look at the empty side of my bed. My arm jutted out, fingertips running over the cool fabric of a spot I thought would be filled by now. My friends are all married, and despite being happy for them, I couldn’t help but think about how the only thing I slept next to last night was the sock I’ve been looking for since last week.
I yanked it free from the tangled covers and tossed it onto my nightstand, but I didn't make any motion to wrench myself out of bed just yet. Instead, I found my eyes roaming back over to that empty spot next to me, the pillows still perfectly upright. They made me sick. I snatched them up and threw them across my room. I think it’s safe to say that my first day being a 24 year old had already elicited a medley of feelings.
When my phone dinged, I turned around and grabbed it, my eyes nearly rolling all the way into the back of my head when I realized who it was. My ex.
*“Hey, thinking about you today. Happy Birthday. I miss you.”*
***“I bet you do,”*** I wanted to type back, but I refrained.
Instead, I deleted his message and finally decided to block his number. It has been three months since the break up, and I’m totally over it now. I’ve deleted all of our pictures and burned the painting he had made of us for Valentine’s Day. It didn’t make me feel any better, but I couldn't stand to look at it any longer.
*Ding*
As I peered down at my phone again, I swiped up and smiled this time. Heather.
*“Happy Birthday gorgeous! You got any plans tonight?”*
*“No, but I think I’m gonna do a rain check on whatever you’ve got up your sleeve.”*
She instantly responded, my smile widening. She was insufferable.
*“Come on, it’s your birthday! You got a secret coffee date or something instead? ;)”*
I laughed and quickly typed back. “I wish!”
*“So… I was thinking we could celebrate your birthday tonight with tacos and margs? Our usual spot? Amelia and Jolie will be there too!”*
I mulled the thought over in my head for a second before I decided. I rain checked on the last invite too, but in all honesty, I just haven’t felt like myself lately. Depression was a heck of a mood killer these past few weeks, and it was really starting to take a toll on my social life. Maybe I just needed to get out.
*“Sure, that sounds great! Hey, I really appreciate ya for not giving up on me and dragging me out of my slumps. You’re a gem.”*
Heather’s only response back was a few white hearts, and then… Something that really piqued my attention.
*“Look at these cool birthday candles I bought off of Etsy! I know how you like creepy/weird things, so I figured you would get a kick out of ‘em! I’ll put them on your birthday cake tonight, and who knows, maybe they’ll work! ;)”*
As my fingers zoomed in on the picture, I studied it with mild amusement. It was a small wooden box with the words, **“Wishing Candles”** printed across the front of it in thick, black ink. The edges of the box were slightly worn and splintered, but nestled inside were twelve black candles. Just below the wording on the front was something written a little smaller in red. I zoomed in as close as I could, my eyes straining to read the lettering.
“Good for ONE wish. ***Caution:*** Do NOT tell anyone what you wished for. All wishes are between the wisher, and the wisher only. Should you break this rule… The wish will go sour.”
I giggled and typed back.
*“This looks like some silly little gimmick, but it’s cute. Thank you!”*
On the drive to work that morning, I flipped through multiple radio stations until I came to a stop at a redlight. I huffed and finally decided on switching it off. Nothing good was on the radio this morning, and the last thing I wanted to listen to was another commercial about “Fantasies Lingerie.” As my eyes wandered over to the time, it glared back at me disapprovingly. 7:50 AM.
I cursed under my breath for staying in bed those extra five minutes, and leaned back in my seat, throwing the sun visor down so I wasn’t blinded by the early morning sun. As I waited for the light to change, my eyes wandered over to the gym across the street. A man and a woman were walking out.
I watched as she giggled, her perfectly blonde ponytail bouncing to and fro as she playfully punched the man on the shoulder. He looked like a giant compared to her, his tank top straining across the expanse of his chest, and his biceps big enough that a blind person could see them from a mile away. His hair was shortly cropped and his teeth screamed Hollywood white. I rolled my eyes when he snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, slapping the girl on her *extremely* well toned butt. It took all I’ve got not to roll down my window and scream at them to get a room, jealousy creeping up on me again.
Instead, I was met with a honk. The light was greener than I’ve ever seen it, and I’d been gawking at this perfectly happy couple like a bitter divorcee. I ran a hand over my face and blew out a breath as I pressed down on the accelerator. The man behind me yelled a slur of obscenities and flipped me off as his souped up, hillbilly monster truck maneuvered around me and zoomed off. There was a decal on the back of his truck in big, red, block lettering: ***“BIG NASTY.”***
“He’s *definitely* compensating for *something*,” I muttered under my breath.
When I finally arrived at work, the rest of my day didn't go much better. I was drowning in reports, none of my pens worked, and the coworker who bothers me from time to time decided that TODAY was the day to come tell me about his *newest*, *most* stupid, *completely* idiodic realization.
“Hannah, you’ve got to hear this one. I promise you, it’s well worth your time.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, way too chipper for my brain to comprehend at that moment.
“I’m *sure* it is…” I mumbled, sarcasm oozing from my voice as I tried to look anywhere but directly at him.
“What was that?” he asked, completely oblivious.
“Oh, nothing!” I smiled and waved him on, telling him to continue.
“So, do you know that crickets are…”
As Damien droned on about crickets, I couldn’t help but think about his poor wife. How many random facts did she listen to in a day? But then it hit me… Even *DAMIEN* was married. Somewhere out there was a woman who loved Damien and his stupid fun facts. Even *he* had someone to sleep next to at night… And when they laid in bed and he told her a fun fact about milkshakes, or antique cars, or CRICKETS, she probably melted in his hands like putty and begged for-
“Hannah?”
“Oh, yes! Sorry, I got lost in thought there for a second.” My hand came up to scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. “What were you saying?”
“I was just saying that it’s 5:00! You should probably be getting out of here and celebrating your birthday or something, right?”
My eyes flew to the little clock ticking away on my desk. Had he really been talking to me for a whole twenty minutes? “Right! Yes!” I exclaimed, quickly gathering my belongings and nearly twisting my ankle in the process, the tip of my red heel accidentally getting wedged beneath my swivel chair.
When I finally made it to the restaurant, hurriedly zipping to the back corner booth that we usually sit at, I was swarmed with a cacophony of, “Happy Birthday Hannah’s” and lots of excited hugs. The night started off with multiple baskets of chips and endless bowls of salsa and queso. Amelia settled on a non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri while Jolie, Heather and I enjoyed a margarita. Once the tacos came out, we started to talk about our jobs and our weekend plans… And then the topic I’d been dreading all night.
“So-” Amelia started with a grin, golden strands of hair nearly toppling into her tacos as she excitedly leaned forward. “How’s your love life lately? Have you been seeing anyone?”
My smile instantly dimmed, but I swallowed back my disappointment. “Not recently. I gave a guy my number the other day and-”
“Did he call?!” Jolie blurted out, her eyes lighting up as she quirked a freckled brow.
All three girls were now sitting on the edge of their seats.
“His *girlfriend* did…”
All three of them gasped. “No! No way!”
“I got two phone calls that I didn’t answer because I was busy. But then I noticed that he left me a text about wanting me to give him a call when I had the time. When I called back though, he didn’t answer and it went to voicemail…”
Heather smirked, already knowing how this was going to end. “*Her* voicemail, right?”
“Yeah, she must have found the number and decided to call it, but I had no idea he even had a girlfriend.” I shrugged and picked at my last taco.
Amelia’s lips tugged up into a sympathetic smile before she said, “Don’t you wish it was possible to just order the perfect boyfriend? Have him shipped straight to your door like Amazon Prime!”
Ironically, Amelia’s husband was the *perfect* example of a man who looked like he was shipped straight to her door, but regardless, I knew her comment came from a good place, so I appreciated the sentiment.
Jolie, on the other hand, simply rolled her eyes and slumped back in her seat. Unlike Heather and Amelia, she was single too, so she knew exactly what I was dealing with. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my boyfriend boxes have all been shipped by freaking FedEx,” she scoffed and then continued, “They’re always dented, damaged, and useless by the time I open 'em up.” A round of laughter burst out before Jolie patted me on the shoulder. “You know what? His loss. That guy sounds like he was a steaming pile of-”
“Oh, they’re bringing out your cake! Look!” Heather interrupted, clapping her hands excitedly as the small, 6 inch cake was set in the middle of the table. I smiled when I realized what kind it was. Carrot cake, my favorite.
When all three of them broke out into an obnoxiously loud version of “Happy Birthday,” I nearly slid under the table, but instead, I found myself laughing at the horribly sung rendition before Heather slapped the tabletop and held up a hand.
“Wait! The candles! I almost forgot!” As she scavenged through her purse, we all waited patiently before she finally yanked them free and slid them out of the box. Jolie and Amelia helped her position all twelve of them on the cake before the waiter lit them, and then trailed back off towards the kitchen.
With a wink, Heather glanced at me and said, “Make a wish!”
A large part of me thought it was silly, but a small part of me whispered, *“If there’s even an inkling of a chance that these candles work, maybe I should make it worthwhile?”* And so I did. With a large inhale of breath, I slowly closed my eyes, blew out the candles and made my wish, the words echoing in my mind.
*“If these candles really do work… Please send me a boyfriend. Someone who is loving and kind. Someone who is loyal. Someone who is… My other half.”*
When I finally got home that night, I kicked off my heels and untucked my blouse. I was bordering on drunk after those shots I had at the bar after dinner, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and crash. After changing into my pj’s and passing out, I didn’t think much about the wish until I heard my doorbell ring.
I rubbed my eyes and peered over at my alarm clock. 11:11 stared back at me. *Who in the world was at my door at this time of night?* As I crept out of bed, I slid down one of the blinds and peeked out. My brows furrowed when I noticed an Amazon truck parked out in my driveway. Heck, I knew Amazon was dedicated, but this was some next level stuff.
I grabbed my robe off the back of the bathroom door, then wrapped it around myself and slowly tugged open my front door, a curious look plastered to my face when I noticed the very large box standing upright before me.
“Hi! I’m so sorry for the late delivery. This was ordered with same day shipping and we almost missed it!” He laughed awkwardly and then paused, handing me a clipboard before pointing to the dotted line. “Are you Hannah Hoffman?”
With a nod, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and quickly signed the line below.
“Do you need any help bringing this inside? The box is fairly heavy.”
I eyed the man for a second, somewhat warily before I said, “That’s alright. I think I can take it from here. Thanks.”
With a salute, he headed back to his truck and backed out of my drive. When I made an attempt to drag the box into the house though, I struggled. It was *a lot* heavier than I thought. Suddenly, I was second guessing not asking for help. When I finally had it in my living room, I stared up at it for a second, confused and curious.
This box had to be at least six feet tall, and I hadn’t ordered anything, let alone something *this* big. Perhaps it was a birthday gift from one of the girls? But in my sleep-deprived state, I couldn’t care less. I was way too tired to even deal with this right now, so I decided to just open it in the morning and head back to bed.
When my alarm clock went off at its usual time, I awoke with a start, something warm and solid pressing into my back. I instantly froze. A large hand slid out from behind me and silenced my alarm before wrapping itself around my waist.
“Good morning,” the voice whispered, deep and gravelly from sleep as lips pressed against the side of my head.
A sharp breath left my mouth as my heart pounded out of my chest. “Who a-are you?” I asked, my voice falling from trembling lips.
A deep chuckle left his mouth, warm and dark. “You don’t remember?”
Turning to face him, I paled, the realization dawning on me. This was *exactly* what I’d imagined when I made that wish last night. Dark hair, sharp features and cool blue eyes. Eyes that were studying me quite intently with a mischievous little gleam. I watched as his lips slowly tugged up into a smirk.
“Listen,” I started, trying to find a logical explanation for why this man was in my bed. “I think I may have had one too many drinks last night.” A blush burned at my cheeks. “I hate to admit that I don’t even remember your name, but did you come home from the bar with me last night? It’s all kind of a blur.”
I watched as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before he smirked again, an amused expression melting onto his perfectly sculpted features. “Unless the bar was disguised as an Amazon Prime truck… I don’t think so.”
And that’s when it hit me. ***The box.*** The freaking six foot box! My eyes warily traveled back up to his before I stuttered out, “No… You’re kidding. You’ve got to be…”
With a shake of his head, he pointed to his chest. It looked like a tattoo of sorts, but when I got a closer look, I was even more confused. My fingertips reached out to trace the lettering as I read, ***“Made in Texas.”***
With a shove, I broke free from his embrace and ran into my living room. The box was on its side and packing peanuts littered the floor. You’ve *got* to be kidding me… As my feet padded across the hardwood, I stopped when I saw the shipping information sprawled out near the box. I quickly picked it up and began reading.
“Thank you for your order from Mail a Man™ in Texas, where your wish is our command!”
The second I felt him come up behind me, his arms wrapping me in the warmth of his embrace. The paper fell from my hands and fluttered to the floor.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet to my ears, but my body was screaming for me to get away, warning bells sounding off loudly in my head. And that’s when I felt it.
The cool feeling of metal pressing into the skin of my throat. I hissed when I felt it graze the skin, my hands freezing at my sides in complete and utter shock. I was in no position to try and fight this right now, not with a knife to my throat, so I did the only thing I could in the moment. I begged.
“Please don’t do this…” My eyes flicked down to the paper, a name staring back at me. “Maverick…” I mumbled, my words falling from trembling lips. “Please put down the knife.”
I heard him chuckle before his other hand came up and tangled itself within my hair, grabbing a fistful of it and yanking hard, until my head fell back and I was peering up at him. “Say my name again…” he rasped, the sound a primal sort of growl.
I shuddered, tears welling up and threatening to spill over. “Why are you doing this? What *is* all of this?”
“Do you remember the directions on that box of candles, darling?” I cringed, the pet name anything but endearing.
“Y-yes…” I breathed out shakily.
“Did you follow the *one* rule on the box?”
“I-I think so.” My memory was foggy though, and I wasn’t sure if I had or not.
I watched as his brow lifted and his lips tugged up into a wicked smirk before he released my hair and backed me up against the wall, the knife still trained at my neck. He towered over me, his presence ominously imposing. If I didn’t figure this out quickly, I knew something horrible was going to happen.
“Wrong answer…” he hissed, his warm breath fanning out across my ear as he leaned in.
“But I…” My voice trailed off. “I don’t remember telling anyone.”
“Oh, but you most certainly did.” Shivers raced over my arms as his lips moved down past my ear and onto my neck.
“Please, just let me go… I promise-”
“It’s a bit too late for that, now isn’t it?” he started, the knife at my neck pressing harder against the skin, thick rivulets of blood slowly trailing down my collarbone. Tears blurred my vision as his other hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him so close that I could smell the spice of his cologne.
“I don’t want to *hurt* you…” he whispered, words trailing off as his lips hovered dangerously close to my own.
My eyes looked anywhere but directly at him, and I gasped when I felt his hand grip my chin and tip it upwards, hauntingly blue eyes meeting my own. “I want to *destroy* you.”
Fear bloomed within me, setting my body aflame with the need to survive, so I did the only thing I could think of. It was impulsive, but it *had* to work.
I smashed my lips to his, stood up on my tip toes and wound my fingertips into his hair, tugging it softly as I deepened the kiss. A small groan of approval left his lips as he held me there, the knife in his hand clattering to the ground as his hands lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.
My eyes slowly opened, making sure he was fully involved in the kiss before I noticed something scattered on the floor. ***The directions.*** Without missing a beat, I moved my hand down his chest, nails raking hungrily at the skin, trying my best to distract him as I squinted at the words, *“off switch.”*
When I felt him pull back, I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to be enthralled, breaths leaving my lips in small, shaky puffs that quickly turned into a sigh of relief when he buried his head into the crook of my neck.
Once again, I indulged him, small gasps leaving my lips, urging him onward as I tried and failed to read the wording about switching him off. But that’s when I felt it. Bingo. My hands stilled, no longer tugging at his hair. It was right behind his neck. With a quick flick, I switched it off and waited. But instead of the outcome I was hoping for, he froze and then glared at me.
“Did you just try to switch me off?” The words left his mouth in a snarl, dark brows scrunched together furiously.
My plan from before backfired and I was quickly losing my cool. “O-of course not!” I stuttered, my voice a bit too loud.
A choked breath caught in my throat as his hand wound around it tightly. “You *cheeky. Little. Slut…*” he whispered, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You wanna do this the hard way?”
That breath was quickly exhaled as he slammed me onto the floor, grabbing the knife and plunging it into my thigh. I shrieked as I fought to move from beneath him, my hands thrashing and punching and scratching as I tried and failed to fight him off. Crimson pooled around my body, blooming across my pajama shorts and soaking into the fabric as I cried.
Another strangled scream reverberated throughout my ribcage as I felt him wrench the knife free and plunge it down into my shoulder. At this point, I was sobbing hysterically, my body trembling and cold from all the blood loss. I was sure that I was going to die. Until I remembered something.
*“Hannah, did you know that in my self defense class this week…”*
I fought to remember, sifting through the pain and the ever mounting confusion that muddied my thoughts as more and more blood flowed around me.
*“Damien, I’m really busy right now. Can you-”*
*“No, this is a good one! Did you know that if someone’s on top of you and your upper body strength isn’t as strong as your opponent’s, all you’ve got to do is buck your hips to get them off balance?”*
With the last of the strength that I could muster, I balled my hands into fists, fingernails biting into the flesh of my hands as I fought back the pain, and bucked my hips upwards as hard as I could. Maverick jolted and fell off of me, his back hitting the ground with a hard thud. I quickly wrenched the knife from my shoulder, a scream ripping past my lips as I plunged it straight into the front of his face.
With a gurgled wail, Maverick stumbled backwards, writhing on the floor, a strange crackling sound filling the air as his body spasmed and then stilled. A strange black substance oozed from his nose and mouth, but I was far too worried with the fact that I thought I was going to pass out. My phone was still in my purse, so I dragged myself over to the kitchen table, a trail of red flowing behind me. My vision was spotty, but I pushed past it, determined to call for help.
When my hands finally wrapped around the handles of my purse, I yanked it to the floor and grabbed for my phone. A strange buzzing began to fill my ears as I frantically dialed 9-1-1. I was going to pass out. I need to act fast.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Another round of tears threatened to break loose, relief flooding my system at her words, but I shoved them aside and laid on the ground, trying my best to stay awake. “I need…” My mouth felt like it was moving in slow motion, my lips barely able to form the words. “I need an ambulance,” I managed to say, words slurred and jumbled. “I’ve been… I’ve been stabbed. Please hurry.” I shivered, a breath catching in my throat. Despite the blood being so warm, my body was indescribably cold. “I think I’m dying.”
And that was the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital. According to my friends, I was out for several hours, but I would make a full recovery. As for Maverick, he was nowhere to be seen, but there was an investigation going on that I would know more about tomorrow. As I sat in the hospital that night, trying to stomach a bowl of soup and a cup of Sprite, I reached for my phone, the notification light blinking like crazy. When I finally opened it up… I nearly vomited.
“Mail a Man™ would like to formally apologize for the faulty boyfriend that was delivered to your doorstep last night. Fortunately, this incident has been elevated and brought to the attention of corporate. We are delighted to inform you that we have decided to compensate you for your troubles.
I threw the phone on the floor. I clutched my stomach and threw up all over the front of my nightgown, the last sentence of that email sending me into a full blown panic attack.
“And we’ve decided to send you a new one… *via overnight shipping.”*
source
Today is my 24th birthday, and for some reason, I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Some of you who are older than me are probably looking at your screens and smirking at my “young adult angst,” or my “almost 25 which is halfway to THIRTY” crisis. But I really don’t know how to feel? On one hand, I’ve never felt so youthful. So full of life. So full of endless opportunities. But on the other hand… I feel like I’ve missed the boat.
When my alarm clock screamed at me at exactly 6:30 AM, I angrily smacked it and then turned to look at the empty side of my bed. My arm jutted out, fingertips running over the cool fabric of a spot I thought would be filled by now. My friends are all married, and despite being happy for them, I couldn’t help but think about how the only thing I slept next to last night was the sock I’ve been looking for since last week.
I yanked it free from the tangled covers and tossed it onto my nightstand, but I didn't make any motion to wrench myself out of bed just yet. Instead, I found my eyes roaming back over to that empty spot next to me, the pillows still perfectly upright. They made me sick. I snatched them up and threw them across my room. I think it’s safe to say that my first day being a 24 year old had already elicited a medley of feelings.
When my phone dinged, I turned around and grabbed it, my eyes nearly rolling all the way into the back of my head when I realized who it was. My ex.
*“Hey, thinking about you today. Happy Birthday. I miss you.”*
***“I bet you do,”*** I wanted to type back, but I refrained.
Instead, I deleted his message and finally decided to block his number. It has been three months since the break up, and I’m totally over it now. I’ve deleted all of our pictures and burned the painting he had made of us for Valentine’s Day. It didn’t make me feel any better, but I couldn't stand to look at it any longer.
*Ding*
As I peered down at my phone again, I swiped up and smiled this time. Heather.
*“Happy Birthday gorgeous! You got any plans tonight?”*
*“No, but I think I’m gonna do a rain check on whatever you’ve got up your sleeve.”*
She instantly responded, my smile widening. She was insufferable.
*“Come on, it’s your birthday! You got a secret coffee date or something instead? ;)”*
I laughed and quickly typed back. “I wish!”
*“So… I was thinking we could celebrate your birthday tonight with tacos and margs? Our usual spot? Amelia and Jolie will be there too!”*
I mulled the thought over in my head for a second before I decided. I rain checked on the last invite too, but in all honesty, I just haven’t felt like myself lately. Depression was a heck of a mood killer these past few weeks, and it was really starting to take a toll on my social life. Maybe I just needed to get out.
*“Sure, that sounds great! Hey, I really appreciate ya for not giving up on me and dragging me out of my slumps. You’re a gem.”*
Heather’s only response back was a few white hearts, and then… Something that really piqued my attention.
*“Look at these cool birthday candles I bought off of Etsy! I know how you like creepy/weird things, so I figured you would get a kick out of ‘em! I’ll put them on your birthday cake tonight, and who knows, maybe they’ll work! ;)”*
As my fingers zoomed in on the picture, I studied it with mild amusement. It was a small wooden box with the words, **“Wishing Candles”** printed across the front of it in thick, black ink. The edges of the box were slightly worn and splintered, but nestled inside were twelve black candles. Just below the wording on the front was something written a little smaller in red. I zoomed in as close as I could, my eyes straining to read the lettering.
“Good for ONE wish. ***Caution:*** Do NOT tell anyone what you wished for. All wishes are between the wisher, and the wisher only. Should you break this rule… The wish will go sour.”
I giggled and typed back.
*“This looks like some silly little gimmick, but it’s cute. Thank you!”*
On the drive to work that morning, I flipped through multiple radio stations until I came to a stop at a redlight. I huffed and finally decided on switching it off. Nothing good was on the radio this morning, and the last thing I wanted to listen to was another commercial about “Fantasies Lingerie.” As my eyes wandered over to the time, it glared back at me disapprovingly. 7:50 AM.
I cursed under my breath for staying in bed those extra five minutes, and leaned back in my seat, throwing the sun visor down so I wasn’t blinded by the early morning sun. As I waited for the light to change, my eyes wandered over to the gym across the street. A man and a woman were walking out.
I watched as she giggled, her perfectly blonde ponytail bouncing to and fro as she playfully punched the man on the shoulder. He looked like a giant compared to her, his tank top straining across the expanse of his chest, and his biceps big enough that a blind person could see them from a mile away. His hair was shortly cropped and his teeth screamed Hollywood white. I rolled my eyes when he snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, slapping the girl on her *extremely* well toned butt. It took all I’ve got not to roll down my window and scream at them to get a room, jealousy creeping up on me again.
Instead, I was met with a honk. The light was greener than I’ve ever seen it, and I’d been gawking at this perfectly happy couple like a bitter divorcee. I ran a hand over my face and blew out a breath as I pressed down on the accelerator. The man behind me yelled a slur of obscenities and flipped me off as his souped up, hillbilly monster truck maneuvered around me and zoomed off. There was a decal on the back of his truck in big, red, block lettering: ***“BIG NASTY.”***
“He’s *definitely* compensating for *something*,” I muttered under my breath.
When I finally arrived at work, the rest of my day didn't go much better. I was drowning in reports, none of my pens worked, and the coworker who bothers me from time to time decided that TODAY was the day to come tell me about his *newest*, *most* stupid, *completely* idiodic realization.
“Hannah, you’ve got to hear this one. I promise you, it’s well worth your time.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, way too chipper for my brain to comprehend at that moment.
“I’m *sure* it is…” I mumbled, sarcasm oozing from my voice as I tried to look anywhere but directly at him.
“What was that?” he asked, completely oblivious.
“Oh, nothing!” I smiled and waved him on, telling him to continue.
“So, do you know that crickets are…”
As Damien droned on about crickets, I couldn’t help but think about his poor wife. How many random facts did she listen to in a day? But then it hit me… Even *DAMIEN* was married. Somewhere out there was a woman who loved Damien and his stupid fun facts. Even *he* had someone to sleep next to at night… And when they laid in bed and he told her a fun fact about milkshakes, or antique cars, or CRICKETS, she probably melted in his hands like putty and begged for-
“Hannah?”
“Oh, yes! Sorry, I got lost in thought there for a second.” My hand came up to scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. “What were you saying?”
“I was just saying that it’s 5:00! You should probably be getting out of here and celebrating your birthday or something, right?”
My eyes flew to the little clock ticking away on my desk. Had he really been talking to me for a whole twenty minutes? “Right! Yes!” I exclaimed, quickly gathering my belongings and nearly twisting my ankle in the process, the tip of my red heel accidentally getting wedged beneath my swivel chair.
When I finally made it to the restaurant, hurriedly zipping to the back corner booth that we usually sit at, I was swarmed with a cacophony of, “Happy Birthday Hannah’s” and lots of excited hugs. The night started off with multiple baskets of chips and endless bowls of salsa and queso. Amelia settled on a non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri while Jolie, Heather and I enjoyed a margarita. Once the tacos came out, we started to talk about our jobs and our weekend plans… And then the topic I’d been dreading all night.
“So-” Amelia started with a grin, golden strands of hair nearly toppling into her tacos as she excitedly leaned forward. “How’s your love life lately? Have you been seeing anyone?”
My smile instantly dimmed, but I swallowed back my disappointment. “Not recently. I gave a guy my number the other day and-”
“Did he call?!” Jolie blurted out, her eyes lighting up as she quirked a freckled brow.
All three girls were now sitting on the edge of their seats.
“His *girlfriend* did…”
All three of them gasped. “No! No way!”
“I got two phone calls that I didn’t answer because I was busy. But then I noticed that he left me a text about wanting me to give him a call when I had the time. When I called back though, he didn’t answer and it went to voicemail…”
Heather smirked, already knowing how this was going to end. “*Her* voicemail, right?”
“Yeah, she must have found the number and decided to call it, but I had no idea he even had a girlfriend.” I shrugged and picked at my last taco.
Amelia’s lips tugged up into a sympathetic smile before she said, “Don’t you wish it was possible to just order the perfect boyfriend? Have him shipped straight to your door like Amazon Prime!”
Ironically, Amelia’s husband was the *perfect* example of a man who looked like he was shipped straight to her door, but regardless, I knew her comment came from a good place, so I appreciated the sentiment.
Jolie, on the other hand, simply rolled her eyes and slumped back in her seat. Unlike Heather and Amelia, she was single too, so she knew exactly what I was dealing with. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my boyfriend boxes have all been shipped by freaking FedEx,” she scoffed and then continued, “They’re always dented, damaged, and useless by the time I open 'em up.” A round of laughter burst out before Jolie patted me on the shoulder. “You know what? His loss. That guy sounds like he was a steaming pile of-”
“Oh, they’re bringing out your cake! Look!” Heather interrupted, clapping her hands excitedly as the small, 6 inch cake was set in the middle of the table. I smiled when I realized what kind it was. Carrot cake, my favorite.
When all three of them broke out into an obnoxiously loud version of “Happy Birthday,” I nearly slid under the table, but instead, I found myself laughing at the horribly sung rendition before Heather slapped the tabletop and held up a hand.
“Wait! The candles! I almost forgot!” As she scavenged through her purse, we all waited patiently before she finally yanked them free and slid them out of the box. Jolie and Amelia helped her position all twelve of them on the cake before the waiter lit them, and then trailed back off towards the kitchen.
With a wink, Heather glanced at me and said, “Make a wish!”
A large part of me thought it was silly, but a small part of me whispered, *“If there’s even an inkling of a chance that these candles work, maybe I should make it worthwhile?”* And so I did. With a large inhale of breath, I slowly closed my eyes, blew out the candles and made my wish, the words echoing in my mind.
*“If these candles really do work… Please send me a boyfriend. Someone who is loving and kind. Someone who is loyal. Someone who is… My other half.”*
When I finally got home that night, I kicked off my heels and untucked my blouse. I was bordering on drunk after those shots I had at the bar after dinner, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and crash. After changing into my pj’s and passing out, I didn’t think much about the wish until I heard my doorbell ring.
I rubbed my eyes and peered over at my alarm clock. 11:11 stared back at me. *Who in the world was at my door at this time of night?* As I crept out of bed, I slid down one of the blinds and peeked out. My brows furrowed when I noticed an Amazon truck parked out in my driveway. Heck, I knew Amazon was dedicated, but this was some next level stuff.
I grabbed my robe off the back of the bathroom door, then wrapped it around myself and slowly tugged open my front door, a curious look plastered to my face when I noticed the very large box standing upright before me.
“Hi! I’m so sorry for the late delivery. This was ordered with same day shipping and we almost missed it!” He laughed awkwardly and then paused, handing me a clipboard before pointing to the dotted line. “Are you Hannah Hoffman?”
With a nod, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and quickly signed the line below.
“Do you need any help bringing this inside? The box is fairly heavy.”
I eyed the man for a second, somewhat warily before I said, “That’s alright. I think I can take it from here. Thanks.”
With a salute, he headed back to his truck and backed out of my drive. When I made an attempt to drag the box into the house though, I struggled. It was *a lot* heavier than I thought. Suddenly, I was second guessing not asking for help. When I finally had it in my living room, I stared up at it for a second, confused and curious.
This box had to be at least six feet tall, and I hadn’t ordered anything, let alone something *this* big. Perhaps it was a birthday gift from one of the girls? But in my sleep-deprived state, I couldn’t care less. I was way too tired to even deal with this right now, so I decided to just open it in the morning and head back to bed.
When my alarm clock went off at its usual time, I awoke with a start, something warm and solid pressing into my back. I instantly froze. A large hand slid out from behind me and silenced my alarm before wrapping itself around my waist.
“Good morning,” the voice whispered, deep and gravelly from sleep as lips pressed against the side of my head.
A sharp breath left my mouth as my heart pounded out of my chest. “Who a-are you?” I asked, my voice falling from trembling lips.
A deep chuckle left his mouth, warm and dark. “You don’t remember?”
Turning to face him, I paled, the realization dawning on me. This was *exactly* what I’d imagined when I made that wish last night. Dark hair, sharp features and cool blue eyes. Eyes that were studying me quite intently with a mischievous little gleam. I watched as his lips slowly tugged up into a smirk.
“Listen,” I started, trying to find a logical explanation for why this man was in my bed. “I think I may have had one too many drinks last night.” A blush burned at my cheeks. “I hate to admit that I don’t even remember your name, but did you come home from the bar with me last night? It’s all kind of a blur.”
I watched as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before he smirked again, an amused expression melting onto his perfectly sculpted features. “Unless the bar was disguised as an Amazon Prime truck… I don’t think so.”
And that’s when it hit me. ***The box.*** The freaking six foot box! My eyes warily traveled back up to his before I stuttered out, “No… You’re kidding. You’ve got to be…”
With a shake of his head, he pointed to his chest. It looked like a tattoo of sorts, but when I got a closer look, I was even more confused. My fingertips reached out to trace the lettering as I read, ***“Made in Texas.”***
With a shove, I broke free from his embrace and ran into my living room. The box was on its side and packing peanuts littered the floor. You’ve *got* to be kidding me… As my feet padded across the hardwood, I stopped when I saw the shipping information sprawled out near the box. I quickly picked it up and began reading.
“Thank you for your order from Mail a Man™ in Texas, where your wish is our command!”
The second I felt him come up behind me, his arms wrapping me in the warmth of his embrace. The paper fell from my hands and fluttered to the floor.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet to my ears, but my body was screaming for me to get away, warning bells sounding off loudly in my head. And that’s when I felt it.
The cool feeling of metal pressing into the skin of my throat. I hissed when I felt it graze the skin, my hands freezing at my sides in complete and utter shock. I was in no position to try and fight this right now, not with a knife to my throat, so I did the only thing I could in the moment. I begged.
“Please don’t do this…” My eyes flicked down to the paper, a name staring back at me. “Maverick…” I mumbled, my words falling from trembling lips. “Please put down the knife.”
I heard him chuckle before his other hand came up and tangled itself within my hair, grabbing a fistful of it and yanking hard, until my head fell back and I was peering up at him. “Say my name again…” he rasped, the sound a primal sort of growl.
I shuddered, tears welling up and threatening to spill over. “Why are you doing this? What *is* all of this?”
“Do you remember the directions on that box of candles, darling?” I cringed, the pet name anything but endearing.
“Y-yes…” I breathed out shakily.
“Did you follow the *one* rule on the box?”
“I-I think so.” My memory was foggy though, and I wasn’t sure if I had or not.
I watched as his brow lifted and his lips tugged up into a wicked smirk before he released my hair and backed me up against the wall, the knife still trained at my neck. He towered over me, his presence ominously imposing. If I didn’t figure this out quickly, I knew something horrible was going to happen.
“Wrong answer…” he hissed, his warm breath fanning out across my ear as he leaned in.
“But I…” My voice trailed off. “I don’t remember telling anyone.”
“Oh, but you most certainly did.” Shivers raced over my arms as his lips moved down past my ear and onto my neck.
“Please, just let me go… I promise-”
“It’s a bit too late for that, now isn’t it?” he started, the knife at my neck pressing harder against the skin, thick rivulets of blood slowly trailing down my collarbone. Tears blurred my vision as his other hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him so close that I could smell the spice of his cologne.
“I don’t want to *hurt* you…” he whispered, words trailing off as his lips hovered dangerously close to my own.
My eyes looked anywhere but directly at him, and I gasped when I felt his hand grip my chin and tip it upwards, hauntingly blue eyes meeting my own. “I want to *destroy* you.”
Fear bloomed within me, setting my body aflame with the need to survive, so I did the only thing I could think of. It was impulsive, but it *had* to work.
I smashed my lips to his, stood up on my tip toes and wound my fingertips into his hair, tugging it softly as I deepened the kiss. A small groan of approval left his lips as he held me there, the knife in his hand clattering to the ground as his hands lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.
My eyes slowly opened, making sure he was fully involved in the kiss before I noticed something scattered on the floor. ***The directions.*** Without missing a beat, I moved my hand down his chest, nails raking hungrily at the skin, trying my best to distract him as I squinted at the words, *“off switch.”*
When I felt him pull back, I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to be enthralled, breaths leaving my lips in small, shaky puffs that quickly turned into a sigh of relief when he buried his head into the crook of my neck.
Once again, I indulged him, small gasps leaving my lips, urging him onward as I tried and failed to read the wording about switching him off. But that’s when I felt it. Bingo. My hands stilled, no longer tugging at his hair. It was right behind his neck. With a quick flick, I switched it off and waited. But instead of the outcome I was hoping for, he froze and then glared at me.
“Did you just try to switch me off?” The words left his mouth in a snarl, dark brows scrunched together furiously.
My plan from before backfired and I was quickly losing my cool. “O-of course not!” I stuttered, my voice a bit too loud.
A choked breath caught in my throat as his hand wound around it tightly. “You *cheeky. Little. Slut…*” he whispered, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You wanna do this the hard way?”
That breath was quickly exhaled as he slammed me onto the floor, grabbing the knife and plunging it into my thigh. I shrieked as I fought to move from beneath him, my hands thrashing and punching and scratching as I tried and failed to fight him off. Crimson pooled around my body, blooming across my pajama shorts and soaking into the fabric as I cried.
Another strangled scream reverberated throughout my ribcage as I felt him wrench the knife free and plunge it down into my shoulder. At this point, I was sobbing hysterically, my body trembling and cold from all the blood loss. I was sure that I was going to die. Until I remembered something.
*“Hannah, did you know that in my self defense class this week…”*
I fought to remember, sifting through the pain and the ever mounting confusion that muddied my thoughts as more and more blood flowed around me.
*“Damien, I’m really busy right now. Can you-”*
*“No, this is a good one! Did you know that if someone’s on top of you and your upper body strength isn’t as strong as your opponent’s, all you’ve got to do is buck your hips to get them off balance?”*
With the last of the strength that I could muster, I balled my hands into fists, fingernails biting into the flesh of my hands as I fought back the pain, and bucked my hips upwards as hard as I could. Maverick jolted and fell off of me, his back hitting the ground with a hard thud. I quickly wrenched the knife from my shoulder, a scream ripping past my lips as I plunged it straight into the front of his face.
With a gurgled wail, Maverick stumbled backwards, writhing on the floor, a strange crackling sound filling the air as his body spasmed and then stilled. A strange black substance oozed from his nose and mouth, but I was far too worried with the fact that I thought I was going to pass out. My phone was still in my purse, so I dragged myself over to the kitchen table, a trail of red flowing behind me. My vision was spotty, but I pushed past it, determined to call for help.
When my hands finally wrapped around the handles of my purse, I yanked it to the floor and grabbed for my phone. A strange buzzing began to fill my ears as I frantically dialed 9-1-1. I was going to pass out. I need to act fast.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Another round of tears threatened to break loose, relief flooding my system at her words, but I shoved them aside and laid on the ground, trying my best to stay awake. “I need…” My mouth felt like it was moving in slow motion, my lips barely able to form the words. “I need an ambulance,” I managed to say, words slurred and jumbled. “I’ve been… I’ve been stabbed. Please hurry.” I shivered, a breath catching in my throat. Despite the blood being so warm, my body was indescribably cold. “I think I’m dying.”
And that was the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital. According to my friends, I was out for several hours, but I would make a full recovery. As for Maverick, he was nowhere to be seen, but there was an investigation going on that I would know more about tomorrow. As I sat in the hospital that night, trying to stomach a bowl of soup and a cup of Sprite, I reached for my phone, the notification light blinking like crazy. When I finally opened it up… I nearly vomited.
“Mail a Man™ would like to formally apologize for the faulty boyfriend that was delivered to your doorstep last night. Fortunately, this incident has been elevated and brought to the attention of corporate. We are delighted to inform you that we have decided to compensate you for your troubles.
I threw the phone on the floor. I clutched my stomach and threw up all over the front of my nightgown, the last sentence of that email sending me into a full blown panic attack.
“And we’ve decided to send you a new one… *via overnight shipping.”*
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| 20,000 mlx | |
| 19 | |
| 20 |