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“Don’t,” I said, setting my phone down and willing my gaze up and away from the mouthwatering package. “Don’t risk losing this interview. She might know something useful.”
Gabriel looked at me again, a hand in his pocket. I briefly imagined him bending down, meeting my lips with his, kissing me a quick but passionate goodbye.
He licked his lips and nodded. “Fine. Please call me for anything. Put the alarm on when I leave.”
“I will.”
Shit. Was he going to kiss me? Was he leaning down? Should I lean up? Should I—nope. He gave me a smile and turned to leave, closing and locking the door behind him and leaving me in complete silence. I got up from the couch and went over to the alarm system on the wall, taking off the cover and tapping in the password to set it on. It gave a reassuring beep, and a nice woman’s voice alerted me that the system was armed.
There. I had nothing to worry about now. I could relax now, and I could finally get some damn words down. My deadlines were coming up, so I had to capitalize on whatever bursts of inspiration I was able to get.
Back on the couch, I put my feet up on the footstool and opened my laptop to my manuscript, imagining a bunch of virtual cobwebs being dusted away into a cloud of ones and zeroes. I read a couple of pages’ worth of my previous work so I could slip back into the world. It was easy for me today, as opposed to the weeks of struggle I had previously. I played some music low in the background and got to work, letting the words flow out of me, not concerned with anything but the story and these characters.
It was cathartic. Therapeutic. I had been scared I’d lost my spark entirely, but that wasn’t true, and I doubted it could ever be true. Writing was as big a part of me as my heart was. I wouldn’t be here without one or the other. It was just facts—
A loud creak made my head snap up, my eyes darting to the hallway directly across from me.
What the hell was that?
I lowered the music some more. Craned my neck to the side. The sun-drenched hallway was empty, the doors to the bedrooms and bathrooms all shut.
It was probably the wind. This was an older house. It could creak at the slightest little movement. Could have been my music, too.
I replayed the song, listening for the creak.
Nothing.
Okay, so it wasn’t my song. It had to be the wind. I looked over at the alarm system, the light flashing a bright ruby red. It was just me in this house, no one else. I had no reason to be scared.
Except for the fact that I was currently being targeted by a sadistic killer who had successfully murdered six gay men and women before me.
Yeah… no reason to be scared at all.
I went back to typing. The sentences formed at a slower pace now that my concentration had been broken. The words weren’t flowing like they hadbeforecreepy thoughts of serial killers slipped into my mind.
I decided I needed a glass of water. I shut my laptop and set it down on the coffee table before I paused. The case was cracked. I never remembered dropping this laptop or even taking the case off to clean it, so how did that crack happen? It was at the corner of the smooth black plastic. I ran a thumb over it.
Another creak. I looked back to the empty hallway. Had it come from one of the bedrooms? I considered calling Gabriel but for what? A random noise in his house? Again, the alarm hadn’t gone off—no one could have made their way into the house. I was alone.
Totally alone.
My attention returned to my laptop. I could have hit it against something without noticing. Unless… I pushed up at the corners of the case and popped the plastic shell off my laptop.
Something fell to the floor. It looked like a piece of paper. But it wasn’t. I knew exactly what it was before I picked it up, my hand already shaking, my breakfast shooting up to get lodged in my throat.
Another tracker. He had slipped one into my laptop case, likely assuming a writer never went far without it. Fuck, shit fuck holy shit fuck. Fuuuuck!
The doorbell rang and made me jump, dropping the tracker to the floor. I hurriedly bent down and picked it up again, snapping it in half. Not like it would do me any good. The Midnight Chemist likely knew exactly where I’d been this entire time.
Shit, shit, fucking shit.
Another doorbell ring chimed through the house. It must have been Noah and Eric. I breathed a quick sigh of relief and went to the door. I glanced through the peephole just to make sure, spotting my best friends on the other side, smiling faces waiting for me.
I flipped open the alarm case and went to put in the password. But I was so shaken and scared from my discovery that I messed up the numbers. The alarm angrily beeped at me and reset itself.
“One second,” I said through the door.
“No worries,” Noah answered.
