Page 72 of Hide and Seek
I stop pacing the room as my phone pings, and I’m way too eager when I open the app that controls the cameras in his room and see he’s turned the statue around so it’s facing his bed.
He's not in the frame, but that doesn’t stop me from hurrying over to my computer so I can see the feed on the larger screen.
I’m just settling in my chair when he walks into the frame and sits on his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt that saysNot Today, Satanand a pair of worn sweatpants. His neatly combed hair looks damp, like he just got out of the shower, and his cheeks are flushed.
“Are you watching?” he asks nervously and pulls his feet up so he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed. “I mean, are you watching right now?”
I click the panic button.
The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“So, this is really fucked up.” He pauses and blows out a breath, his shoulders sagging as he seems to shrink into himself. “But I really need to talk to someone, and I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this.” He drops his eyes as more color floods his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this.”
I’m already clicking on the outgoing microphone when he reaches toward the statue, like he’s going to flip it around again.
“What happened?” I ask.
He freezes, then slowly drops his arm as a look of cautious hope replaces the utterly broken expression that spurred me to answer him so quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know this is fucked up, and I shouldn’t be doing this, but?—”
“Take a deep breath.”
He immediately obeys, and my stomach and chest tighten at how he didn’t even hesitate to do as I said.
“Now tell me what’s going on,” I say when he blows his breath out.
“I’m…scared.” He swallows, his throat working and his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that’s strangely enticing.
“Why are you scared?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.
“I don’t know how much you know about my life and what’s been going on, and I have no idea how you’re involved in any of it, but my gut is telling me you’re not someone I need to worry about.” He peers at the camera through his lashes.
On anyone else, the move would look coy or flirtatious, but I can see the fear and doubt in his gaze.
“Your gut is right,” I tell him. “I’m not someone you need to worry about.”
He blows out a breath and lifts his eyes to the ceiling as his entire body sags in what looks like relief.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re scared?” I ask.
“Yes and no.” He lets out a little snort that could be laughter but is devoid of any humor. “Yes, because I need to talk to someone before I go completely insane, but no, because then you’ll know how fucked up I am.” He furrows his brow in a way that’s far too endearing. “But then again, you already know how fucked up I am, considering what we’ve been doing.” He shakes his head like he’s physically shaking himself free of his thoughts and focuses on the camera. “But if I tell you what else is going on, then you’ll know what I did.”
“Would it help if I told you that no matter what you tell me, I won’t judge you?”
This time he’s smiling faintly when he lets out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, you say that now, but I highly doubt that’ll be true if I tell you this.”
“You’d think, but remember when I told you I’m the villain between us?”
He nods, his expression curious.
“That’s because I am. I’m incapable of judging you, so if you tell me whatever it is that’s scaring you, I’ll listen, and help if you want me to, but I won’t judge.”
“How is that possible?” He tilts his head to the side. “How can you be incapable of judging me?”
I lean back in my chair. I shouldn’t tell him this, and I’m crossing a line I won’t be able to come back from if I do, but that still isn’t enough to stop me.
“Because that’s not how I’m wired.”
