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Thirty-Eight
Skye
It was still darkness when I stirred, part of me aware that something wasn’t right. My skin prickled in alarm. Somewhere in sleep, I had felt the warning.
I opened my eyes in the darkness. On my side, my body was wrapped around Leo’s arms, my hand cradled in Hunter’s warm palm. His forehead was touching mine, while Leo’s face was buried in my hair. They were out to the world, their breaths long and steady.
For a moment I stayed still, vaguely aware I was wearing Hunter’s black shirt; he must have dressed me in it after I’d fallen asleep. Their scents collided all around me, distinct and delicious. Hunter’s grip was loose, his forehead warm, his breaths hitting my face. I could feel Leo’s parted mouth through my hair, skirting along the back of my neck. For a brief moment, hidden behind the warning bells ringing, I had never felt such peace before. I felt an ache in my chest so deep. I yearned for their mouths again, for their hands, for them to taste me and pleasure me—
A creak crashed through my thoughts, and the yearning died in its wake. I flinched, my face turning toward the sound, my heart battering in my chest because…someone was here. Their presence hung in the air, piercing the silence like a knife.
I thought maybe this was sleep paralysis all over again. Like the kind I had for many nights after I’d flung myself out of that moving car. Like the nights I spent half-awake after the shooting at the fish and chip shop. Maybe it was in my head. My body felt frozen, after all. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. That feeling of being watched made my skin prickle, made my chest constrict with terror.
Yes, this was sleep paralysis. It had to be.
I took a few deep breaths, shutting my eyes, trying to drift back to sleep.
Except I heard a creak again, closer than before, and this time when I opened my eyes, I saw it…
I saw the figure in the dark, standing before the end of the bed, looking at us.
My heart thudded heavily in my chest as my eyes connected with the man’s. He was in all black, his face covered. But I could feel his eyes on me. We stared at each other for some time, saying nothing.
Then he spoke. “Get up.”
My breaths came out in pants. I physically couldn’t get up. I shook, trying to shake my head—
“Get. Up.” He repeated slowly, his voice louder this time.
I felt Leo’s body stir, his movements languid still. My pants sped up as a tiny whimper escaped my lips—
“What the fuck?” Leo cursed suddenly, his body now jolting awake beside me. He detached from my body, sitting up quickly as he repeated, “What the fuck?”
Voices sounded out; words exchanged in a different language.French. There was more than one man here.
The light suddenly flicked on, and I blinked rapidly as multiple heavy footsteps sounded all around the room. Leo covered my body with the blanket, shielding me with his body as he growled, “If you’re here to rob the place, it isn’t ours. We’re just guests—”
The man standing at the front of the bed spoke over him in French, talking to a figure that was moving around the room.
“Hey, man,” Leo said again, “you listening to me? We don’t live here—”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man interrupted. “You speak when we speak to you. Understand?”
Leo didn’t respond.
Body still tight, I tried my best to move. My limbs felt heavy as that terror continued to flow through me. “L-Leo?” I managed out, staring at the back of his head.
He turned to look at me, his blue eyes loaded with a dark emotion I wasn’t used to seeing. “Shh, now.”
The footsteps continued around the room as the man barked orders that I didn’t understand. The drawers all around us crashed open, the items inside strewn on the floor. I heard our bags in the corner getting unzipped, heard my make-up bottles crash along the hardwood floor. It sounded like they were searching for something, but they moved so quickly, it seemed more like they were messing up the place—
“If you’re looking for money, I’ll save you the trouble. We got nothing.” I startled at Hunter’s voice, sounding calm. He had been so still, I didn’t think he’d woken up.
There was a moment of stillness before the man said, “I never walk away from a job empty handed.”
Hunter sat up slowly. I could see him briefly from where I lay. The side of his face was visible to me; grim and serious, he said, “I got a truck out front. The keys are in the kitchen—”
The man cut him off with a laugh. He murmured something in French that made the other two men around him chuckle. Then he replied, “I don’t want your fucking truck.”
