Chapter 22 #3
I locked the door and tried not to hyperventilate at Sky existing behind me. When I turned, he stood at the farthest edge of the tiny landing, hands loose at his sides, something like relief softening his features.
This was stupid. On multiple levels. Sky was in my house, and I suddenly remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. A flush crept up my neck, and I turned my shoulder to him, hoping he hadn’t noticed the…uh, chilly temperature situation.
“Take your shoes off,” I said, for lack of anything more profound, and brushed past him to mount the stairs.
I heard the rustle as he followed my instructions, then his soft steps behind me. Panic licked at me, but I squeezed the mace and made myself keep breathing.
Too late to push the alien back out now. I had no choice but to trust he didn’t mean me any harm. At the very least, if he did, I would hope that aliens could also be incapacitated by chemical sprays.
The thought had me practically sprinting the last few stairs, and at the top, I snatched up my phone and whirled. Clutching it to my chest, I backed away and watched Sky follow me into the living space.
He was impossible to read right now. His eyes stayed on mine for a beat before sliding away to scan my apartment.
They lingered on the pizza box beside the empty wine bottle on the counter then traveled to the hand-me-down couch, the cluttered coffee table stacked with my laptop, study notes, and too many empty mugs.
The janky lamp cast a soft yellow light over everything.
My modest apartment felt much smaller with him in it. Even beyond the whole alien thing, it felt…odd having Sky here, in my space. My mess. My chaos.
If I’d known I would be having extraterrestrial guests tonight, maybe I’d have cleaned up. A hysterical snicker threatened to bubble up.
By the time Sky’s eyes returned to mine, I had the mace raised. “Okay. You wanted to talk. Here’s your chance.”
He lifted his hands slightly in an I’m-a-harmless-alien gesture. “I meant what I said. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You come in peace?” I snorted. “Original.”
I thought it was funny, but he didn’t seem amused. His lips pressed into a tight line. His voice, however, still had that maddening calm tone. “Raven, I know this is a lot to take in. But this is serious.”
“Oh, trust me, I get it.” I jerked my chin up, tightening my grip. I lifted my phone with my other hand. “I will call the police if you don’t start talking. You’ve got five seconds to give me a reason I shouldn’t spray you and run until someone carts you off to…to wherever the new Area 51 is.”
Sky’s temple bulged like he was grinding his teeth. Streaks of drying rain glistened on his forehead and cheeks, and he dragged a hand down his face once more, not quite masking his quiet, frustrated grunt. “Okay. Okay, I get it. Just give me a second…”
Once a second passed, I hoisted the phone and mace higher in warning.
“Okay.” He raised his palms again, took a slow step sideways, and braced a hip against the kitchen counter. Folding his arms, he stood there, watching me. Drips slid from his clothes and pooled on the laminate flooring in a steady plop-plop.
“All right,” he said at last, and I snapped my attention up. His brows were drawn, his expression guarded but determined. Like he’d braced himself for something. “I’ll tell you everything I can.”
This was it. My heart pounded. My insides dipped and climbed like 747-sized butterflies were taking off. Despite the chill in the air, a bead of nervous sweat slid down my spine beneath the tank top and cardigan. I flexed my death grip on the phone.
I wasn’t even sure why I was holding it. Would the police even be able to help me if I called them and told them there was an alien in my living room? They’d probably write me off as crazy.
I was close to doing the same.
Meanwhile, Sky’s gaze had gone distant, his posture rigid, like he was fighting some internal war.
The scent of leather and rain filled the room.
Another shiver wracked my limbs, and a clap of thunder shook the walls.
In its wake, the silence grew heavier until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I opened my mouth—
Sky cut me off. “What I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room.”
Predictable, but still. I narrowed my eyes. “Can’t leave the room? So if I tell someone, what, you’re going to abduct me? Kill me? Or like those guards at the university—”
“Will you stop?” His voice cracked like a whip, sharper than I’d ever heard him speak. It was so uncharacteristic, I actually jerked and snapped my mouth shut. As if he caught my flinch—and regretted it—he swore softly, looking away and muttering, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”
Barely daring to breathe, I stared at him. Somebody should’ve given the murderous robot that memo.
That heavy silence fell again. When he turned his head back toward me, his midnight-blue eyes churned with something that rivaled the storm outside. “I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said, a lot more softly this time.
Tilting my head to the side, I contemplated him with my lip between my teeth. This really was a different person, a shift from the laid-back, polite bartender. Voice lodged somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, I bobbed my head again in a nod. I still didn’t lower the mace, though.
His attention flicked to it, then back to my face, and he rolled his shoulders like he could shake off his tension. The anticipation was killing me. I tried hard to look like someone who didn’t have one foot in a full-blown panic spiral.
“Like I was saying.” Sky cleared his throat. “What I’m about to tell you has to stay here. Between us. Not because I’m going to kill you otherwise,” he added with faint sarcasm, one brow twitching. “But for your own safety.”
My own safety? If not from him, then from whom?
I started to ask just that, only to have him derail my train of thought.
“Raven,” he said, his voice low but vibrating with intensity, his dark gaze slicing right through me. “You are in serious danger.”