We managed to get me home before dawn, but then Shadow was forced to disappear.
The money and papers I grabbed from Hurley’s safe are all spread out before me. The teddy bear sits in the corner. I can barely look at it.
Every nerve seems to compact on another until I feel so much internal pressure I’m liable to explode any moment.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs.
When I exhale, I know what to do. Arranging the papers in an organized pile, I grab a piece of notepaper and write on it. Then I shuck on some sweatpants and my coat and head to an office supply shop a couple of streets down. It’s already open as it connects to a co-working space where people come and go all hours of the day and night. I buy a few large envelopes and some postage then drop off my package in the mailbox.
I breathe a little easier as I walk back to my apartment. The police haven’t always served me, but I’ll have to trust them to take it from here.
The "We" Problem
My nerves twist and grow tighter with each day that I don’t see Shadow. I suppose I shouldn't worry. If he hasn't shown up, it means he doesn't need a human heart to bring him back to his humanity.
Or it means that he ate too many monster hearts, has gone fully feral, and is lost to me.
Or it could mean the Guard has caught him, and I'll never see him again.
The uncertainty is slowly killing me.
I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I actually wish that I had a reason to go out and lead someone to their death. That's completely fucked up, but if it means Shadow would be here with me, I wouldn't care. Accessory to murder is better than being alone.
Wow. I should stitch that on a pillow and start an Etsy shop.
As I open the door to my apartment, I catch a whiff of the salty ocean breeze that still clings to my hair. With all this extra time to myself, I’m called to the seaside more. It feels less lonely. Or maybe it feels lonelier, which is why I find solace in it. The expanse of never-ending waves sloshing back and forth without ever stopping mirrors the uneasiness and turmoil I feel inside.I'm always home before dark as if staying by the bed in case Shadow shows up and needs me.
As I enter my apartment, I feel a shift in the energy. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My veins flood with adrenaline as I take in the sight before me—a shadowy figure hunched over my bookcase, his hands concealed in his pockets.
"There she is," he says, turning and opening his arms to me as if we’re old friends. A powerful aftershave rolls off him, so fresh it stings my nostrils.
The guy is skinny, maybe in his mid-thirties, with slicked dark hair and a toothpick dangling between the gap in his two front teeth.
My hand grips the doorknob as I consider fleeing. "Who are you?"
A sly grin slides up his face as his murky gray eyes narrow. "I'm the guy who’s trying to figure out if you killed Martin Hurley."
Every cell in my body freezes. Guilt and the memory of that night at the club slam into me with equal force. It takes all I have not to recoil at his words.
Instead, my brows scrunch up as I ask, "Who?"
"Oh now, now…" He tsks as the toothpick circles around, directed by his tongue. "Lying is not your forte, my dear."
I adjust the doorknob, still holding it in a vise grip. "I don't know who you are or what you are talking about, and I think you should go."
I wonder if Shadow can feel my distress. Even if he can, the sun is still making its descent and he wouldn't be able to get here for another twenty minutes at least.
The man continues as if I haven't said anything. "You see, doll, Hurley is a very important man in certain circles. His death came as quite a shock."
"I'm sorry for your loss," I say flatly.
The man holds his hands up in surrender. "Nice girls aren't what they used to be. If this was a different time, you'd be offering me a cup of tea and a comfy seat."
"This is the point where you leave," I say, straightening my spine. The shock of his presence has worn off and I'm able to think more clearly now. Even if this man tries to hurt me, I can handle myself.
He chuckles darkly before sauntering to the door, but he pauses by me. The aftershave tickles my nose unpleasantly. He plucks the toothpick from his teeth and leans into my ear.
"We know you were there that night. The last one to see him. Now I don't know how a little girl like you could be capable of such brutality…" His voice darkens. "But I sure as fuck intend to find out." Then he breezes out the door with a "Be seeing you," over his shoulder.
