Page 102 of White Noise

I could answer.

Could let my voice roll out of the speaker and tell her exactly how fucking useless all this effort is, but I don’t.

Watching her stare at the silent speaker is so much fucking better.

Her eyes narrow after a few seconds, irritation slowly replacing the fear she refuses to admit was there.

“Go fuck yourself, Silas. I know you’re watching me.”

My mouth pulls into a grin inside the signal.

Always that pretty fucking mouth.

She walks away muttering under her breath, still pissed because she can’t decide whether I’m actually gone or just refusing to give her the satisfaction of proving I’m here.

I’m definitely fucking here.

Eventually she gives up for the night, showers, and crawls into bed like tomorrow is going to be some clean break from everything I’ve done to her.

She intends to run, and that thought should annoy the predatory side of me.

Instead, it makes something dark settle deeper.

Let her.

I want her to climb through the fucking walls.

I want her filthy, scraped up, bleeding and furious by the time she makes it outside.

To leave the phone, the watch, the laptop, and every other little device she knows belongs to me now, and then I want to find her anyway.

The idea has my attention immediately.

Tomorrow, Saga plans to test how far I can follow, so tonight, I’m going to make damn sure I know exactly what I’m following.

I wait until the condo goes completely still.

She takes longer to fall asleep now.

That’s my fault too.

Saga rolls onto one side, then the other, checks the dark monitor from beneath the blanket, and lies there staring at the ceiling like she expects me to crawl through it just to prove a point.

I actually fucking consider it.

Mostly because imagining the look on her face nearly makes it worth wasting the effort.

Instead, I stay quiet and let exhaustion do the work for me.

Her breathing eventually slows, but even sleep doesn’t take all the tension out of her.

One hand stays curled near her chest beneath the blanket.

Her jaw remains tight.

Every so often her pulse kicks harder for no fucking reason at all, like some part of her is still waiting for the static to start.

Fuck, even asleep, she’s listening for me.