Page 137 of Blood & Betrayals

Yes.

I type out the message before I’ve considered my actions. Maybe I am becoming reckless. Perhaps this new sense of comfort is turning me careless.

I frown, reading the message. Does this person think they are being forthcoming while I’m being the difficult one? That they didn’t threaten me last time we spoke?

I try to remember what they said before. It was something about watching my back. It definitely sounded like a threat.

Warnings?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact you told me to “watch my back” and the predatory “little fae” tagged onto the end that makes me feel like I’m being stalked by an unidentified predator like I am prey.

There is a pause before the three little dots appear again, and they bounce for a while before the message is sent.

I read the message once, twice, three times. The knots in my stomach seem to fray a little. When have I ever enjoyed the chase? I am so fucking tired of running, but I’d be lying if I said this stranger did not intrigue me. 1015 rouses something inside of me, something I want to oust as soon as possible.

I read the message over and over, and he continues when I don’t reply. I realize that I’ve started to think of 1015 as male, and I’m unsure why. There is just a sureness in the tone of the messages that can only come with the arrogance of a male.

I snap when he mentions Connor.

I can practically hear the cruel smirk in his message.

I stare at my phone. My stomach clenches with fear, but there is that flicker of something I don’t want to identify.

I swallow the lump in my throat, and it feels like sandpaper as I choke it down. My hand shakes a little as I tap on the little gray blob of a profile photo and hit the large red block button.

There is no sense of relief as I do it.

Because deep down, I know this is far from over.

56

Summer

Connor’s large, muscular body is warm. It’s like a furnace, actually, and I wake up sweating. At some point during the night, he’s shifted in the bed, and now he’s resting his head on my chest, using me like a pillow. His even, peaceful breaths tease my skin, and I smile down at him. I kiss the top of his head, his blond hair ruffled in sleep.

I try to ease from beneath him, but he tightens his arms and pulls me in closer. His semi-hard cock brushes against me, and desire floods my core, eliciting a deep groan. I shift, and my gaze lands on my phone. I remember the conversation with 1015 and the threatening and dominating nature of the messages. Adrenaline floods through me, beating back the desire.

My dream is long forgotten, but my body is tight as if every muscle has been flexed all night. I know I need to go for a run this morning. I ache to chase the elusive clarity that only exercise brings me, but then I remember the many dangers vying for my attention. Perhaps today is the day to try the gym.

After much gentle coaxing, I manage to scoot myself from beneath Connor. He doesn’t wake, but he grabs my pillow andburies his face into it, inhaling deeply. Some powerful, warm emotion fills me. What a mush.

I pull on hot pink shorts and a matching sports bra before shoving my feet into my white sneakers. I grab my black hoodie as I leave the dorm and pull it on when the bite of the early autumn air nips at my skin. Combat class is held on the training field or in a designated classroom, so I’ve never been to the gym, but I have a rough idea of where it is. I push myself into a run, headed in that general direction.

All the lights are on in the building, and I can see various equipment and weights through the glass doors. I push inside, and a wall of air-conditioned air hits me. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and I feel my nipples tighten uncomfortably in my sports bra. I tug the zip of my hoodie up higher and walk deeper into the gym.

I look around, appreciating the clean aesthetic of the place. Exercise machines and weights are neatly organized into different zones. There are open areas for cardio, strength training, and yoga or floor exercises. At the back is a large empty room separated from the rest of the gym by a glass wall. Its floor is covered with mats, and there are multiple racks and shelves filled with various weapons. The gym is empty, except for a few trainers chatting or completing their own workouts before the gym fills up.

I look around, feeling a little overwhelmed and missing my simple run-of-the-mill outdoor daily run. This space may be beautiful, but it’s not as beautiful as running through the forest or in a park. I sigh and pull my hair into a high ponytail before walking to one of the treadmills. It’s the farthest one from the rest of the gym, and it has a sense of safety to it.

I climb onto the treadmill and tap the start button. The belt moves, and I start with a leisurely walk. It only takes moments before I’m bored, and I gradually increase the speed until I’m ata pace similar to my outdoor runs. It takes a little longer than usual, but my anxieties and fears do finally melt away. I’m able to relax into the solace of the burn in my lungs and the way my legs move in perfect rhythm as I settle in.

A tall, muscled male appears beside me. “You’re new.”

My peace disturbed, I look at him, forcing as much venom into my glare as possible. He’s even bigger than I appreciated in my peripheries. His face is not conventionally handsome like Connor’s, but there is an attractive, rugged charm to it. His dark hair is sheared close to his scalp, somehow making him look even more intimidating.

His lips pull into a cocky smile, and he crosses his arms across his chest, making his unreasonable biceps look even larger. I look away, but I can still feel his annoying smirk as he waits for my reply.

I continue running, my gait still even and unshakeable. “Oh, this must be the warm welcome from the resident gym rat.”

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