“Consider it done. Move in whenever you want.’’
She thanks me with a beaming smile.
I can’t tell her that I’m terrified of being alone. Her asking to move in lifts a weight off my shoulders. Blair agreed not to tell Arlo about the hidden bugs and cameras until I’m ready. Well, it’s been a week, and I’m still not ready.
To make it less obvious, I spent every night at Cove’s place. He didn’t push as to why I was there, but I could tell he was curious. By nature, I was never too clingy. Sure, spending time with Cove is amazing, but I like my own space, too.
Yet, for the past week, I was glued to Cove’s hip. If he went to the store, I followed suit. If he went to train, I was there with him, just watching him. He’s curious, and he isn’t prying, but there’s only so much he can tolerate before he gets the answers out of me.
Blair gives me a side glance but keeps her mouth shut. I try to ignore the way she looked at me, but I know it’s filled with worry. She won’t push me to speak out before I’m ready, but we both know I need to tell Arlo and Cove soon.
It’s been keeping me up at night.
I’m just grateful the nightmares haven’t returned.
The first fight comes and goes. I don’t pay too much attention to it; my mind is elsewhere. Rose, on the other hand, is loudly cheering. She’s cheering for whoever the crowd cheers on louder, her opinion changing with the crowd.
“I’ll be right back,’’ I say, standing up.
Rose and Blair both nod. There’s a fifteen-minute break before Cove’s match starts, and I make my way through the crowd, going to the bathroom. It’s fucking filthy, it stinks, and I’m contemplating whether or not I actually want to go inside or not.
The line isn’t as long. With a sigh, I lean against the wall right outside of the bathroom, waiting for the two girls in front of me to go in first. It takes them a while, but once they’re out, I push myself off the wall and head to the bathroom.
My phone slips out of my back pocket. Slowly, I turn around and crouch down to pick it up, but I don’t get the chance to do so.
A hand reaches and picks up the phone. I slowly rise back to my feet, taking the phone from the stranger’s hand. I put it back into my pocket before smiling slightly.
“Thank you.’’
“No problem, baby.’’
My entire body goes rigid, blood draining from my face. Slowly, hesitantly, I lift my eyes up to see the face of the man who’s spoken, and my heart all but leaps out of my chest. The smallest hairs on my neck stand straight as I stare, wide-eyed and paralyzed with fear.
I didn’t expect it would happen so soon.
My breath hitches in my throat, hands trembling by my side. His nose is a bit different than I remember. It’s smaller. His cheekbones are higher, his teeth shining as he smiles. He has veneers now, brightly smiling at me.
His curly brown hair is now straight, cut shorter than it ever was before, in a deep shade of black. He may have undergone a couple of procedures to change his face; he may have dyed his hair, but he couldn’t change his eyes.
The pure evil and sadism inside make my body recoil in fear and disgust. I take a small step back, forcing my feet to move. That’s as much as I can move. My body is frozen in place, and it won’t listen to my commands.
Wyatt flashes me his signature smirk.
“Fancy seeing you here, baby,’’ he murmurs, stepping closer to me.
I blink, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
A thick lump forms in my throat, squeezing and restricting my air. My heart is hammering in my chest. My hands are trembling next to my body, cold sweat washing over me. A couple of droplets slide down my forehead, dampening my hair.
He lifts his hand up, and I flinch, stammering backward a little. My hands immediately fly to protect my face, just like I’m used to when it comes to Wyatt. In response, he laughs. The deep, bone-chilling sound makes nausea build in my throat.
“Oh, baby,’’ he laughs. “Still overreacting, I see.’’
“What do you want, Wyatt?”
My voice shakes and cracks, and it’s barely above a whisper. One look at him and I know that he can hear me perfectly, the sadistic grin widening on his face. He steps back, as if to give me personal space, but it makes me feel so much worse. I’m uneasy, and I’m trapped between him and the wall I’m almost touching with my back.
His eyes flicker all over me, pausing at my hair. “I like your hair. It suits you. But… you know… it attracts a lot of unwarranted attention, baby.’’