Page 73 of Half the Summer's Night
I drag the window shut, confusion twisting around in my belly. The truth is, I slept well last night, knowing Nameless was here, his gloved hand stroking my hair as I fell asleep.
I can still feel the ache of him between my legs, the sense memory of that crashing, overwhelming orgasm?—
I wrench away from the window. I don’t even know what I’m feeling at this point: guilt, fear, excitement, all three at once? It’s like a hurricane is raging around inside of me.
The body, I think vaguely. Last night, Nameless shoved the drawer closed without rearranging the body. I need to clean up any evidence.
It should sicken me. It doesn’t.
I get dressed quickly, brush my teeth, and go straight down to the examination room. Everything in the house feels normal.Undisturbed. Even the front foyer, where it all started. Where he kissed me?—
Where he killed for me.
The examination room also feels undisturbed, despite what happened here last night. It’s as cold and sterile as it always is, and nothing is obviously out of place. There’s a part of me that wonders if I made it all up. If it was just a feverish sex dream.
One way to know for sure, I think, dragging the drawer open.
And there it is. The proof. The corpse is askew, the ruin of the head practically falling off the drawer. Worse, there’s an imprint on the metal from where my ass was, plus a frozen film of arousal.
There’s no denying what happened. None whatsoever.
And yet, I feel nothing but a vague, buzzy happiness as I clean up the drawer—wiping down the metal with disinfectant and polishing it until it shines, then shifting the body back into place. The plastic sheeting is still on the floor where Nameless tossed it, and I pick it up and slide it over the corpse, and now it reallyislike nothing ever happened.
And that’s when I get the ache of sadness in my chest.
I shove the drawer shut with a clang and take a deep breath to steady myself. I have work to do. Bodies that Nameless didn’t provide for me, that he won’t expect me to violate tonight.
But god, I hope he does show up again?—
My office phone rings, startling me badly enough that I yelp and slam up against the drawers. “Fuck,” I mutter, making my way over to my office to answer. “What now?”
At least I know it’s not anything Nameless did. He was here. With me.
I pick the phone up right before it switches over to voicemail. “Abi Snow,” I say briskly, trying to keep my eyes away fromthe map on the wall. The map of Nameless’s kills, the red pins spelling outYOUR DARK.
My darkness certainly came out last night.
“Abi Snow,” says the voice on the other end. It sounds strange and distorted, like there’s something wrong with the line. For a second, I think there’s an echo. But then it says, “I know what you did.”
My entire body goes cold. I swoon a little and stumble sideways, slamming my leg into the desk.
Someone saw.
Someone saw what I did with Nameless.
No, that’s impossible. I’m the only one with access to the examination room. There are no cameras here.
“Did you hear me, you stupid bitch?”
The voice startles me back to the present. “Who is this?” I hiss, bracing myself against the table.
“Someone who knows what a filthy fucking liar you are.” The voice buzzes and crackles. “Someone who knows you deserve to suffer, just like those other two cunts.”
My panic calcifies. This isn’t about Nameless.
Those other two cunts.Is this about Olivia?
“What?” I manage to get out, my head swoony.
