I slipped the page into my pocket, glancing around the room again. I had enough for what I needed to bring back to my boss, but I wasn’t done yet.
The bed loomed in the center of the room, the blankets pulled tight, the pillows perfectly fluffed. I crossed the space, running my fingers along the edge of the duvet, feeling the softness beneath my hands. The thought of her lying there at night, completely unaware I had been so close, made my blood hum. I leaned down,pressing my hand against the pillow, imagining her head resting there, her honey-blonde hair spread out like a halo.
I pulled back the blanket, slipping under the covers and turning my face into the pillow. It smelled like her hair.
What I wouldn’t give to cut some off and have it for myself.
My eyes drifted to her dresser and I jumped up, one of the drawers slightly ajar. I couldn’t help myself. I slid one open, my fingers brushing against the neatly folded clothes inside. Tank tops, soft and worn, still holding her scent. I let it fall back into the drawer, my fingers trailing over the lace of her underwear, delicate and intimate.
My lip snarled at the thought of her wearing these for Aiden. He shouldn’t like these types of things.
She didn’t know I was here, touching her things, rifling through her life like it was mine to explore. I was in her space, her private world, and she was completely unaware. The thought was intoxicating.
She didn’t know how close I was. How easy it would be to find her, to get her alone. To make her pay for what she was digging into.
I moved to the closet, opening the door to reveal rows of clothes hung neatly in place. I ran my hands over the hangers until I saw it.
The red tube top.
The one with the wordPsychoslashed across the chest in silver rhinestones, still slightly crumpled like she’d peeled it off. I remembered it clinging to her back the night at the cemetery, soaked with heat, the fabric damp against her skin. I could still see the curve of her shoulder as she pulled her hair into a knot, exposing the line of her neck. The moment Aiden had ripped it off and tied it around her face.
I slipped it from the hanger and pressed it to my face, the heat of it imagined but real enough. The place her breasts had been pressed against, the way it clung to her face as she yelled out in pleasure.
I could almost taste her. The salt. The soft perfume. Something inside me cracked.
I wasn’t leaving empty-handed. Not this time.
But if I was going to take something, I needed to give something back. A gift. A reminder.
I dug into my coat pocket and pulled it out: the tiny porcelain cat. It was chipped and missing an eye, once part of a set I’d stolen from a neighbor years ago. I wondered if she liked cats. I wanted to know everything about her.
I carried the cat to her nightstand and set it down next to her phone charger—close enough that she’d knock it over when she reached for her phone one morning. I smiled at the thought.
Would she scream? Freeze? Would she finally understand that someone had been here, watching her, close enough to touch her dreams?
I looked around the room again, making sure the hangers were undisturbed and the bed unwrinkled. But the shirt was mine now. It belonged with me. I tucked it inside my jacket, close to my chest.
Then I turned to the door.
As I slipped out of the room, the door clicked shut behind me with a hush like a secret. The tank top was still warm against my ribs. The slip of paper burned a hole in my pocket. Her world was cracking open.
And soon, she’d realize—she’d already let me in.
Chapter 36
Aiden
Afew days had passed since the start of this chaos, and I woke up next to Evie, the quiet of the morning settling over us.
Not that she knew it.
I had come in late last night after working, only stopping in my room long enough to change before cracking open her door and slipping inside to fall into bed with her. She had barely stirred, moving enough to wrap herself around me.
The sun was already streaming in the windows and I reached for my phone, knocking over a little cat figure in the process.
“What the fuck,” I mumbled, reaching over and putting it back upright. I couldn’t place when Evie would have suddenly become obsessed with cats, but with her I could never keep up with the newest fascination. The little knickknacks around her room were evidence of that.
I opened my camera, smiling as I took a photo of me and a sleeping Evie.
