AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Regret weighs me down as I move back down his drive, headed for my house. I let him touch me. I never let men touch me. Not since November 6th, 2006, had a man gotten close, and I’d allowed this asshole the first unbridled touch.
I’d given him something I’ve been denying others for years. I’m so fucking mad I can’t even think straight.
“Carina, wait,” Ryker calls, running after me. He grabs my arm and twirls me around.
“Don’t touch me!” I shout, backing away from him.
He looks at me in bewilderment. I know what he sees. He sees my scars floating on the surface before I drag them back down, tying them off with an anchor so they’ll stay put.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. I wanted to apologize. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that none of the footage has a man in your home, Carina. I’ve seen you talking to yourself multiple times on camera, though.”
My mouth drops open, gaping like a fish out of water. “What?” I mouth, wrapping my mind around his words slowly.
You’ll never be able to hide from me, little one.
His words flip through my mind on repeat as I grapple with the gravity behind them. He’s deleted himself from the footage somehow.
“I know some people who could help. If you want me to put you in touch with them, that is. When you’re ready, of course.”
Ryker moves to touch my arm, and I back away from him, hurt plastered over my features.
“You think I’m crazy? You’re a detective, you’ve seen the worst in humanity. You’ve seen what these criminals can do to hide, and yet you think I’m the crazy one?”
He winces, as ifIwounded him. “I don’t like to use that term. I think you’re coping with something deep and it’s coming across in hallucinations. The human mind is vast and a highly misunderstood thing. It heals in all different ways. But I want to help. I care about you,” he says.
His words are like ice as they slither down my spine, leaving an icky, sick feeling in their wake. My stomach rolls, and vomit threatens at the back of my throat. I fight it down.
Throwing my hand out, I say, “Give me your phone.”
He raises an eyebrow as his eyes move to the stool next to me where it’s lying. I snatch it, opening it and deleting my camera feed from his phone. When I get home, I’ll change the password to my system, and he won’t be able to spy on me again.
“I wasn’t looking to spy on you,” he admits, taking the phone back.
“I won’t be bothering you again with anything. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, you’ve been an amazing neighbor,” I tell him coldly.
“Carina, don’t be like that.” He moves for me, but I turn and walk toward my house to unpack my office belongings and settle in for work tomorrow. One can only hope it goes better than being in the office.
I’m still pissed off I won’t be where I can stir up Emery and Conner, but I’ll have to adjust my plan to fit with their narrative if this is how they want to play. I’ve been paid off once, I won’t fucking do it again.
* * *
After getting settled into my home office, I showered and ate a microwave dinner. Now, I’m on the couch, surrounded by cats with my glass of wine, ready for a night of de-stressing with Netflix. I click on Supernatural to continue where I left off when Emery was here. I growl at the fact I let him into my house and at the fact I’d been unnerved by an attraction to him. Inwardly, I’d wondered if he changed. If he’d only fucked up the night I’d had my run-in with him. That’s making light of what happened to call it that, though.
I guzzle down my glass and grab the bottle of wine from the coffee table, deciding I don’t need a glass and setting it down instead.
I’d stupidly almost been caught in a web of Emery Stanner’s making. Again!
Aren’t you supposed to be de-stressing?
My head is right. I need to fucking drop it for right now. Dealing with my past, present, and neighbor all in one day has amped me up. I’m not one for confrontation, so handling Ryker earlier had been a lot for me mentally. I plan to drown the constant replay in my head of the event with the entire bottle of cheap Pino.
When the bottle’s done, I let my head lounge back on the couch, Tigger purring as he paws at my hair absently. It helps to settle me, until I finally answer the call of slumber and drift off.
“Don’t be afraid,” Emery says, but his eyes are glassed over, and rage is the only thing living in them as he holds me by my hair.
It hurts, and I want to scream, but I don’t want to embolden him. He’s taller than me, and more massive in every way. Not only that, but I haven’t had enough food today to fight. Father’s back in jail, and the landlord had all our stuff out on the curb when I came home. I’d hoped Father had at least paid the rent before he’d gone in, but he hadn’t.
The Westpoint House has always been my safe haven when shit like this happens, or when Father was too drunk to deal with. He’s a mean drunk, and he doesn’t care who he hits, he wants to beat someone. So, when I run, I run here. It seems now that my safe haven is going to turn into a new kind of hell. One I haven’t experienced yet.
