“I’m still me,” she says.
“Are you sure? Because you don’t—”
“I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe,” she interjects. “And right now, that means getting you out of this apartment before—”
Three knocks sound on the door.
My heart drops, head simultaneously whipping toward the noise.
“Fuck.” Gemma grabs my hand without waiting for a reply and practically throws us into the walk-in closet. I stumble slightly when she closes the door.
“What, are we going to hide?” I ask, voice on edge. “How do you know it’s them? It could be anyone.”
She quickly flips the light switch down, leaving only the glare from the windows across my bedroom to illuminate a fraction of the space under the door. I open my mouth to protest again and demand she answer me, but she whips her phone out. The screen light flares across our faces. She taps on a couple of apps and icons, then presses her ear against the door as she peers down at what appears to be a camera feed.
“You have a camera in my hallway?!” I realize.
Gemma scoffs. “You’re in for a big surprise once we get to my apartment,” she mumbles, zooming in.
“Is that band-issued protection or special for me?”
“Which would you prefer?”
“Do you have a whole stalker wall of monitors with cameras watching me?” I ask.
Gemma’s eyes roll in my direction. She gives me a look, and my gaze narrows.
I wrap my arms around my chest and purse my lips at her. “Here I thought you might be original,” I say sarcastically.
“And I thought you’d be smart enough to listen to me when I said your life is in danger, we have to go, and yet… here we are. Hiding in a closet while your assailant knocks on the door like he’s Mr. Nice Guy just here to borrow a cup of sugar.”
I glare and step as closely as I can to her without touching her arm, and when I see the person on the screen, I huff.
“That’s just my neighbor,” I say, recognizing him. “Trevor… something. He was a creep the other day, but—”
“He spoke to you?” Gemma interjects, her eyes wide.
I back up a fraction, wary of her tone. “Ah… yeah. It was—” Shit, when was that? “I don’t know, a week ago? Two weeks? He invited me over for a poker game.”
“And you didn’t tell me because…”
My face hardens. “Because he’s just my neighbor,” I snap. “Was I supposed to tell you about every encounter ever? What about your team? Why is he a surprise? Didn’t you guys do background checks on the people in this building? Why are you being weird?”
“That’s not the person on the lease,” she argues. “Bonnie, that isn’t just some innocent asshole.”
I shake my head and make for the closet door because I don’t know how many more of her lies I can take. “I’m just going to tell him to kick rocks—what the hell?”
She braces herself in front of the door as I reach for the handle, and I shudder at the darkness in her eyes.
“What?” I repeat.
Her chest falls. “He isn’t just your fucking neighbor,” she seethes. “He’s friends with Rad. He’s one of the guys who raped you on Halloween. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s the person who attacked you at Radio Eleven.”
I think my feet are on the ceiling.
I stiffen, sure that I didn’t hear her right. “What?” I ask in disbelief. “What?!Are you—are fucking kidding me right now?That guy?!”
However, Gemma is barely paying me any attention. She’s peering around my closet as if she’s looking for something, her gaze finally snagging on my accessories drawers.
