A tear slips free.
After he kills me, he’ll kill Daltyn.
And I won’t be able to stop it.
I jerk awake, my breath heaving from my lungs.
What the fuck?
I sit up, clenching the covers as I look around the room.
The familiar scent of Daltyn’s cabin fills my lungs.
I’m fine.
But I don’t feel fine.
I get up, my ankle protesting when I put weight on it. But I ignore it and keep going.
I don’t know where exactly. Maybe the living room.
But once I’m there, my eyes drift to the stairs that lead to his loft.
No. Don’t do it.
But I’m already moving to the stairs.
You can’t go up there.
But my foot is on the first step anyway.
I argue with myself the entire way, trying to talk myself out of this.
But it doesn’t work.
I freeze when I spot his bed. He’s not in it.
Terror fills me as my eyes dart around.
Oh my God. Where is he?
And then I hear the sound of running water.
Relief fills me.He’s in the shower.
I should go back downstairs.
But I stand there, unmoving.
Just move closer. Then you’ll calm down enough to go back downstairs.
It’s stupid that just being near him makes me feel safe.
But it’s all I can think of right now.
I stand outside the slightly cracked door, listening to the spray hit the tiles. The steam seeps out of the crack, swirling around me.
And then I hear it.
