Chapter 10
Alexei
Ihaven’t seen Kelly in two days. Haven’t seen him leave his apartment at all, for that matter.
Something’s off and it’s eating at me. He could be sick. People get sick in the fall, especially someone who works around animals and germs all day. That’s the logical explanation. The normal explanation.
But I was forced to leave to handle another interrogation for my father. What if I missed something while I was gone? What if someone got to him?
What is it about him that’s made me like this? I’ve never wanted anyone this way. Maybe it’s because he’s the first person who’s touched me like I matter. Like contact with me is something good instead of something to endure. Now I’m addicted to it. Tohim.
I can’t stop thinking about his hands, his warmth, the way he doesn’t pull away when I get close. I want more. Need more. Like I’m trying to fill some endless void that’s been empty my whole life.
I stare at his building, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel in the same pattern I’ve been repeating since I parked here.
I even sent him a text yesterday. Just asked if everything was fine. Casual. Normal.
He left me on read. On fucking read.
Maybe he doesn’t want to see me again. I wouldn’t blame him for that. Any sane person would run from me. But he did say I could come over again.
The thought of him hiding from me makes something ugly and possessive twist in my chest. Makes me want to go upstairs and prove to him that locked doors don’t mean anything to me. That if I want to see him, I will. Nothing stops me.
The only thing holding me back is knowing he’d look at me the way everyone else does when they finally see what I really am.
Still doesn’t stop me from sitting here watching his windows for any flicker of movement that might tell me he’s alive. Something’s wrong. I can feel it crawling under my skin, that animal instinct that tells me when things aren’t right.
I’m not going to go upstairs and check on him. That would scare him.Blyat. This restraint thing really is harder than killing people.
Fuck it.
I pull my hood up against the wind that bites at my jaw. Cross the street fast with my head down, punch in the code I memorized already. Up the stairs two at a time until I reach his floor.
I knock.
I’m trying to be polite by knocking, even though I could already be inside if I wanted to.
He’s not answering.
I knock again, harder this time. Still nothing.
I glance down the empty hall and listen for footsteps, voices, anything. There’s nothing except silence and the hum of that busted exit sign above the stairwell.
I stare at his door and try to picture him. Just asleep. Sick. Ignoring me on purpose because he’s finally figured out that I’m fucked up.
No. That’s not right. I know his schedule better than he does.
I pull out his apartment key.
He’ll forgive me if he’s alive and unhurt. He has to.
I push the door open to complete darkness and silence. No lights anywhere, no sound of movement or breathing. I move further in and let the door close behind me with a click that echoes too loud in the stillness.
Maybe I screwed up and missed him leaving. I walk through anyway toward the bedroom without turning on any lights or calling his name. If he’s here, he’ll hear me coming, and if he’s not, then I’ll know soon enough.
The bedroom’s darker. I pause at the threshold to scan across the space until I see a lump under the covers. I walk to the bed and stop. He’s not moving, not even the slight rise and fall of breathing that I can detect. I watch him for a long moment, then sit slowly on the edge of the mattress.
The second my weight shifts, he jerks violently, and the scream that tears out of him is so high-pitched it makes me blink and my ears ring. He groans like it physically hurts to move and scrambles back against the wall. Pressing himself as far away from me as possible.
