Page 86 of Hide and Seek
“Okay. I might stay for a bit. Not really sure. It’s comforting knowing you’re here if something were to happen.”
“Of course,” he says, striding over to me and lifting my chin before dropping his lips to mine with a brief kiss. “Any fucking time, doll.”
My cheeks flush, he’s called medolla million times over the past few weeks, and every single time without fail, it sends butterflies soaring through my stomach. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of it.
Knight leaves for work, and the moment he’s gone, I put myself through a proper shower, washing my hair and feeling like a brand-new person before rummaging through his bathroom for just a shred of moisturizing cream.
After feeling like a normal human being, I head out to the kitchen and make myself a coffee as I try to figure out my plan. The very first thing on my to do list needs to be Izzy. I can only imagine what state I’ve left her in. I need to book her a massage, some therapy, maybe get some flowers delivered and organize a mariachi band to serenade her, not that she would particularly care for all that stuff, but any apology I can muster needs to be given in a big way.
After that, I’m heading home. This bitch needs some clothes. There’s only so many days in a row I can wear nothing but one of Knight’s shirts. Surely he’s running out by now. There’s only so many shirts a man like Knight would own, and honestly, we’ve already flown straight past the number I would have assumed. It’s starting to get weird.
The rest of my day . . . I actually have no idea. I’m making it up as I go. I don’t usually wake up this early in the day. I’m a firm midday riser, especially on work nights, and I really don’t know what to do with all this spare time. It’s freaking me out.
With my coffee in hand, I make my way over to Knight’s oversized lounge and drop down into it, cringing as I take in the thirty-eight missed calls and nineteen texts. There’s even missedcalls from my brother, Emily, and my mom. Izzy must have called everyone looking for me.
My heart breaks for her, knowing how worried she must have been after what she heard last night, and I don’t make her wait another second.
I hit her number on my phone and lift it to my ear, and just like yesterday, it barely rings before her panicked tone answers. “Holy fucking shit, Harper? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” I say, guilt tearing me into shreds.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? What happened?” she demands. “I’ve called the police six times, and the bastards won’t let me file a missing person’s report until you’ve been gone for at least twenty-four hours.”
And with that, I launch into my story, telling her every single detail, right from the very start, covering every last encounter with this asshole, even going as far as to tell her about the times he’s forced me right into Knight’s arms.
The words fall out of me with ease, that is until I tell her about Laith, then the perfectly structured wall around my heart crumbles to the ground. I break into heartbroken sobs as Izzy tries to process everything that’s happening.
“No,” she tells me, disbelief thick in her tone. “That’s not possible. I was talking to Laith just last night. I texted him looking for you. He responded.”
“No,” I rush out, feeling sick at what I have to tell her. “That’s not Laith. I thought the same thing when he was texting me, but it’s not him. He’s gone. I saw him with my own eyes. He’s gone, Iz. It’s the stalker. He’s been using Laith’s phone as a means of communication with me.”
“No,” she whimpers. “He’s not dead.”
“I’m sorry, Izzy.”
She cries over the phone, and as she tries to process, I tell her the rest of my story, not stopping until I reach this very moment in time.
“I don’t even . . . I don’t know how to process all of this.”
“Believe me, I know. It’s a lot. It’s fucked up, and it terrifies me, but you need to promise me that you’ll be careful. This guy is ruthless. He’s killed four people, and I can’t have you or Knight being next.”
“Harper—”
“No, promise me, Iz,” I beg of her. “Promise that you’ll be careful. Every new person that you talk to could be him. Just keep your eyes open, and then tonight, I can come to your place, or you can come here, and we can just process everything and cry.”
“Cry. Yeah, I think I’ve already started.”
“Me too,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks.
“You really have no idea who this guy is?”
“Not even a little. He’s like a ghost that just shows up to terrorize me and then slinks away the moment he’s satisfied.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
I scoff. “Yeah.”
“Why do I have to work right now?” she says. “I’m sorry this is happening, Harper. I wish I had known, or that you felt like you could have told me. We were in the club and he was right there.” I can almost hear as the shivers sail down her spine. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, okay? He’s going to have to go through me before he gets to you.”
