The four walls of this room remained unchanged. Hanging heavy and thick, like soup, the humid air was a stagnant cloud that made my skin sticky and too warm. No windows let in light. Despite the lack of any openings that would enable me to look outside or for anyone to spy inside, I suffered that telltale prickle along my spine.
Someone was out there.
Because they were watching me.
I couldn’t explain the feeling away, and the longer I experienced this vulnerability of having no means to move away from danger, I wished Emil would be back.
I didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, or why, but I did take his word for it when he told me that he’d be back. It was the first time he’d said something like that, and I just knew I could believe him.
What if something happened to him?
What if he’s gone, though, and I’m stuck here and?—
I closed my eyes and exhaled a deliberately slow breath.No. Stop. Just stop.
Panic wouldn’t do me any good. But as I wondered how long he had been gone for, it was a challenge to convince myself that he was all right.
What the hell is going on here?
I can’t be thinking this.
Acting like this.
If I sensed danger, I had every right to assume thathecould be the danger in the midst. He was a killer, and he wasn’t all too pleased with my being stubborn like this.
I should be wary of Emil, for fuck’s sake.
Yet, I wasn’t. Enough had shifted between us that we had a weird middle ground. I was worriedabouthim now. With his continued absence, I grew more stressed about wishing he were here to handle whatever was watching me.
Is it an animal?
A person?
What’s going on?
Footsteps sounded through the house, and I let my shoulders sag with the familiar noise. Emil was back. I recognized the gait and weight of his walking through the house.
“Emil?” I called out. I licked my lips, hating how shaky I’d sounded.
Showing him my weaknesses wasn’t smart. I learned that the hard way when he proved how I desired his touch. But like this, with my fight-or-flight instinct triggered because of someone watching me, I didn’t really care if he heard the panic in my voice.
He opened the door, alone like always. The slight smile on his lips curled upward as soon as he saw me. But once he fully entered the room and must have noticed the anxiety written on my face, he furrowed his brow, then smiled again. “Aww. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
He didn’t lose his smile. “You seem a little agitated there. Like you were waiting for me to come back.”
“I was. I am. I mean, I was.” I shook my head, keeping my voice to a whisper.
He narrowed his eyes.
“I think someone’s near.”
A blank stare was his response. Already, I knew him well enough to interpret that look. I was becoming familiar with his tells and mannerisms. While he looked like he was just staring back, deadpan, I could tell he was actually considering what I’d said. Maybe he was sorting through what he knew to detect whether this was a concern.
“I felt like someone was close by,” I said, as if paraphrasing it would change the severity of why I was so glad to not be alone again.
He smirked, shaking his head slightly. “Stop messing with me.”
