Page 31
Listening, I hold my breath.
Footsteps in the hall move closer to my room, and I recall the open door and the stories of the demon that wanders these halls; panic grips my heart like a vise.
Turning, I place my back to the door, not wanting it to open when whatever’s behind the footsteps makes its final appearance in my room to kill me.
“H-hello? Is someone there?”
With the next footstep, a floorboard in the hall creaks. There’s weight behind the steps.
Has the estate’s demon finally come to seek out the woman flipping his world upside down?
“Please, answer me. You’re scaring me!” I call out, my voice shaking unapologetically.
The footsteps halt, but no one steps through the door.
I swear I hear a faint chuckle that doesn’t sound male, and it sends me from flight-or-fight mode into a blind rage.
In a moment of lunacy, like those movie characters who do the opposite of what you think they should, I make a split-second decision and rush the door, gripping either side of the frame.
“You think my fear is funny?!” I yell, looking down either side of the hall, my head on a swivel.
To my utter dismay, there’s no one there.
The east wing hall is far too long for someone to have escaped without me seeing them leave. So my brain can’t fathom what I’m seeing, or rather, what it’s not seeing.
“What the fuck?!”
My back to the open room behind me grows rigid, the hair on my neck standing on end as I now feel as though I’m being watched.
Shit.
No one could’ve gotten into my room without me noticing, but maybe they were in the room the whole time?
The bathroom…
I whip around, moving my back to the right of the door to press against the wall for cover. I don’t want my back turned to any empty space in this fucking house.
“Get out of my room!” I whimper, tears finally falling as my fear reaches a boiling point.
No one’s there.
There’s no fucking way no one’s there, but there isn’t.
I distinctly felt someone’s presence.
My bathroom door is still closed, and I storm over, ripping it open to find no one inside.
The shower has a glass door, and there’s nowhere for someone to hide.
I scramble to the bed and shimmy beneath the covers, grab my phone, and dial Kyrin.
It’s two a.m., and I feel horrible about bothering my boss this late, but he got me into this mess in the first place.
“Hello?” I ignore the sexy tone of his sleep-filled voice, and tears fall harder down my face, my body shaking.
“I think I might be losing my mind.” I manage through sniffles.
“What? Are you alright?” I hear the bed shift as he likely sits up. The clicking of a lamp on his side signals I’ve woken him fully, and a knot forms in my throat, guilt at the hard center of it.
