Page 33 of When Death Whispers

Hell, a long couple of days, if I’m being honest. Feels like my whole life cracked open in the span of a few hours.

She nods, but it’s clear she doesn’t buy it. Not entirely. Still, she lets it go.

She always sees more than people think.

That’s the thing about Parker—she doesn’t let me hide behind the grin. She doesn’t fall for the golden boy routine everyone else eats up. Normally, I’m the guy people like but don’treallyknow. The one who keeps things light, doesn’t ruffle feathers, always has something charming to say.

But Parker sees through it.

And the messed-up part is—I like it. Crave it, even. Being seen. Really seen. It’s terrifying and grounding all at once. Earlier she said I mattered. I’ve never mattered before, not truly, not completely. To anyone. Except maybe my parents. She cares and I’m… totally addicted.

We pull into the driveway of her little house. I cut the engine and hesitate. The silence stretches between us.

“I think I’m gonna run home real quick,” I say finally, breaking it. “Grab some stuff.”

Parker looks over, brows lifting.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I add, smirking a little. “Your wardrobe is surprisingly comfortable. But I’m pretty sure these sweatpants are cutting off circulation to vital areas.”

That earns a small snort and I swear her cheeks turn pink. “They’re not even that tight.”

“They are, actually. And I draw the line at wearing your pineapple socks again.”

“Hey, those socks are iconic.”

I smile at the back-and-forth, but the warmth in my chest dims quickly. I need her to know I’m not running—not from her, anyway.

“I’ll be back before noon,” I say. “Figured it’s safer to go while it’s light out.”

Her face softens, the edges of her wariness relaxing just enough to make something in my chest ache. “Okay.”

I nod. “You need anything while I’m out?”

She shakes her head. “No. Just… be careful.”

“I will.” I point to the dome lights still on above us and that earns me another small smile and a shake of her head.

She opens the door and steps out, boots crunching on the gravel. I watch her walk to the porch, the light buzzing faintly overhead. She hesitates at the top step and turns back.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” she says. “But I’m glad you are.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah. Me too.”

She disappears inside, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

For a second, I don’t move. Just sit there, gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me anchored. My hand comes up to my chest, pressing against the spot where it feels like something is clawing at me from the inside. It’s faint now, but it’s definitely getting worse.

I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I know it’s because of…him.Her monster. He’s still here. I can feel it in the way the air shifts, the way the darkness lingers too long in corners where it shouldn’t.

He marked me. I don’t know how, but I feel it now—like a tether pulling tight, like something rotting inside me that wasn’t there before. I see things now. Flashes of cold, dark places. Glimpses of bones in reflective surfaces one second, and then gone the next.

Alongside the smell of decay and a low, growling voice whispering my name, telling me things I don’t want to hear. Promises I don’t want to believe.

She’s mine.

You can’t protect her.

I ball my fists and shake my head, like that might clear the whispers away.

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