Are you free this week?
I ignored him.
And then on late Wednesday morning, I was given a gift when I had to run home from work to grab something I forgot.
As I parked, I saw a distinct person walking into my building.
Wavy brown-black hair.
Tall.
I waited, watching Calder disappear into my building. My eyes traveled up to the fifth floor, where a shadow moved in my apartment.
Sure, I could have confronted him. But where was the fun in that?
chapter
twenty-three
CALDER
Shay lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building and, because I wasn’t Spider-Man or Alex Honnold, climbing through the actual window was off the table. So, as had become my new ritual, I waited outside her apartment building until she left for work.
Now I jimmied her lock, already making a mental note to fix it—it was a cheap landlord special that anyone with half a brain cell could break.
My date with Shay had been only a few days ago, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She was driving me nuts. All week she took dirty photos or made notes that Isworewere about me.
Like a pro-and-con list.
Or a post about her bad date. What had been bad about it? Barring our first date, it was the best I’d ever had.
The lock clicked and I pushed open the door.
This was bad. This was the behavior of the men I hunted. Obsessive.Possessive. Two things I’d always prided myself onnotbeing.
But.
Fuck.
Odaxelagniawas right.
Shaytransformedat the smallest bite.
I shook my head, entering the apartment. I put on an audiobook Shay had been listening to and got to work on the dishes. I’d already replaced most of her cleaning supplies, as the ones she did have hadn’t been used since.
Get on your knees, baby girl, and crawl.
The audiobook continued as I scrubbed her dishes, the earthy, floral lemon verbena scent wafting up from the bubbles.
When I first discovered Shay was sick, I researched everything I could about it. I was very good at severing attachment, and even better at stopping before it happened, but with Shay I…worried.
I worried about her not eating well.
I worried her laundry was taking too many spoons.
I especially worried the graveyard had been overkill.
