Page 8 of Primal

KIARA

It takes an hour and a half for me to put the security system up—and even longer to teach Grandma how to use it when she wakes up from her nap. But we finally get it, and when I’m confident that we both know how to use it, I take a huge breath of relief and go to the freezer to grab some ice for my water.

When I open the freezer door, a gasp catches in my throat.

Sitting there on the shelf amongst the neatly stacked frozen dinners Grandma likes to buy—which were not so organized this morning—is the chocolate pie I wanted but didn’t get from the store earlier.

I don’t think—I grab a knife out of the drawer and run out of the kitchen, ignoring Grandma calling after me.

He’s here; I fucking know it.

I check the downstairs thoroughly—closet, laundry room, backyard, storage shed, even the pantry—but there’s no sign of him.

“Kiara, baby, what’s wrong?” Grandma asks as I storm up the stairs, taking two at a time and nearly busting my chin open in the process.

Throwing open all the doors upstairs, I check each one quickly and head back downstairs when I don’t find any trace of him.

Grandma’s there waiting for me at the foot of the steps.

“Kiara—enough.” I flinch at the hardness of her tone.

I come to a stop in front of her and slump my shoulders, feeling like I’m five again and she’s reprimanding me for running around the house. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, her voice softer now. “You’ve been acting strange and jittery all day. Did something happen?”

My swallow is the only sound in the quiet hall. I look at a random spot on the floor as I say, “Grandma, I’m fine.”

Fuck, I hate lying to my grandmother so much, but I just don’t want her to know. Her health has progressively worsened since Grandpa’s death. If she has a heart attack from the stress of the situation, I won’t be able to live with myself. I hate that I’ve been acting this way around her; that man is fucking up my life right now, and I don’t know how to handle it.

Grandma’s light brown eyes scan me over suspiciously. I know she’s not buying it, but she just waves her hands dismissively and walks away.

***

I make lasagna, garlic bread, and salad for dinner. Grandma and I eat in silence before she heads upstairs to bed. She’s mad at me; I can tell. I don’t even know what to say to her because she knows I’m hiding something.

Why does my life have to be so complicated right now?

I wish my mom was here to help me through this. She was the only person I ever told about my fantasies because I didn’t know what was going on with me. I’d expected her to ground me for being a freak, but she reassured me that it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about.

“Some people discover things about themselves at young ages,” she’d said as she stroked my back soothingly. “This doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you, baby. I’ll admit I don’t fully understand it, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”

God, I miss her so much.

After I clean the kitchen and put a load of laundry in the washing machine, I shower quickly and get into bed. In the darkness of my room, I swear I see the masked man standing in the shadows, but when I turn on my light, nothing’s there.

“Get a grip, Kiara,” I mumble to myself. Turning the light back off, I opt for the TV instead, so I can at least have some kind of light to make me feel better.

Settling on a random show I used to watch when I was in high school, I turn the volume down low enough to be able to hear anything going on in other parts of the house and grab my phone. I let out a gasp when I see the missed text message from an hour ago on the screen.

Dinner looks delicious, butterfly. Can I have you for dinner tomorrow?

My stomach flutters with nerves.

I fucking knew it.

I don’t know why, but instead of calling the police, like any sane person would do, I respond to the text with some sass.

You’re out of your mind if you think you’re touching me again. Where the hell are you?

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