Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Ghostly footsteps circle my mind. I can’t sleep until it’s done.
No matter how bad I want to. My eye lids flutter heavily, my body restless with the need of sleep.
But the need of my routine drives me forward.
I throw the covers back, wiggling my feet into my slippers and head for the door.
Even down here, the hallway is darker at night than it ever is during the day.
Only the bright red exit signs cast a shred of glow to light my way into my nightly routine.
I walk to the end of the hall, careful to keep my slippers light.
Bear’s snore sounds from the farthest door against the end, gravel in a blender more like.
But that’s my signal— if Bear can sleep, everyone thinks they’re safe.
I don’t open his door; I don’t have to. The sound alone tells me he’s alive.
But I tug the nob anyway. Locked. Good. The second door is Nina’s.
I don’t knock. I never do. I just rest my fingers against the handle and ease it down quietly until the latch releases.
Her television glows blue against her face. She fell asleep on the couch again, the maroon velvet swallowing her deeply as her chest softly rises and falls. I close it carefully and reset the latch without letting it click.
Cici’s door is next. I pause outside it longer than the others.
I always do. I don’t mean to. My hand just stays there on the wood.
I open it a fraction, listening for her heavy breathing.
A lamp still glows softly beside the beige sectional.
She forgot to turn it off again. I step inside and switch it off.
I leave, going down the line and checking handles. Greer’s room faintly blooms with pop music, as it does every night. Polaroids are taped around her room— clubs, bars, rooftops, and random strangers beside her in each image. It’s never the same people twice.
Greer loves attention where I spend most of my time trying to avoid it.
I head to the elevator, to the ground floor.
The entrance doors are latched. I peer at the guards through the tall windows, the parking-lot glow casting shadows off their positions.
Back entrance latched. Ana’s office locked.
I return to the elevator, pressing the G button.
Garage doors are secure. Top and bottom lock.
Chain. I tug on it once. The chain gives a faint metal whisper. Secure.
I trudge back to the elevator and press the button to our floor. The doors chime open.
In the darkness, a voice calls out. “You missed one.”
I don’t jump, but my hand slips to the knife at my hip before my brain catches up “How long have you been standing there?” I ask quietly.
Nyx leans against the wooden beam, arms folded, barely visible except for his silhouette, traced by the faint light from the elevator. “Long enough to know you do this every night.”
I say nothing, but I feel the heat blooming in my cheeks anyway. Good thing we’re in the dark.
He nods to the left. I follow his gaze to the stairwell door.
I already checked that, didn’t I? I walk over and test it.
It shifts a quarter inch upward. My stomach drops as I begin to open my mouth and scold myself but I snap it shut.
My brain screaming at me instead. I lock it, pressing in the HQ code and push hard until it seals.
Nyx says nothing. No teasing or questions.
I move to walk past him to the hall. He falls into step beside me.
We reach the end, and I tug on Bear’s door. Locked.
Nyx checks the handle after me, repeating the motion silently. We continue down the line. At Jett’s door, I lower the handle quietly and relatch it. Nyx watches, then gently presses the door once with his palm, making sure it’s seated in the frame.
We reach Jasper’s door. I hesitate, opening it a fraction to look. Behind me, I hear the fainted shift of his boots, as he turns his back to the doorway, standing guard in the hall while I check inside. I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until I step back out and it leaves my lungs.
I close the door. Nyx gives the handle a final, careful pull. Secure.
We reach my room, stopping at the door. I don’t know what to do. Because the rounds are over, but I’m not ready to sleep. Nyx looks down the hallway once more, then back at me. “You can rest.” he murmurs. I shake my head a little, twisting my tee. “Not yet.”
He nods once, then he moves past me, walking back down the hall toward the stairwell door. I watch him check the locks. Top and bottom. Three times.
He turns, rounding the corner. “I’ve got it,” he whispers gently. He punches in my code, pushing the door open, darkness enveloping a pathway. “I’ve got it.” He repeats. I step inside, and nod.
Nyx’s hand slides up the door frame, careful not to lean in. His eyes find mine. Neither of us says anything. The hallway suddenly feels too small. Too quiet. Just him standing on one side of the threshold and me on the other. Waiting.
His gaze drifts slowly over my face, lingering long enough to make my pulse stumble.
Not possessive or demanding. Just there.
Like he’s memorizing something he’ll never ask to keep.
I rub the back of my arm once, unable to break our stare.
My stomach twists as every instinct I’ve spent years sharpening tells me to retreat, to lock the door, to put another wall between us.
But Nyx doesn’t move. Just a wordless expression that he knows this battle isn’t with him.
For a second, I wonder what would happen if I closed the distance myself.
The thought hits hard enough to steal my breath.
My insides painfully aware I haven’t kissed a man in almost fifteen years.
Nyx’s gaze drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes.
The stone-faced man I’ve spent the last three years working with is gone, replaced by something raw.
Then, he takes a single step backward and the air returns to my lungs.
The gesture settles somewhere deep beneath my ribs.
“I’ve got you,” he says quietly. Not the door. Me.
I swallow hard, closing the door a little too quickly. A faint push against the handle outside makes the door creak. He checked mine. I walk to bed, then climb into it, stretching out like a barn cat in the hay. I don’t fall asleep right away, but I do stop listening for footsteps.
We pull into the gas station, Devin gently squeezing my hand as jumps out to pop the gas lid open. “I’ll be right back,” he says, planting a quick kiss to my lips.
I scroll on my phone as I wait, humming to the radio.
A horn suddenly beeps beside me, a large F250 slowly squeals to a stop.
Devin’s friend rolls down his window and tosses me a wave before turning to Devin.
I can’t hear what they’re saying from inside, but I wave back and continue to search my feed.
The driver-side door creaks open as Devin steps back in, warming his hands in front of the vent. He smiles tightly, nodding a goodbye to his buddies. Then through clenched teeth he turns and asks, “Why were you looking at them?”
I shake my head, confused. “He beeped the horn and waved? I just waved back; I didn’t want to ignore your friend?”
His strained smile drops as the truck disappears. “Oh, so you not only stared at him but you waved to him too.” Devin jerks the truck into drive, spinning wildly out from the gas pump.
I grip the console with one hand, and the side of my seat with the other. I’m frantically looking from him to the approaching road. “It wasn’t like that, Devin, I was just being nice! Slow down!”
The tires screech as we enter the highway, the speedometer already at sixty.
“So, you’re just nice and flirt with everyone now is that it?
You can be so sweet to everyone but me! I’m nothing but a piece of shit to you.
And you do nothing but embarrass me acting like a damn whore!
” he roars, driving his fist into the radio.
I shield my face as plastic bursts out. The truck reaches one hundred, swerving around cars carelessly in our way.
A sob breaks from me. I close my eyes begging God to save me.
“I’m sorry, Devin, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, just please slow down.
” I desperately grasp for my seat belt, dread sickening me as my hands reach at nothing.
My seat belt is broken; he ripped it out the last time he got like this...
I lean back tightly into the seat, tears streaming down my face.
“Damn right you won’t do it again. You’re gonna learn, Florence. One way or another.”
The alarm blares, jolting me awake, but my body lies frozen, allowing my morning ritual to take place.
I lie quietly as my tremors rattle the headboard; my body molded tightly into a ball.
A groan rolls in my throat as the shaking begins to cease, then I stretch my constricted limbs, enjoying each pop as I roll onto my back and stare up at the distant oak ceiling.
I forgot Nyx and I sent a joint text with the schedule last night after we left Billy’s for the schedule, and thankfully everyone responded with a thumbs-up this morning, except for Bear who the team threatened to block if he didn’t behave.
Stifling a yawn, I sit up, pulling the covers back, and fling my feet over the bed. I rummage through my drawers, opting for a large beige Rhonda Vincent hoodie and a pair of burgundy spandex.