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“I will. Thank you. And the quieter the better; I hate crowds.”
She blushes, ducking her head. “Me too.”
I smile at her, finding her adorable, before turning to Jordan. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I just have a busy couple of weeks and didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“It’s fine. We were only going to sit in and watch movies, and we can do that when we get back. Thank you for having us, and tell Levi I said thank you, too.”
“And that I promise to try and relax the next time I see him,” Rosie adds.
“Don’t push yourself. Just do what you feel is comfortable. But I do promise you neither Levi, Mark, nor Banner would ever hurt you. Mark and Banner are bigger built than Levi, and have more tattoos, but they’d sooner cut off their arm than hurt a girl.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and something passes between us. Sometimes when she looks at me, I wonder if she knows we’ve been through something similar, except hers was much worse and a lot more horrific.
I wave them off, and just as I’m about to turn inside, a chill runs down my spine. I look around the darkening street, seeing no one that stands out, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, telling me otherwise.
I quickly close the door, grateful the residents of the building need a key fob to get inside. I rush up the stairs, to the first floor, and into our flat, slamming the door shut behind me.
The feeling still doesn’t go away, so I head to my bedroom, where I can spend the rest of the evening tucked up in bed waiting for Banner to get back.
Something isn’t right here in Whithall. There’s been a series of rapes, and now women are getting murdered. It’s frightening to know something so heinous, so tragic, could happen so close to home. It breaks my heart knowing families are losing loved ones.
However, the sick feeling I get in my stomach when I feel someone watching me, is different, like I know who the person watching me is.
A sense of foreboding creeps up my spine, screaming at me that I won’t like what’s to come.
That I’m once again trapped inside my own prison, only almost free.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wednesday comes around quickly, and before I know it, I’m leaving the house to go and meet Becky. We’re going to meet at the university and walk over to the all-night café close by.
It snowed the night before, leaving a dust of flakes on the ground. I pull my scarf up higher when the cold night air hits my cheeks.
I should have stayed at home. It’s freezing.
The walk isn’t far, but I’m regretting not taking up Banner’s offer to drive me. I would have said yes but I didn’t want him out on the roads, not in this weather.
A snowflake twirls through the air in front of me, promising more to come. We may have four seasons, but we never have them in the months we’re supposed to. It’s going to be spring soon and instead of sun and flowers springing from the ground, all we have is rain or snow.
I’m nearing the pathway that leads to the English building when I feel eyes watching me from outside my field of vision. I scan the darkened path subtly, not seeing anything. But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t there. I can feel their eyes on me, sizing me up.
Being thoroughly aware that girls are being found murdered, and knowing Darren is out there, walking free, has only fed my paranoia. I feel like I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting an attack to happen at any moment.
Footsteps creeping behind me, crunching in the snow, have me moving at a faster pace. The pathways have been gritted, so whoever it is must be walking in the grass, hiding behind the bushes.
My heart begins to race, my breath puffing out like a cloud of smoke in front of me as I begin to jog, my stomach twisting in knots.
Just as I’m about to enter the courtyard outside our building, a dark figure kicks off the wall. I come to a sudden stop, nearly tripping over my own feet when I see who is standing right in front of me. I feel the blood drain from my face, bile rising in my throat at the sight of my nightmare.
Darren looks different, nothing like the skinny, pale kid I remember him being. He’s put on weight and muscle, looking healthier than I’ve ever seen him. No longer does he have red eyes with dark circles under them. His skin even has colour.
“Emma.”
I take a step back, my hand going into my pocket to get my phone. If I thought I wouldn’t collapse after a few steps, I would run home. As it is, I don’t want to risk him finding out where I live or have him near me when I’m vulnerable.
“What are you doing here?” I ask shakily, holding one for Banner’s speed dial.
“Please don’t—I just want to talk,” he assures me, taking a step closer, his hands up.
