Page 32 of Monsters

Chapter 12

“Darling?” Peter whispered sleepily while answering the phone.

There were a few moments of some shuffling before he spoke again, this time his voice was husky. “Is everything all right?” The noise of a sliding door closing sounded on the other end.

I fought back the well of emotions, my throat tightening. “Not really.” I sat on the edge of the bed packing a few changes of clothes into an overnight bag.

“What’s that mean?” he asked, confused. “Something happened at work?”

“So much has happened, and I just want you here.”

“I know, baby. Things are moving slowly, and…” Peter heaved a heavy sigh, “… it looks like I’ll be coming home a day or two later.”

Biting my tongue to stop the sobs, I let the few tears fall down my cheeks.

Something fell in the kitchen, the clutter echoing down the hall. I was on alert, body tense, heart pounding.

“Gem?” Peter’s voice called on the other end, but I didn’t answer. I was focused on whoever or whatever was in my apartment. “Darling, are you there?”

I listened carefully. Nothing. The apartment had fallen silent once more.

“I’m… I’m here.”

“You don’t sound like yourself. I wish I could fly home now, but I just—”

“It’s fine,” I said, my tone clipped.

“Don’t be mad—”

“Peter, I have to go. See you when you get home.”

“Gem!”

I ended the call, cutting short his somewhat desperate plea. Clutching my cell, knuckles turning white, my feet met the floor. I walked slow and silent, shoulders aching with tension. The lights were on throughout the apartment, my nerves too fragile to be consumed with darkness. With my gaze ahead, I searched the shadows and combed the kitchen. The windows were locked, the fire escape empty. Nothing seemed amiss. So, what was I missing?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The door rattled on its hinges from whoever was behind it, the frightening sound causing my cell to slip through my fingers. It clattered to the floor, face down.

“Shit!” I cursed, my heart threatening to explode.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“For God’s sake!”

Talking tentative steps, I stopped just shy of the door and looked through the spy-hole expecting to see a monster from the past. Instead, a familiar, yet distorted face came into view.

Shaking, I unlocked the door, my reproachful stare meeting that of Kinross and Walsh.

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” Walsh said with little concern, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Can we come in?”

Kinross observed my uncertainty.

“You shouldn’t be here. If Mason knows you’re coming to my apartment—”

“We wanted to catch you before you left,” Kinross said, calmly. “May we?”

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