You deserve fast.
Something twists low in my stomach. Not fear or even comfort. This is something between the two, clouding my instincts with intrigue.
How did it—this person?—get my address in the first place?
I don’t know how to reference the app and-or person behind the app, so… HimLock is all I’m going to call it. For now. I think…
HimLock knows Eris is my legal name, not just a username. And it’s got a camera on my front door. And now it’s putting cameras inside my apartment?
Am I really going to let this happen?
I set the phone down and look at myself in the mirror. Really look at the details. My eyes are tired, jaw too tight. Don’t even get me started on my hair. It’s barely convincing me I brushed it today.
I don’t recognize this version of me… The woman playing pretend again but using someone else’s rules. Or the woman who lets others dictate what safety looks like.
Especially when that decision is made by a shadowy figure who may or may not be a person.
And yet, I’m not going to stop it.
But that’s because where there’s a connection, there’s a trail leading to the other end… And also, because I’m clearly losing my mind.
I’ll keep playing this game until I grow bored or HimLock stops getting in Daniel’s way without me lifting a finger.
At 2:58, someone knocks on my front door, which means they’ve got access to this building, either by resident fob or service work keycards from the reception desk.
I check the peephole and cringe.
Of course… Because why wouldn’t this be the kind of day I’m having?
He looks ordinary, like he could belong in anyone’s doorway with his black zipper hoodie and perfectly faded jeans. There’s a tablet under his arm and a duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. But it’s the casual way his sleeves are pulled up to expose his muscular forearms that brings me back to the night I spent with him.
The moment I open the door, recognition sweeps through all my senses… Clean and immediate. Dirty and delayed.
Jace.
“Camera install?” he asks, voice lower than I remember.
I nod and step aside, not trusting what will come out of my mouth.
There’s no smiling or flirting. He just moves past me into the apartment, scanning corners, angles, and sight lines like he’s tracing imaginary images onto my walls. Like he’s done this a thousand times.
Like he can’t acknowledge that he’s been inside me.
Or maybe he doesn’t remember…
I stay behind him, arms crossed over my chest, pretending it’s curiosity instead of calculation. Stalking each individual movement as though it might give me some insight.
Is it him?
Does he know who it is?
Jace works quietly, his hands steady, clearly not a stranger to precision. Every movement is measured in a way that would keep me transfixed if I weren’t trying to glean some knowledge from this… Like how to disengage each camera he plans to mount.
“Did you just start doing this?” I ask casually enough to sound like I’m not dissecting every word.
He glances over his shoulder, then back to the wall where he’s marking for holes. “Side job.”
I snort and try to cover a sarcastic laugh. “Do you know why they picked you?”
