Page 22 of Moth to a Flame

It only leaves two men who I’ve been inthatkind of contact with. We have men clients, lots of them. It’s not them. None of them has ever flirted with me. No one’s ever asked me out on a date.

The men on the dating and hookup service, however…

I snatch the other eye, and I have my answer.

Marshall. Marshall had green eyes. Both of them.

Clayton had one blue and one green. Kind of hard to miss that.

It means someone knows I’ve been talking to them. Someone’s been stalking me.

That someone doesn’t approve of me dating, or just of me dating Marshall.

Well, that explains the ghosting.

There’s not a sliver of compassion or sadness in my heart as I put the eyeballs down. I still think it’s cool, to have them brought to me. As much as I’m sorry that Marshall had to lose his life for me to get this present.

I’m also kind of jarred that I have a murderous stalker.

Not afraid, though. He could’ve come at me in the street just now when Landon wasn’t around.

Jigsaw is always concealed when I’m outside. Mojo isn’t that intimidating when he doesn’t bare his canines. No one’s supposed to know that Rosemary and I trained him to attack any threat. To bite hard.

That he’s as badass as Stephen King’sKujo, if not more so.

I’m safe.

Rosemary, the protective older sister she is, wouldn’t agree. She wouldn’t approve of the eyeballs.

Nothing good would come out of telling her or our parents about it. They’ll lose it. Hire security and alert the police about a psycho stalker killer.

They’ll rob me of the sense of freedom I’ve worked so hard to gain. It’d taken me a full year to sleep in my own apartment and not Rosemary’s once we moved in here. Two to start walking outside at night.

Having security and people fretting over me will convince me that I have something to fear.

I don’t. I have everything under control.

These eyeballs are mine. Maybe I’m a little screwed up to consider them a gift. Maybe that night in the park stripped me of some of my sanity.

Good thing I stopped seeing my shrink five years ago. She would’ve had a field day with this.

“Welcome to your new home, Eyes,” I say as I move around the apartment.

Empty jar, ethyl alcohol. That’ll keep Marshall’s eyeballs protected until I decide what to do with them.

That is, if I decide to do anything at all.

CHAPTER FIVE

Landon

This isn’t me who’sdriving into the city. Those aren’t my eyes scanning for a free spot in a parking garage in Brooklyn. Isn’t my finger clicking on the fob to lock the car.

But it is me.

Fuck.

This obsession with Regan isn’t healthy. It won’t end well for her.

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