“Thanks for telling me,” It comes out softly.
He nods once. “Yah… mi love you.” And just like that, my attitude crumbles.
“I love you too,” I tilt my head toward my shoulder.“Bye… Mr. Jacobs,”I add, voice low, still rubbing my lip.
He smiles. “Later,Ms. Williams.” Then as the door close, I think I hear him say.“Soon change that.”
My cheeks warm. Wait… he’s not the type to.. um… maybe I just wanted to hear that.
2
Drone
The phone starts ringing while I’m in the shower. At first, I ignore it, dismissing it as spam or something that can wait. But when it rings again… and again… and again, a cold twist tightens in my gut.
Four calls. That’s not normal.
I turn off the water and step out quickly, droplets still racing down my skin as I wrap the towel around myself. My fingertips are still damp when I snatch the phone from the vanity.
“Hello?” I answer, breathless.
Silence.
“Hello?” I try again, brows pulling in.
Still nothing.
Thenclick. The line goes dead.
I blink at the screen, my stomach unsettled. A part of me wants to brush it off, but something about that quiet, that nothingness, clings to my skin worse than the water.
Weird. Creepy even.
I set the phone down and pull my hair into a high ponytail, securing the edges with a soft bath headband. I move through my skincare routine slowly, more to calm my thoughts than out of habit. My reflection looks back at me, damp, flushed, a little anxious.
After slipping into my favorite purple pajama set, worn just enough to feel like home, I crawl into bed and check the time.
Its been over two hours since Nickoi left.
I try not to overthink it. I scroll through Netflix until I land on The Harder They Fall. Within minutes, I’m pulled in. The music, the energy, the characters, it’s all a perfect distraction. Especially when the Jamaican tracks start playing. I hum along, even laugh out loud once or twice.
And somehow, even though I know he’s one of the villains, I find myself rooting for Cherokee Bill.Figures.
You really do have a thing for badman, don’t you, Zara?
I laugh under my breath. That voice in my head is always too loud. I grab some fruits from the nightstand, snacking as the story unfolds on-screen. It’s a good movie. Good enough that I almost forget how long I’ve been waiting.
Almost.
By the time the credits roll, reality returns and so does the worry. It’s after eleven. And still, no sign of Nickoi.
I sit up straighter and dial his number. The phone barely rings once before he answers.
“Hey,” I say, my voice softer than I expect.
Relief spreads through my chest like warmth, and before I can stop it, I’m smiling. Just hearing his voice is enough to quiet the storm I didn’t even realize was building.
“Mi think you did a sleep, b,” Nickoi says. His voice is soft, but the background noise is loud, people laughing, a bass line thumping through the phone. I ignore it.
