“Go away,” I whisper.
Not how this works.
I line the stack of pages to a perfect edge and keep working.
Victoria starts packing up to leave right at five.She offers to wait for me to walk out but I’m mere pages away from sending this manuscript off so I tell her to go ahead.It’s almost seven when I finish and mark through that item on my never ending to-do list and decide to wait until tomorrow to pick another manuscript to start on.
I pack up my stuff and notice a few other offices still have their lights on so I won’t be the last one to leave today.I take the elevator down to the parking garage, constantly looking around me.I half expect Cassius to materialize out of thin air.I need him to materialize so I know he’s real, that he isn’t some weird figment of my imagination.
The parking garage is mostly empty, just a few cars scattered here and there.My boots reverberate off the concrete walls, the sound a steady companion in the vast, dimly lit space.It's always a bit eerie here after hours, the quiet a stark contrast to the noise of the city outside.I definitely like walking out with Victoria better.I tuck my keys between my fingers like a talisman and count my steps to the car.Twelve.Eleven.Ten?—
The cool air of the garage is a relief after a long day cooped up in the office.I'm looking forward to the drive home, though to be honest I’m anticipating all sorts of crazy things.
Cassius already there and sitting on my couch, having let himself in.
Cassius following me home and flashing his bright lights behind me so I know he’s there.
Cassius asleep in my bed, exhausted from his travels.
Cassius never showing up at all.
An unseen force slams me forward, my face pressing hard against the cool glass of the window.The shock of the impact steals my breath, a mix of fear and confusion flooding my senses.My heart hammers in my chest, adrenaline surging as I try to process what's happening.
The person presses me against the car, their presence a threatening shadow at my back.Panic claws at my throat, and for a moment, I'm frozen, unsure of what to do, how to react.This can't be happening.But the cold reality of the situation is undeniable, pressing in on me with as much force as the body behind me.
A male voice whispers in my ear.“I was going to wait, wear you down, but then I saw you walking out alone.”
“Wyatt?”I ask, tears already streaming down my face.How can this be?Wyatt works with me.Sure, he was flirty, but nothing that indicated he was capable of this.
He spins me around to face him, our noses touching.His breath is hot and sour.I have to fight not to throw up.“You wanted me.What happened?You got here, flirted, then ditched dinner, barely responded to me at lunch.”His shoe toes my boots apart.A fingertip tracks down my sternum.“Are you just nervous?That's gotta be it, right?”Wyatt runs his hand up my leg above my boots, under my dress.He starts at my knee, just where my boot fabric ends, up and down, not stopping until he connects with the crease of my thigh.
Panic consumes me.I have no idea how to defend myself against Wyatt.He continues up and down my leg until he graces my underwear with a single finger.I open my mouth to scream, but Wyatt places a palm over my mouth.
“I wanted this from the second I laid eyes on you.You'll like it, I promise.”
I thrash.Kicking, jerking, trying to bite.His grip is so tight.The man with the spider charm in his throat leans by the pillar, watching.When I buck, he jerks too, a useless echo, angry but unable to touch Wyatt.
He uses his free hand to pull my dress down.Instead of further panic, I find myself grateful that he's left my underwear.A cold wind skates over my shoulders.The Bolo-Hat ghost steps in tight, brim dipped low, and the others crowd close, tugging at the heat around my wrists and throat like they can loosen his hold by stealing the temperature.It doesn’t budge.They can’t physically hurt him.
And then it hits me.They’re not circling for Cassius this time.They’re circling forme.Every one of them hates him, I can feel it, their deaths cling to him like smoke.But even with all that hatred, they’re trying to help me.I just don’t know why.
I struggle, fight with every ounce of strength I can muster.I buck against him.I’m giving getting away everything I’ve got when my eyes go wide.
The Bolo-Hat flickers hard.Not danger, rescue.Hold on.Another snap of cold.He’s coming.Breathe.Two more seconds.
I don’t do even numbers.I make it three.
One… breath in, hold?—
I skip two.
Three… breath out?—
A hand I know wraps Wyatt’s forehead from behind.Palm like a brand.His head jerks back.Before I can blink, before Wyatt can question who’s trapping him in the way he trapped me, a knife slits his throat.For one breath I don’t understand.Then I do.His throat opens like a terrible mouth.Blood spurts from his Adam’s apple like a geyser.Heat hits my face in a red bloom.The thick, stickiness is warm as it coats my neck and chest.
I stand there in my panties and bra, shaking, breath stuttering, blood pooling down my collarbones.Somewhere, a camera light winks from red to dead and back again.I can’t drag my eyes down.I can’t look away.
“Lindy,” Cassius says.My name doesn’t sound like mine.My knees unlock.I would have fallen if his arm didn’t slide around my waist.His other hand covers my eyes.
