Page 59 of Locke

He nodded again. “What’s your shift?”

“4pm to 10pm.”

He let out a long breath. “You’ll be handling bedtime then.”

I nodded. “I don’t know what to expect.”

“Such strange hours all of a sudden. Are you comfortable around him?”

The kettle began to whistle. I turned it off and poured water into the mug, assuring him, “Ryan is very professional. He’s never done anything that crosses the line.”

“Of course he wouldn’t with all those cameras around.”

I dumped sugar into the water and then dunked the teabag in. Quickly plating a few sugar cookies, I turned around and carried it over to him. I settled the mug and plate on the makeshift table he had already spread in front of him. I adjusted his legs so that they were closer together and then I sat down on the chair next to his wheelchair to watch him eat. I’d clean it up when he was done, and then I’d tidy around the kitchen. If he was short on anything, I would usually duck out to the store nearby and stock him back up.

He watched the news as he sipped his tea, and I crossed my arms, feeling the sleepless night creeping up on me. My blinks were slower, my body unwinding because I’d been so tense lately, and now my muscles felt sore.

I needed to relax, I told myself. What happened was over. He had taken me, we had used each other, and then he had let me go. Jem had let me go. And since then, Locke was AWOL. Not a single sighting around town. Had I obsessed about him being seen, per say? The answer was a resounding yes. The man was more a mystery to me after my time with him than before. And somehow that bastard had gotten under my skin. He had placed a cool balm on my pain, but it had been only temporary, and I was feeling like my old, tragic self again.

“A man visited me last night,” Derek suddenly spoke, his voice teetering a bit at the end.

I looked at him, confused. “Visited you how?”

“Came through the door.”

“Staff?”

He looked down at the plate, his gaze distant. He brought his mug down quickly, but I noticed the way it shook before he placed it down.

Immediately, concern flooded me.

“No,” he finally spoke, and it sounded like he wanted to say more, but he stopped short, thinking.

“Derek?” I pressed.

He looked at me, and it was a loaded look filled with fear. “It was dark. I’d woken up on my own, feeling unsettled, and perhaps I knew—maybe I knew someone was there. The television was still on, and the room had a blue glow about it, and he stood there, finding some pocket of darkness to hide himself under. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell he was dressed well. In a black suit. I…I asked him if he was going to hurt me, and before I waited for him to answer, I told him I didn’t have any money. He said he didn’t come looking to rob a disabled man who lived in the black cavities of Blackwater, and I…I began to cry, Kali, because I felt like the Reaper was standing over me about to claim my soul. He…He hardly moved. Like an apparition. He…He was unnatural.”

My teeth were chattering, the only indication I was terrified.

So, it wasn’t over then. He hadn’t let me go, after all.

What did he want?

Derek eyed me, looking wary now. “He asked about you, Kali.”

Fuck.

Burying the sheer terror I was feeling, I looked away from him, numbly staring at the television as I asked calmly, “What did he want, Derek?”

“To know about you.”

Know about me? That didn’t sound right at all.

“What did you say?”

“Well, I…I talked about you.”

My brows came together as I looked back at him now, demanding once more, “What did you say, Derek?”

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