Page 103 of Hide and Seek
HARPER-RAYN
Heavy thumping against the door has my eyes springing open into the bright sunshine of Tuesday morning, and I immediately groan, pulling my blanket up over my head and realizing that I got played . . . again.
My stalker never showed, and that’s just one more time that Knight gets to say that I’m obviously crazy.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, cringing as I drag my hand over my swollen eyes and press a little too hard on the lingering bruises. Though at this point, I don’t really think they’re lingering. They’re basically a permanent fixture on my face. No sign that they’re going away anytime soon. I look like Frankenstein’s monster.
I spent the majority of my night crying into a tub of Oreo ice cream, and at twenty-eight years old, I can finally understand what it feels like to experience heartbreak. Sure, I had my fair share of breakups over the years, but I’ve always been theasshole causing the hurt. I’ve never been on this side of the pain before. It’s a deep, soul-crushing ache, and without a doubt, I know this is the kind of pain that will leave scars.
There are so many things I could have dealt with in a relationship. Not seeing eye to eye on everything isn’t a problem. It’s human nature, but this was too big. Knowing that the time I was in his arms, crying against his chest as the agony of performing Laith’s autopsy crippled me, he was assuming I was going crazy. Or when I was bleeding in his bathroom after having my wrists and ankles bound and a knife sliced through my skin like butter, he was wondering which asylum he should stick me in. It kills me.
I thought he was better than that.
My heavy eyes close, and I do what I can to block out the pain. It took me all night to finally get to sleep, and when I did, I think it was from pure exhaustion, not because I was magically capable of turning off the pain. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to turn it off. This pain will follow me around for the rest of my life. And now at every family function, I will see him. I’ll have to watch as he eventually moves past this and lets someone else in. I’ll have to sit idly by as he brings her to all of Mom’s ridiculous dinner parties, and then one day, I’ll receive an invitation in the mail that will gut me.
Loud thumping rumbles through my apartment, and my eyes spring open again, reminding me that someone is at the door, and I groan, throwing my blanket back. It’s probably Izzy coming to tell me all about getting railed on her date last night.
I pull myself up to stand, needing to brace my hand against the mattress as I get up, and as I walk through my small apartment, I can’t help but notice that the pain from the surgery isn’t so bad this morning. Or perhaps my heartbreak outweighs the agony of being jumped in a back alley, drowning it out.
Just my luck, right?
Making it out of my bedroom and into the living room, I beeline straight for the door, and as I reach for the bolts and chains locking me in, I realize that during my sob-fest last night, I didn’t even remember to lock the door.
How fucking stupid could I be? Though if my stalker had actually shown up and taken me out, I probably would have thanked him for making the pain stop. Knowing my luck, I probably would have taken the agony right into the afterlife with me like a badge of dishonor, doomed to wallow in everything Knight Slater for all eternity.
Taking the door handle, I give a quick twist before yanking it open, fully expecting to find Izzy. Only as I stand in the open doorway, I stare up at a face I never thought I’d see again.
I suck in a breath, shaking my head, my body going weak with every passing second. “No,” I breathe, my brows pinching together as my heart starts to race. It’s not possible. This can’t be happening.
“Holy fuck, tiger. You look like shit,” Laith says, staring at me with deep concern. “Why are your eyes all red and puffy like that? Have you been crying?”
“No, you’re . . . You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Dead? What the fuck meds did they put you on? Are you good, babe?”
He goes to reach for me, his palm aimed toward my forehead, and I spring back out of the way, fear gripping me in a chokehold. “Don’t touch me!”
Laith immediately pulls back, looking at me as though I’m the one who’s lost her mind, and all I can do is stare right back, my eyes wide as unease pounds through my veins.
How is he here? I did his autopsy. I cut the clothes off his body and cried against his chest, grieving for my lost friend. That agony and loss was too real to have imagined it, and yet, here he is, standing before me as though not a damn thing happened.
Laith looks at me as though he’s staring at a ghost, but truth be told, I’m the one staring at a ghost. This shouldn’t be real. He shouldn’t be standing here before me in a suit, looking as though he’s about to take his ass off to work.
“Woah, tiger. Calm down,” he says, inching closer again, his hands up as if to show that he means me no harm, but that’s not even close to what’s got me spooked. “Is everything okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”
I shake my head, unable to make sense of what the hell is going on. How could he be here like this, standing before me as though he didn’t just die last week? As though I didn’t feel the chill of his dead body. As though I didn’t close up the body bag and slide him into locker thirty-six.
No. Is Knight right? Have I imagined all of this? Have I worked up some elaborate story in my head? No, it’s not possible. I felt his cool, dead body beneath my fingers. Felt the sharp bite of my stalker’s blade as it cut into my skin. The word left on my ribs is proof of it. So how the hell is Laith here? Has this just been some big, sick joke?
“No,” I tell Laith, putting my hand up to stop him coming into my apartment. “You’re not real. You can’t be here. I saw . . . I saw your body.”
“What?” he says, his face scrunched with confusion. “Babe, what’s going on? I just came to check on you. You’ve been acting weird, and I’ve been trying to give you space to figure out your shit with this new guy, but now you’re being all flirty in your texts again, telling me you wanted to see me, so I figured that was over. I just . . . Are you good?”
I can barely make out the words falling from his mouth as my mind takes me away, swirling with endless possibilities. Laith is dead. I know it with every fiber of my soul, but this person in my doorway . . .
Is this my stalker? Is this him beneath the mask?
He goes to creep toward me, and I jump back again, terror gripping me as my head spins. “STAY AWAY FROM ME.”
