Page 51 of Look My Way
My heart stutters and I look out the window, staring so hard I think my sharp gaze will break the glass at any minute. No one is there, no matter how long I look. Setting down my phone, I fill my kettle and place it on the stove, letting the water heat while slipping on some comfortable clothes.
The kettle whistles and I check for any movement out the window—for a pair of black boots, leather gloves, or two dark eyes staring my way. There’s nothing. I open the back door and hang halfway outside, circling my gaze around the shed, and then my eyes land on a piece of white paper sticking out of my cilantro plant.
Pulse dancing under my skin, I saunter toward it and unfold the note as soon as it touches my fingers. My eyes move up and down the paper as I read over the two sentences.
Paint me something pretty, carino.I just know whatever you leave behind for me will make me smile.
Sitting on top of the dirt where I found the note is a blank stone. I lift it up and blow a breath over the other side until it’s clean. The surface is smooth and wide, with so much space for me to work with. The shape looks similar to . . . to . . . Can it be?
Clutching the stone between my fingers, I rush back inside and head straight for my office. The stones Zavier brought me the other day are next to my computer where I last left them, with one missing. Did I miscount?He was here. You already know he was. You didn’t imagine it all. He wasn’t a hallucination, and neither is the heavy rock in your hand.
The notes in my drawer where I put the new addition aren’t either. One even leaves a paper cut on one of my fingers as I read them over. The words don’t change. Wouldn’t they if I was seeing things?
Tucking the folded papers back in my secret place, I close the drawer and walk back to the kitchen to grab a mug. The water’s still hot when I pour it out, and I let it sit a while before adding an orange-spice tea bag
The sweet, spicy scent hits my nose as I lift my mug to my lips, and the hot drink slides down my throat. Not even seconds go by before I find myself gazing out the window again—still no one there.
Why would he be when he said he wouldn’t be able to stop by around this time? Why do I need him to be? Maybe because what we have at night is no longer enough for me. I crave it this morning too, and hours later I crave it in the afternoon. When dinner time rolls around, I’m finishing up my first read through as Daniel enters my office.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey.” My eyes stay on my computer screen, and I push my glasses up my nose. “You actually came like you said for once.”
“Hey now, sweet thing. Don’t be like that. You know I’m here when I can be. I’m doing my best here.” His hands rest on my shoulder as he gets closer, his fingers pressing into my tense muscles.
“Yeah. I know.” I let out a small breath, turning to face him. “How about I cook you something tonight? Your favorite.”
“Sure. You remember what that is?” He cocks his head. “It has been a while.”
“Of course.” My lips press into a plastic smile. “Shrimp fettuccine.”
“Yup.” Kneeling down a little, he pecks my lips, and as much as I want to wipe it away as soon as he straightens his back, I don’t, still forcing a smile.
“I thought you’d stop by for lunch today.”
“Yeah. I wanted to but today was a shitshow.”
“Yeah?” I swish my chair from side to side, lifting my head higher. “Anything you’re allowed to talk about?”
“I mean, you’ll hear about it soon anyway. Just don’t go saying anything until it’s aired on the news.”
“What is it?” I sit up taller, pressing my palms to the arms of my chair.
“Another missing guy.” His expression is flat, eyes emotionless. Like no one’s there when he’s saying it and it’s coming from some automated message. “You should know so you can be more cautious when you have to leave the house. This whole thing has officially crossed into our precinct and the guy’s live-in boyfriend reported him missing this morning.”
“Red hair and blue eyes?” My chest heaves as he nods.
“I really think it’s best you stay home this week and not leave the house unless you really have to. I’m not so sure about Zack coming over anymore either . . . at least not while this monster remains at large.”
“Zaiver,” I say with a sneer. “And the man is harmless.”
“You don’t know that. These victims might have thought the same thing.”
“Look, he’s been here like three times already and had plenty of opportunities to shove me into his trunk if he wanted to.” Excitement shoots up my spine at the thought of Zavier shoving me into his car while I’m asleep, but I squash it. Not now, Liam, you weirdo.
What the hell is wrong with me? Do I really want that?
Daniel is right, I don’t know what Zavier’s capable of. What if he’s waiting for the right moment? He stalks me but I also ask him to. I ask him to do these things, so if this all makes him some deranged serial killer, then what am I?
