Page 36 of Resist Me Not
TREY
Walker stayed the night. I was and was not surprised to find him in my bed when I returned from disposing of Wayfair’s body. Walker slept rather soundly for someone who had been so frightened earlier. He woke when I joined him but settled again in my arms and drifted back to sleep.
What a fool I was for allowing our date despite not having finished with the evening’s victim in time. It was careless of me. Dangerous. As dangerous perhaps as letting Walker live.
The only other people who ever knew enough to turn me in weren’t granted the same mercy.
So why did I spare Walker? I’m not certain of the answer myself yet, other than wanting to continue feeling the wholenesshe stirs in me. Perhaps that is all it is, but it is something I have never known.
I can tell Walker isn’t sure what to do after we both awaken the next morning, and it settles in his mind that none of what happened was a dream. The good and the bad were all real, and he chose to stay, just as I chose to let him. Whether he will continue to choose me is something I need to be vigilant of. If his resolve changes, he may yet need to be dealt with.
For the first time, thinking that way sits strangely with me. Heavy. I don’t want todeal withWalker. I want to hold him, keep him, comfort him. I want to bring back his golden glow that seeing my darkness has so thoroughly dimmed.
Walker checks his phone, likely for distraction before we have said much to each other, and his brow furrows at what he finds. I checked it last night to confirm he hadn’t made any calls or sent any messages. He hadn’t. But it appears someone has been trying to get a hold of him since then.
“Is something wrong?” I ask while dressing.
Walker sits in his underwear on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know. I have a bunch of messages and missed calls. I don’t recognize all the numbers. I’m not awake enough to deal with this. I need to go home.” He shoves his phone face down into the sheets, glancing slightly at me but not really looking. “I need to shower. Get some fresh clothes.”
“You can shower here. Borrow some of my clothes.”
“I don’t think I’d fit into anything of yours.”
“I’d be willing to be the judge of that.”
Walker laughs, and for a brief moment, there’s a spark of his old light. But then it fades as if his laughter surprised him and he isn’t sure he’s allowed to do that anymore. “I need to go home,” he says again.
“Let me take you.” I finish buttoning my shirt and bring him his clothes from last night to change back into for now. “I’ll leaveyou be once you are safely home. I’ll even stay away as long as you need. But call me later?”
Finally, he looks at me, accepting the bundled pants and shirt with a nod. “Okay.”
I call a rideshare for two stops. First, we drop off Walker. He is mostly quiet during the trip, but he leans against me without prompting and lets me hold him.
“Call me,” I say again when he steps out, and he clings to my hand, squeezing it, before he nods and leaves me.
“Is this right?” the driver asks.
“Yes,” I answer, but it is understandable why he wants confirmation.
Stop two is just around the corner.
I get coffee from one of the nearby Starbucks. I know Walker won’t leave until after he has showered, changed, and listened to his messages. He might not leave at all. But I have a hunch, and so as time ticks away, enough that all of those things could have transpired, I wait around the corner of his building and watch his door.
After less than an hour, he comes back out.
He is more agitated than before and failing to hide it. Wherever he is headed, it must be within walking distance, or perhaps he welcomes the walk to clear his head.
I follow, being sure to always have several people between us so I can duck out of view should he turn back. Which he does. Often. He expects me to be following him. Such a smart boy. Possibly paranoid, but then his paranoia is warranted.
He does not spot me.
We are headed in the direction of my hotel, but just when I wonder if he truly is going back there, he takes a left. A police station is that way. There are several precincts in the city, but this one is the nearest between Walker’s apartment and my hotel.
Between Walker’s apartment and Curtis’s.
Don’t do this, Walker, I think, closing the gap between us, but there is no doubt where he is headed as we near the final intersection. Even being behind him, I can tell that his gaze fixates on the building. Something changed his mind, or perhaps it always would have been changed with enough time and being out of my presence.
Despite the proximity of the police station and witnesses around, this is an ideal street for a quick abduction. No cameras, the sidewalk is narrow, and there are many alcoves and alleys from here to the end of the street, where one more crosswalk is all that’s left before Walker turns me in.
