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Some had me laughing.
I kept turning the pages. There were more and more of myself, and as I continued to flip pages, things somehow managed to get creepier.
There were some of me sleeping. In fact, it was the night I’d fallen asleep when Ares had come over. I was under the blanket I’d put on.
My heart raced, sketches of me eating on the next page. I was at the school and sitting at a lunch table by myself. I was in the hall and at my locker. There were just tons of me living life, but none of this felt flattering.
It felt obsessive.
Toward the end of the sketchbook a folder fell out, and that’s when I stepped back. There weren’t just sketches of me.
There were pictures.
Actual shots were taken of me. Bru and I were mostly in these. They had to have been recent because my brother looked thinner. Some were at school, but others…
Were in my house.
There were photos inside with my brother and me on the couch. They were all from the same angle, our living room. They had timestamps like they were screenshots off a recording.
I was completely fucking shaking at this point. Especially when I looked up. A spot had been left where the sketchbook had been and tucked in it was a DVD. It was labeled two words: Sloane’s House.
Oh my God.
“Why are you in here?”
Ares Mallick stood at the door of his father’s office.
But he didn’t have his eyes on me.
He was looking at what was in my hands, the folder, sketchbook, and some of the photos. He was blinking rapidly, and when our gazes clashed, he stepped forward.
I stepped back. “What is this?”
A swallow flicked his throat.
And he wasn’t talking fast enough.
“What the fuck is this?” I waved the evidence. “Why do you have all this and a DVD of my house, Ares?”
But it wasn’t just my house. He had it in my house.
I wondered for how long.
Ares stared at me, his hands coming up and locking over his head. “I can explain.”
What could he explain?
How could he possibly?
This looked like he was… obsessed with me. I stepped back. “This is some stalker shit, Ares.”
“I know what it looks like—”
“This doesn’t just look it.” I threw it all in his face, all of it exploding all over the floor. The sketchbook and folder, the photos… My throat tightened. “Are you like in love with me or something?”
He blanched. Like it was really so far-fetched that I’d said such a thing. He raised his hands. “No, and if you would just calm down, I’ll tell you what all this is.”
I couldn’t calm down. I was freaked the hell out, so no. I couldn’t fucking calm down.
