Page 13 of Primal

I chuckle to lighten the mood, twirling a strand of hair around my finger nervously. For some reason, I’m feeling really jittery tonight. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Hey, did you ever figure out what happened to that old man?” I ask quickly to change the subject.

Yolanda is a nurse at the local hospital, so she has no shortage of crazy stories. I use that to my advantage tonight, because I really want to take my mind off everything.

We talk for her entire thirty-minute break, then I let her go so she can go back to work. Lifting my arms over my head, I stretch out the muscles in my back and shoulders that have been so tight and tense lately.

“Kiara?” Grandma says from the other side of my door. I go to open it and see her standing there with a glass of milk and a small plate of chocolate chip cookies. I smile and take the snack from her. “This used to always help you sleep when you were little.”

I set the milk on my nightstand and bite into one of the cookies. “I remember. Thank you, Grandma.”

She kisses me goodnight and goes to her room. I close my door again and sit on the bed with my milk and cookies, watching TV until I get tired.

***

The moonlight casts shadows along the walls of my darkened bedroom. I’m not sleeping with the TV on tonight. I refuse to let him make me scared in my own home.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I am, in fact, scared as I lie here with the knife he gave me clutched to my chest, waiting for him to slip in and do God knows what to me. For some reason, I just know he’s coming back tonight.

I can feel it.

I hate how confused I’ve been, the constant push-and-pull of my emotions. It makes no sense that I’m as scared as I am, but also as turned on as I have been. Of course, fear is a natural human reaction, but being aroused at the thought of my intruder coming back to steal from me certainly isn’t.

I wish Mom were here. She was my best friend; no part of my life was a secret from her—except this. These urges that I feel in an otherwise fucked up situation.

What’s that saying? How can something so wrong feel so right?

Yeah, that pretty much sums up my entire life right now.

Letting out a defeated sigh, I lie on my stomach with the knife resting next to my pillow and close my eyes to try to get some sleep.

PART II

THE STORM

CHAPTER 13

HIM

My movements are quiet as I pull myself through the small hidden door in the downstairs closet. What was once such an obvious hiding spot has now turned into the only thing keeping Kiara from finding me. When I discovered the little door in the back of the closet, I knew it would be the perfect place for me to watch my butterfly from a safe distance while still being close enough to her. I’ve discovered that she and Esther don’t use this closet much, except to shove crap inside, because they haven’t discovered me yet.

It took five weeks to empty my apartment. I sold almost everything I owned, which wasn’t much—it was mostly just clothes and furniture. Since the end of my lease at my apartment was almost up, I’d decided to leave instead of staying another year. It worked out perfectly.

Getting all of my most important things in here was hard, especially since I only had the dark hours to get it all done. It was so exhausting that I literally didn’t have any energy to visit Kiara. Staying away from her for so long was killing me, but now that I’ve got everything in order, I don’t plan on leaving again.

She’ll never be able to get away from me.

Closing the main closet door as quietly as I can—it’s been squeaking lately, so I’ll need to stop by the hardware store and pick up some lubricant for the hinges—I quickly put the alarm in “stay mode” before making my way up the stairs to Kiara’s room. I’m so fucking hard right now, I feel like I’m about to burst in my fucking pants.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I gently grab the doorknob and slowly ease the door open. Kiara’s there on the bed, sleeping on her stomach with her face buried in the pillows, covered with a soft gray comforter.

I inch closer, taking my time so the floor doesn’t creak. She doesn’t have the TV on tonight, so I have to work hard to stifle my heavy breathing.

When I finally reach her bed, I sit down next to her and admire how beautiful she looks when she’s sleeping. I run a finger over her soft, smooth skin to test the waters.

She doesn’t move.

Perfect.

Grabbing the top of the comforter, I slowly pull it down and reveal her mostly naked body, dressed in just a thin tank top and lacy panties.

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