Page 24 of His to Keep
She may not like me, but she most definitely feels safer with me here, and that’s got me feeling some kind of way.
The quiet her absence leaves is heavy in a way I don’t want to examine too closely. I’m not sure what’s in the air tonight, but we’re both off. I’m on a mean tear, and she's fucking infuriating, refusing to take my bait.
I don’t know when or where or how she did it, but she's managed to work her way under my skin. Hell, she’s in my veins, racing through me like some kind of… I don’t know… poison.
I need to purge her from my system, but I don't know how. Thanks to Atlas and Nora, our lives are hopelessly intertwined.
“Not going anywhere, Princess,” I mutter, even though she’s long gone.
I fire off a quick text to Atlas letting him know everything’s okay before standing and gathering our trash—the untouched cinnamon pull-aparts included—and bagging it all up.
As soon as I open the back door, the cool night air wraps itself around me, clinging to my skin. Any other time, I’d enjoy the feel of it but tonight, I’m too fucking frustrated thanks to tension lingering in the house.
I’d bail if I could—okay, that’s a damn lie, but I’m going to pretend I mean it. Because admitting that I jumped at the chance to be here tonight, even to myself, is more than I can handle right now.
So yeah, I’m going to keep telling myself that I’m only here because Ihaveto be. Not because Iwantto be. Certainly notbecause I’mworriedabout Little Miss Satan and her stalker situation. And damn sure not because I enjoy bickering with her.
The fact that she’s good with James, that helovesher only adds insult to injury. Her ease with him honestly surprised the fuck out of me. Despite knowing she works with expectant mothers, I figured she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, what with her being a spawn of Satan and all. But it’s true, my dude loves her, and while I might not get it, I also maybe, kind of, sort of do.
What can I say? It’s complicated. I’m complicated.She’s complicated.
An owl hoots in the distance as I toss the trash into the can. The nighttime quiet out here is one of my favorite things. Aside from the crickets, frogs, and occasional birds, there’s an almost unnatural stillness.
Which is why the sound of a stick snapping in the distance may as well be gunshot.
I freeze in place, my eyes laser focused in the direction the sound came from. Just like the other day in town, I can practicallyfeelsomeone watching me, their imaginary eyes an unwanted physical caress. It makes me skin crawl.
“Anyone there?” I holler, wishing like hell I was armed. “Make yourself known.”
Aside from the owl in the woods and the rustling of the leaves, there’s nothing. Complete and utter silence.
I scan the backyard thoroughly before making my way around the side of the house, and then to the front. There’s nothing. No footprints, no shadows, not a single thing out of place.
“It was probably a deer,” I mutter, scanning the tree line one last time before heading back inside, determined to put all of these ludicrous thoughts—of someone lurking in the shadowsandall of the weirdness with Scarlet—behind me.
Inside, the house is quiet, and the kitchen and living room are both still empty. So, naturally, I lock the doors, front and back, and then creep down the hall toward James’s room.
Why am I creeping? Who the fuck knows, but I’m committed at this point.
The door’s cracked open enough that I can see them while staying out of sight. She’s in the rocking chair with James cradled to her chest as she softly pats his bottom while reading to him.Goodnight Moon, a gift from me, thank you very much.
I don’t know why the sight of her reading a book I purchased chaps my ass, but it does. Everything about her does. She’s like… a fly. Annoying as fuck, always in your face. You know, if a fly had great tits.
“Oh, sweet little love.” Her voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it as she talks to him. “You’re such a perfect little angel. Let’s get you tucked in, yeah?”
That’s my cue…
I take off down the hall, unwilling to be caught lurking like a creep. Fuck that. Scarlet would have a field day with it, and I’d never live it down.
Dishes. I bolt into the kitchen and start rinsing the few plates and cups in the sink, before loading them into the dishwasher.
Rookie move, because with my back to the hall and the sound of the water, I don’t hear her coming. A blessing and a curse, because, good god,nothingcould’ve prepared me for the sight of her dressed down in her pajamas, if you can even call them that.
If I thought her black sweats and crop top earlier were tempting, the sad excuse for shorts and a tank top she’s calling clothes right now is downright sinful.
A swimsuit would cover more.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asks, looking at me like I have three heads.
