He was taller, maybe a little bit more than Silas, reddish brown hair that was slightly curly at the ends and a few strands of gray threaded near at his temples. He was tan, close to what I looked like when I spent hours out in the sun during the summer and refused to put on any kind of sunscreen.
His green eyes were pinned directly on me, slightly wide from surprise while he stared at me. “Hello…?”
I didn’t recognize him.
Friend?
Partner?
Lover?
He didn’t look pissed to see me.
A good sign so far.
“Hey,” I said, nodding to him. “Can I help you?”
He stared for another long moment until his gaze slowly raked over my body. Astonishment reflected in them before he locked on to the spatula in my hand and then deviated to the tie of the robe I was wearing. A grin stretched across his lips, deviousness bleeding into his eyes. “Did you sleep over?”
What kind of question was that?
“Excuse me?”
He gestured with his chin. “You’re wearing his robe.”
What was this, an interrogation?
“You his ex or something?”
The man sputtered before he doubled over, slapping his hands down onto his knees while he let out a vicious cackle. The gesture had me stepping back once, my hand tightening aroundthe spatula in an effort to ready myself to have to wield it against this crazy motherfucker.
While he didn’t seem like any kind of threat—none that came at me the moment he laid eyes on me and saw me as being somethingotherin this house—that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Clearly, my read on people hadn’t garnered me a good track record considering I’d been dead wrong about Naomi.
“Oh my god.” The man gasped, wiping a finger under his eyes. “That’s so good.”
He was an odd one, I’d give him that. The invasive questions were what I was latching onto as suspicious.
What were the chances Silas had a stalker?
One who was interested in his escapades, and apparently, knew his front door code.
I glanced down the other side of the hall; it remained empty and dark. No sign of Silas waking from the dead and coming to join us.
Damn.
Of all times for me, a cop, not to have a damn phone on me.
Improvising would have to do, then.
The thing about having a blunt object, even if it wasn’t exactly meant to withstand a lot of force, was it would still hurt being cracked across someone’s face. Enough to double them over and take them down long enough to run back to Silas’s room and grab my phone to call the precinct.
“What’s going on?” another voice asked, wandering from down the hallway.
The man straightened and turned, waving his hand wildly. “Babe, come take a look at this.”
Soon, another man appeared, younger looking than the first guy but not by much, with honey brown hair and freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheeks. His head was tilted curiously. “Oh? You are…?”
Two of them.
