Page 4 of In Her Shadow

“Shit.” She’s not laughing anymore, her eyes are closed, and it looks to me like she’s fallen back and hit her head. Despite the risk of her seeing me, I have to check that she’s okay. So, racing toward her, I crouch to the floor and rest my head against her chest, making sure she's breathing. I’m close enough to hear her heartbeat, I can feel her chest rise and fall against my cheek, and I fist the dress she’s wearing to try and ease some of the tension in my body. I’ve never been this close to her before, and I can feel temptation clawing at me from the inside. I should take her to the nearest hospital, get her checked over, but I don’t want anyone else taking care of her. I want it to be me. I want it to be me so much that I risk everything and slide my arms under her limp body to lift her from the ground. She’s a dead weight, but still easy to carry as I start making my way back to her apartment. I get a few strange looks from the people I pass, not just because I’m carrying an unconscious female, but also because I didn't have time to get dressed properly. As soon as I figured she was leaving her apartment in the state she was in, I rushed out to follow her. All I’m wearing is a pair of sweatpants. The fact my skin is covered in tattoos doesn't exactly make me look like a friendly guy next door. Seeing me carrying this pretty, passed-out girl through the streets is bound to raise some suspicion, but I don’t care what people think. Eloise Meadowsmay not be mine, but she’s always been mine to protect, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I place her carefully on the ground and prop her against the wall when I get to her door, and to save time going through her purse, I use the key I have to gain us entry. Once I’ve unlocked the door, I pick her back up, hauling her over my shoulder so I can carry her up the stairs to her apartment. I grip my arm tight around her thighs, letting her upper body dangle over my back, and her limp hands slap against the back of my thighs as I take each step. I breathe her in while I have the chance, appreciating every fucking detail of being this close so I can imprint them into my memories.

It’s unlike me to act on impulse, and this is a bad idea. Feeding my hunger is only going to make me want her more, but I can worry about that once I’ve taken care of her.

I use the other key I have to let us into her apartment and head straight toward her bed so I can lay her down. Rolling her on her side, I check the back of her head, and when I feel a bump, I rush to the freezer to get some ice.

She’s still lying static on the bed where I left her when I return with the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel, and when I apply it to her injury, the cold shocks her body enough to make her stir.

“Shhhhh.” I soothe her, keeping the cloth pressed to the back of her head and stroking the hair out of her face at the same time. I let my thumb stroke over her soft cheek and smile to myself when the sides of her lips hitch up as if she likes the way it feels.

“You're a very bad girl, Eloise Meadows,” I whisper before leaning down and pressing a kiss on her forehead. I hold my lips against her skin for way longer than I should before slowly pulling away, then, moving the covers of her bed so she’s beneath them, I tuck her in nice and safe. Keeping the ice heldagainst her head, I continue to watch her up close. I count her breaths, and I stroke her soft, delicate skin. Then, for the rest of the night, I watch her and pretend that she’s mine.

ELOISE

Ifeel my body tumbling through the air, then when I hit the ground, I wake up with a start, and sit bolt upright.

I have no idea how, but I’m in my bed, and when I get the sense that I’m not alone, my eyes move sideways and I see the stranger who’s in my apartment.

“Aggghhhhh!” I scream at the top of my voice when I see a guy sitting topless on my dressing table stool.

“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He stands up and holds out his hand as I scurry up the bed, hitting the headboard with my shoulders and panicking that I have nowhere left to go.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” I look around me for something I could defend myself with.

“I was passing by when I saw you hit your head last night. I made sure you got home safe, then I stuck around to watch you sleep in case you were concussed,” he explains as I touch my hand to the back of my head, where I can feel it throbbing. Suddenly, everything rushes back to me: the drinking, me leaving the apartment, throwing up… what was I thinking?

“You want me to get you something for that headache?” He smirks at me as his arms cross over his muscular chest, and it strikes me that there's something familiar about him. Heundeniably works out, and his arms, shoulders, and neck are covered in tattoos. Knowing that he found me in a dark alley should probably terrify me, and yet that initial fear I woke up with seems to have vanished.

“Sure.” I stare back at him in confusion as I watch him push his ass off the dressing table where it’s been resting then head toward my bathroom. He moves so fluidly around my home, coming out of the bathroom, then walking over to the kitchen to pick a glass from the cupboard so he can fill it with water without having to search for one.

“Here.” He waits for me to open up my hand before he drops two pills from his palm into mine and hands me the water.

“Thanks.” I narrow my eyes, still waiting for fear to take hold. But nothing kicks in.

“You're welcome,” he whispers, returning to the dresser and retaking his spot. Then, saying nothing, he stares at me intensely as I swallow the Advil and wait for his next move. At least, Ithinkthey were Advil…I didn’t even check. I’ve just woken up with a six-foot-three, tattoo-covered stranger in my apartment and taken the two pills he gave me without question…this has serious true crime documentary potential. How have I become the girl people scream at their TV screens at for being so dumb… How hard did I hit my head?

“What's wrong?” he asks, looking concerned when my eyes start darting side to side.

“I’m just…do I know you from somewhere?” I study the guy harder. I’m sure I’ve seen him before, I just can’t figure out where.

“You don’t know me,” he assures me, but the sinister grin on his face suggests there's something he’s keeping from me.

“Oh, my god! Did I…Did we?” I quickly lift the covers to check that I’m still dressed, and thankfully, I’m still wearing the dress I went out in.

“I much prefer to fuck my women while they’re concious,” he assures me, tilting his head while he waits for my response. The way his voice sounded when he said ‘fuck’ sets my clit pulsing and I almost choke in shock.

“I’m sorry. I just…I’m. I’m not used to having guys in my apartment.” I throw back the covers and go to stand up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He races toward me, just managing to catch me when I stumble.

“You should take things slowly, you drank a lot of tequila last night, and you drank it fast.” He takes my arm and eases me back down onto the bed, and I stare at the hand he’s holding with me when I notice that it didn’t make me flinch. How is this guy touching me, without making me scared?

“Wait…how do you know that?” I look up at him when I suddenly notice something else. “How do you know what I was drinking?”

“I…I don’t, for sure, I just figured.” He suddenly looks less confident, like he knows he just fucked up.

“And how did you know my address? Who are you?” I pierce him with my eyes as he starts to move further away, and I rack my brains trying to think where I know him from.

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