Page 28 of Sinful Desires
I reached for my chips and?—
“I changed the security system. Someone tried to log in tonight.”
I screamed. A full, chest-cracking, soul-leaving-my-body scream.
The chips almost didn’t survive. I spun around so quickly I nearly took the whole counter down with me.
LeRoy stood there tapping on an iPad without even glancing up.
The screen was lit up with streams of data, numbers, graphs, and timestamps, none of which mattered nearly as much as the fact that my heart was trying to punch its way out of my chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped, clutching my plate like it was a shield. “You can’t just stalk people in the dark like some emotionally repressed shadow demon!”
He kept tapping. “I’ve contacted your building owner,” he said, voice flat. “In the past month, there have been three unauthorized attempts to access the hallway cameras. Always at night. Always targeting your floor.”
I threw my hands up. “Cool. Love that for me. Could you maybe not deliver murder statistics while I’m trying to stress-eat my feelings?”
His eyes flicked to the plate, then back to me. “You call that food?”
“I call itcoping,” I hissed. “You wouldn’t get it. You probably subsist on protein bars and silence.”
He lifted a brow. “I don’t get emotionally attached to sandwiches.”
“Oh, good,” I muttered. “Then you won’t cry when I shove this entire loaf down your throat.”
There was a pause. Just enough for the air to turn ice cold.
“You’re welcome to try, Miss Harper. But we both know you’d choke before I blinked.”
One. Two. Three seconds.
“Who says I don’t like choking?”
For the first time, he hesitated, just for a second, his finger hovering over the iPad screen.
I finished assembling my culinary abomination, pressing the chips into the peanut butter, slapping the jam slice on top. Turning back to the fridge, I yanked out my favorite apple juice and poured it into a crystal glass.
“Remind me again,” I muttered, “how long have I had to endure your existence?”
“Six months.”
“Six months of hell, and you’re still as irritating as ever,” I grumbled, setting the juice back in the fridge, my back to him.
“Six months of you complaining andI’msomehow the worst part of your life?” he replied, his voice smooth as a blade. “That’s a compliment, if I’m being honest.”
I smirked, tilting my head back to meet his cold stare. “Don’t flatter yourself. I haven’t tried toreallyget rid of you yet. Got bigger rats to deal with.”
“By rats, you mean the voices in your head?”
I took a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly, indignation spreading through my lungs like fire.
“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be mute, you sure have a lot to say tonight.”
He stepped closer. “Who else has access to your building’s security system?”
I took a long drink of my juice. “None of your business.”
“If someone’s planning to break in, drag you out of bed, and kill you, it stops beingyourbusiness, Miss Harper.”
