Page 13 of Prey

"I should get back to my desk," I say. "The Thomas file needs..."

"The Thomas file can wait."

What?

"Sit down, Grey. We’re not done talking. Now tell me something," he says. "Something true."

Something true. I’ve been in your apartment. I’ve touched your things. I have a box full of evidence that shows I’m not stable. I built an entire new life because the last one burned down around me when someone decided I was too much.

"I don’t understand the question, sir."

"Yes, you do."

His eyes don’t let me look away.

"I’m not very interesting."

"I don't believe that."

The words scrape against everything I’m hiding. "I collect things, I hear myself say."

What are you doing? Shut up. Shut up.

"What kind of things?"

"Small things. Things people leave behind."

His eyebrows lift.

"Like what?"

"Paperclips. Pens. Things like that."

You idiot. You absolute idiot.

He stares at me for a long moment. "Interesting," he says. "I do the same thing. I have a drawer at home full of things people have left in my office. A watch. A cufflink. A tie someone forgot."

"I should get back to work," I insist.

"This conversation isn’t over," he replies.

It has to be. If I stay here any longer, I’ll tell him everything. I’ll hand him the reasons he’s looking for to leave.

"It’s over for now," he smirks. "But we’ll continue it later."

There’s going to be a later? People usually end it here.

"Go, get some work done. You look like you need to focus on something else for a while."

My legs feel wrong as I stand up and walk to the door. Loose, like they might give out at any moment.

"Grey."

I turn.

"You’re doing a good job," he says. "Keep it up."

Keep what up? The stalking? The collecting? The box of his things in my apartment?