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The knife.

The fruit.

The tray left outside my bathroom.

My throat tightened I pulled the shirt free, leaving the hanger to swing wildly, then stop. The scent hit harder this time. Alaric. A slow breath escaped me. Then another. I pressed the fabric against my chest. The ache eased instantly. That alone should’ve terrified me.

Instead I folded the shirt carefully over my arms and headed for the door. I’d bring it back later, right? Just hold onto it for an hour. Just to ease the ache. That’s all this was. I told myself that, that I’d bring the shirt back later. The lie followed me all the way back to my room. Haunting me with every step.

The wind howled as I stepped back into my bedroom. The frigid air whistling through a crack somewhere in the window. I clutched the shirt tighter and closed the door, then looked down to the rolled sleeves he left behind.

This was wrong.

People don’t do this kind of thing.

I crossed my bedroom and sat on the sofa under the window.

People don’t creep through someone’s house. Touch their things. Take their things.

I lifted his shirt and inhaled.

“Oh, God.”

A shudder moved deep.

Again.

His words resounded in my head as I pressed the fabric to my face. That ache rose once more. There was no denying this anymore, was there? I was well past pretence now. Past pretending this wasn’t something I wanted. I opened my eyes. Past pretending I didn’t want him.

Movement came from the corner of my eye. I lowered the shirt, then reached for the sheer curtains. Trees and an anxious sky waited. Wind tore around the pines strong enough to make them sway.

A dark blur caught my eye, the shape of a… a man.

But when I jerked my gaze toward it.

It was gone.

But it was there, right?

My breath caught. I straightened.

I didn’t imagine that.

I know I didn’t.

There.

There it is again.

Panic rose as the shadow shifted again beside another tree.

I shoved up from sofa. Gripped the shirt and glanced behind me.

Alaric’s knife sat on the dresser beside the bed.

Close enough to touch you means close enough to bleed.

I rose, walked over and picked up the knife. The moment I did that terror inside me settled. Turning harder. Colder. I’d not let that bastard take another thing from me. So I walked back over to the sofa and I sat down. This time Alaric shirt in one hand and his blade in the other.