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“I’m going to try,” she says. “Dex has so much work to do but I might be able to get a day or two off. He can be a tyrant, you know.” She says this as if she’s not the tyrant at work, keeping Dex in line. “The minute anything gets worse, the second you think you’re in trouble or you don’t trust Jay, you let me know. Yell, phone, text. Anything. I’ll be here as quick as I can.”
I take in a deep breath, hoping it doesn’t have to come to that. Hoping that I am doing the right thing after all is said and done.
“I promise,” I tell her.
But as the Highlander goes down the street, disappearing around the corner, I feel loss in my chest, a solid, heavy thing. It’s not just that I care about Perry more than anything, that I miss her when she’s gone.
It’s that the fear is creeping back in.
Inch by inch.
The hairs at the back of my neck rise, a cold rush flowing through me. I slowly turn around, afraid to look where I want to look, my bedroom window. Afraid that I’ll see something there.
Watching me.
But there isn’t anything. Just the reflection of the tree on the glass.
I exhale loudly and head back inside, grateful to hear my dad puttering around in the kitchen. He’s busying himself, which is what he usually does after Perry leaves and right now it’s bringing me comfort to know he’s home, that I’m not alone, even if in many ways I am.
I’m not sure what to do about my room though. Dex seemed to sleep in there without any incident, otherwise I’m sure we would have heard about it, but now that it’s just me, and after I learned all that shit with Jay and Jacob, I’m not sure if I want to step foot in there ever again.
“Dad,” I say to him as I pass by the kitchen.
“Mmm?” he asks, cleaning out the fridge that probably doesn’t need to be cleaned out.
“I think I’m going to move back into my old bedroom,” I tell him.
He pauses and peers at me. I have his attention now. “Why?”
I shrug, not sure he’d buy my “I think it’s a portal to Hell” story. “It doesn’t seem right. You know, Perry comes by quite often and it doesn’t feel right having her sleep in my old room. And, I don’t know. It’s just never felt like mine.”
He studies me. I know he doesn’t believe me but I also know he wouldn’t dare ask for the truth. “You know the house could sell any day,” he points out. “Do you want to bother moving twice? I mean, you can do what you want, Ada. But I won’t be helping you. There’s enough to do around here as it is.”
I nod, not sure if I’m even brave enough to start moving shit alone. I may have to sequester the help of someone next door.
I make my way upstairs, needing a shower something fierce, even though all my good clothes are in the bedroom.
For a few moments I stare at the door handle, wondering what I’ll find when I open the door. What if I run in there and the door shuts on me and I’m trapped? Would I call for Jay? Would he just appear in my room? What if he was occupied—he did say he couldn’t watch me all the time. Does that mean he can’t respond all the time? Was he even aware of what I was doing right now?
Good lord, could he somehow watch me in the shower?
Has he been?
Odd thoughts to have and normally I wouldn’t even entertain that notion since Jacobs are immortal guardians, something above and beyond human, but I had caught Jay staring at my ass last night. And I could have sworn there was some sort of heat behind his eyes, as if he liked what he was seeing.
Well if you can hear or see this, I think to myself, mind your own business.
I decide to skip my bedroom completely and get something to wear from the other room. Then I get in the bathroom and take a one hell of a long shower, trying to wash the last few days from my skin. Naturally even taking a shower is fucking terrifying and I refuse to draw the curtain across the tub out of pure paranoia. Thanks, Hitchcock.
When I’m finally clean, my hair dried and straightened, I’ve got a hefty dose of makeup on, and a black shitkicker boots and olive green sundress combo going, I start to work up the nerve of approaching Jay. I don’t have his cell phone or anything like that so there’s nothing to do but go next door.
But just as I’m heading down the stairs, there’s a knock at the front door.
