Chapter 1 #2
I thought back to those glowing yellow eyes in the darkness and the low growls that vibrated down to my bones.
Cal might’ve been a stranger, but at least he wasn’t a wild animal.
I figured my chances of defending myself against a man were a lot better than some beast that wanted to eat me.
Besides, there was something inviting about Cal, and it wasn’t just his handsome face.
“Fine,” I replied, hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life. “I’ll come upstairs.”
Cal’s lips curled into a warm smile. “Follow me then.”
I trailed after Cal up the stairs, glancing back once at the darkness outside. Was it my imagination, or were those yellow eyes watching us from the shadows again? I shuddered and hurried to catch up.
"You really think there's something out there attacking pets?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as we climbed the stairs.
"I know there is." His response was firm, certain. "Mrs. Chen in 1A lost her tabby last week. Found what was left by the dumpsters."
Jesus. That was not what I needed to hear right before trying to sleep.
Cal led me down the hall to 3F, which was on the opposite end from my apartment. He unlocked the door with a practiced motion. There was no jiggle-and-curse required for him. Then he stepped aside to let me in first.
I hesitated at the threshold. Was I really going to sleep in a handsome stranger's apartment because my roommate was getting some and I was too stubborn to wear earplugs?
Yes. Yes I was.
The apartment had the same layout as mine, but that's where the similarities ended.
While my place was cluttered with Tara's fashion magazines and my sad collection of coffee-stained work shirts, Cal's apartment was almost unnervingly neat.
The furniture was minimal but solid. There was a leather couch, a heavy wooden coffee table that looked handmade, and shelves lined with books and what appeared to be carved wooden figures.
"Nice place," I said, suddenly self-conscious about the disaster zone I called home.
Cal shrugged, closing and locking the door behind us. I noticed he used both the deadbolt and a sliding chain. "It's quiet and the walls are thick. That's what matters."
The kitchen was spotless, not a dirty dish in sight. On the counter sat a bowl of fruit that actually looked fresh, not the aspirational kind I bought and watched rot.
"You want something to drink? Water? Tea?" He moved with surprising grace for someone so large, opening a cabinet to reveal an impressive collection of tea boxes.
"Water's fine," I replied, still taking in the apartment.
There were no personal photos anywhere, no mess, no sign that the place was really lived in.
If it weren't for the woodworking tools carefully arranged on a side table and the well-worn paperbacks, I might have thought he'd just moved in yesterday.
He handed me a glass of water, our fingers brushing. His skin was unnaturally warm.
"You're burning up," I said without thinking, then immediately regretted it. "Sorry, not my business."
"I run hot," he replied simply, glancing out the window once more where the full moon hung in the sky. "Always have."
An awkward silence fell between us. I sipped my water, wondering what the hell I was doing here. This guy was a stranger, regardless of how safe he made me feel for some inexplicable reason.
"The couch pulls out," Cal said, setting his own glass down. "I'll get you some sheets."
He disappeared down the hallway, and I took the opportunity to look at the wooden figures more closely. They were animals, mostly wolves, carved with incredible detail. I picked one up, a sleek wolf with its head thrown back, caught mid-howl. The craftsmanship was remarkable.
"Those are just a hobby," Cal said, returning with a stack of neatly folded sheets and a pillow that looked better than the one on my actual bed.
I set the wolf down carefully. "They're beautiful. You made these?"
He nodded, setting the bedding on the couch. "Helps me focus. Keeps my hands busy."
"You're really talented," I said, meaning it. "You could sell these."
Something flickered across his face… discomfort, maybe? "I don't like drawing attention."
That tracked with the sparse apartment and the fact I'd never seen him around before. Cal seemed like the type of guy who moved through the world trying not to be noticed, which seemed impossible given how he looked.
I helped him pull out the sofa bed, which was in way better condition than the one I'd slept on in my parents' basement during holiday visits. He moved with practiced efficiency, tucking in corners and fluffing the pillow like he'd done this before.
"You make a habit of rescuing strays?" I asked, only half-joking.
Cal's expression softened slightly. "Only ones as cute as you." He froze for a moment, seemingly surprised by his own words. “Forget I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
I should have been worried, but I was too busy listening to the sound of my heart skip a beat. He thought I was cute? How could that be possible? Men who looked like Cal didn’t notice guys like me. Had that been the real reason he invited me up to his apartment? What was he planning?
"Bathroom's down the hall if you need it," he said, stepping back from the now-made bed. "I'll be in my room. Door stays closed at night."
That was an odd thing to specify, but I just nodded, deciding to play it cool. "Thanks for this. Seriously."
"Lock the door when you leave in the morning if I'm not up." He started toward his bedroom, then paused. "What time do you work?"
"Opening shift. I have to be there at six."
He frowned slightly. "I'll walk you to your car."
"At five in the morning? I'm a big boy, I can manage."
Cal's jaw tightened. "Humor me."
Something in his tone made me not want to argue. He was fiercely… protective for a guy I’d just met. "Fine. Whatever. Five a.m. escort service it is."
He nodded once, seemingly satisfied, and disappeared into his bedroom. The door shut firmly behind him, followed by the distinct sound of a lock clicking into place.
Well, that was reassuring. At least there was a locked door between us for the night.
A part of me was glad to have it, but another part of me, the part that hadn’t gotten laid in months, was annoyed he didn’t at least try to have his way with me.
Oh well though. I only had a few hours until work anyway. Best to get some sleep.
I changed into the t-shirt I had stuffed in my backpack and settled onto the pull-out bed. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the sheets smelled clean, like laundry detergent and something woodsy and pleasant.
Despite the strange circumstances, I felt oddly comfortable there.
As I drifted toward sleep, my mind kept returning to those glowing eyes in the darkness.
Had I really seen something, or was I just exhausted and imagining things?
And what about Cal? He seemed convinced there was something dangerous lurking outside.
Something worse than a coyote, he'd said. Whatever it was though, I knew it wasn’t going to find me on the third floor in the middle of the night, that was certain.
And, if there really was a problem, animal control would get it taken care of.
Wild animals didn’t last long in the city.
With that reassuring thought, I slipped into unconsciousness, all of my worries locked safely behind doors.
I woke up with a start sometime in the middle of the night, disoriented in the unfamiliar darkness. It took me a moment to remember I was in Cal's apartment, on his pull-out couch. The digital clock on his microwave read 3:17 AM.
What had woken me?
Then I heard it… a low, rumbling sound coming from behind Cal's bedroom door. Not quite a snore, more like... a growl? I sat up, straining to listen. The sound came again, followed by what seemed like scratching against wood.
"Cal?" I called softly, not wanting to wake him if he was just having a nightmare.
The sounds stopped abruptly. Complete silence fell over the apartment.
"You okay in there?" I tried again, my voice barely above a whisper.
No response, but I could have sworn I heard movement. It was something heavy shifting on the other side of the door. I slid out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. The rational part of my brain told me to mind my own business and go back to sleep, but curiosity pushed me forward.
I padded quietly across the living room, stopping a few feet from Cal's bedroom door. The moonlight streaming through the window cast long shadows across the floor.
"Cal?" I said again, a little louder this time.
A thump came from inside the room, followed by what sounded like heavy breathing. Then Cal's voice, rough and strained. "Go back to sleep, Evan. I'm fine."
He didn't sound fine. He sounded like he was in pain.
"Are you sick? Do you need anything?"
"I said I'm fine." His voice was sharper now, almost a bark. "Please. Just go back to sleep."
I hesitated, hand halfway to the doorknob. Something told me I shouldn't push this. Whatever was happening behind that door, Cal clearly wanted to handle it alone.
"Okay," I said finally. "But if you need anything—"
"I won't," he cut me off. Then, softer. "Thank you."
I retreated to the pull-out bed, but sleep wouldn't come.
I lay there listening to the occasional sounds from Cal's room—shuffling movements, once a thud like something heavy falling, and that strange rumbling growl again.
Every once in a while I thought I heard metal clinking across the floor… almost like… chains?