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I run my thumb over the note, over the letter scrawled at the bottom. K. The first letter of that name on the motorcycle jacket I saw at the hospital.
Whether it’s from lack of sleep or shock, it hadn’t been clear to me until now. Someone was here. Someone came into my house while I slept. And not just anyone—the one-eyed man who escaped the hospital. It has to be him. Anything else is too coincidental. The thought fills my veins with horror and something even more insidious. Excitement.
Something deeply dark and disturbing stirs in my chest as I think back to how he looked spread on the hospital bed. He was weak then but still held more physical prowess than any other man I’ve encountered. It makes me wonder what I’d have done if I woke up and saw him at the foot of my bed. Watching me.
With shuddering knees, I step over to the kitchen and place the bag of worms in the trash. I watch the bag squirm for a few minutes, trying to make sense of the gesture. It could be construed as ominous, but the note said it was for my pet. My closest “pet” is Herb, and if somehow he saw me feeding him, then…
I snatch the bag from the trash and step over to the window. Forcing it open, I rip a beak-sized hole in the top of the bag and place it on the sill. Immediately, Herb stuffs his beak in and pulls out three pink worms. He fluffs himself, his beady eyes shining as if proud of his catch.
“I guess you do like them…” I watch, mesmerized, as he gobbles down two more. I guess the present really wasn’t an ominous warning. Sure, it’s fucked up in all the wrong ways, but to someone deeply psychologically disturbed, I guess this could be seen as a… sweet gesture? I don’t have the strength to unpack it now, that’s for damn sure.
Leaving Herb to his bag of worms, I walk into the bathroom, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. Turning the shower as hot as it will go, I step into the tub, barely registering the singe as the water rains down on my skin. The stream thunders against my shoulders, washing away some of my anxiety and leaving me pruned and numb.
I should be calling the cops right now instead of enjoying my shower, but something stops me. Some part of me—that twisted, fucked-up part of my soul—is dying to see what happens if I let this situation play out.
God, what is wrong with me?
Pressing my forehead against the steering wheel of my Honda, I let out a loud sigh and close my eyes tight against the morning sun. After the shitstorm this morning, I’m in no mood for my twelve-hour shift.
A light tapping sound draws my attention to the window, and I come face-to-face with Drew’s golden gaze. His dark brown hair sways as he motions for me to roll the window down, and I oblige, fixing my face into a less devastating expression.
“Lilly! Are you okay?”
“Hey, Drew. What’s up?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight quiver in my voice.
He always manages to pop up at the most inconvenient moments. And just what the hell is he doing in the parking lot at this time, anyway? Due to seniority, Drew always takes the first shift, so why isn’t he inside right now? I glance around the parking lot but don’t see his car anywhere in the back lot. Huh, weird.
“I was just heading inside and noticed you sitting in your car all bent over…you doing okay?” he questions.
“Just peachy.” I turn off the engine and ignore that warning twinge in my gut. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night. I probably look like hell.”
“Hey! Don’t say that! You’re one of the most beautiful women I know. I happen to find your bags endearing.” He shoots me a wink.
I cock my brow. “You know, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, Drew.”
His face falls slightly, and I almost feel bad. Maybe he was just trying to give me a friendly compliment.
“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping out onto the concrete next to him. He towers over me, and I have to jut my chin up to the sky to see into his golden eyes. “Guess I’m just not used to compliments.”
“Well, there’s way more where it came from.” The glare from his bright white veneers nearly blinds me as he smiles down at me.
I cringe internally. I like Drew a lot, but only as a friend. In my gut, I know he’s wanted more from me for a while, but I’m no closer to giving it to him than the first day we met. I’m just not interested in taking things further than friendship with him or any other man.
Growing up, when all my friends experimented with their sexuality, all I cared about was getting through my ancient Gray’s Anatomy text so I could increase my chances of getting into medical school. The thought of dating and small talk makes me nauseous, so the effort and time it would take to lose my virginity has never been worth it to me. Maybe I’ll worry about it when I’m done with my intern year, but until then, I don’t have time to entertain anything other than friendship.
“I was thinking we could hang out this weekend? You know, outside the hospital…”
Before I have time to shoot him down, a small white pigeon lands on top of my car, drawing my attention away from Drew. It lets out a little coo and pecks at the rubber lining of the door, probably searching for food.
And this is why I say pigeons rely on us.
I’m about to remark how adorably dumb they are when Drew swings his fist at the little bird. “Get out of here! Fucking rat with wings,” he snarls, attempting to hit it out of the sky as it takes flight.
“What are you doing?” I cry, grabbing his arm and hauling it back down to his side. “He wasn’t hurting anyone.”
"They're disgusting, pea-brained vermin." Drew scoffs, his brow raised in surprise. "You should be thanking me. It could have shit on your car."
I blink, trying to understand where all this anger came from. It was just a bird.
