Naomi #3
“Is everything okay, Ms. Blaine?” Douglas’s voice sounds distant as blood rushes in my ears. My eyes scan the text, and the words send a fresh surge of adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Unknown:
What a hero. Look at him, off to save the day.
Ya know, I’ve always wondered how long it takes for a superhero to bleed out. Tell Security everything is fine, or we’ll find out.
“Ms. Blaine?” Douglas calls again, his voice pulling me back.
“Y-Yes. Everything’s fine,” I lie, my voice shaky as I hang up on him without another word. My fingers fly across the screen, scrambling to hold on to what little sanity I have left..
Naomi:
Okay I told them. Please don’t!
No reply.
Christian’s warning to stay put echoes in my mind, but panic overrides reason. I kick off my heels and bolt out of the car, sprinting barefoot toward the dark patch of trees where I last saw him.
“Christian!” I scream, my voice trembling.
No answer.
“Christian!” I yell again, my chest tightening with each step.
“CHRISTIAN!” I scream louder, my voice echoing into the night. A twig snaps somewhere behind the trees, and my heart starts to pound as I squint into the darkness, catching sight of a figure lurking in the shadows.
The figure shifts slightly, a glint of something flashes in the moonlight, but I can’t quite make out what it is.
Something about it feels wrong, a quiet warning carried on the wind.
Whatever it is, it’s too still, and it’s watching me as much as I’m watching it.
My next breath claws at my throat for release, terror rooting me to the ground.
“Naomi!” Christian’s voice echoes, frantic. He bursts out the night's rolling fog like a freight train, grabbing me and pulling me into his arms. His wild eyes rake over me, scanning my body. “Are you okay?” he practically shouts, his breathing heavy. “What happened? Did you see something?”
I shake my head, my voice unsteady. “No. No, I’m okay,” I pant, though my eyes dart back toward the tree line. I don’t see anything this time. Whatever it was, is gone now.
“Holy fuck, Naomi!” he exhales, anger and relief mingling in his tone. “You scared the shit outta me. I told you to stay in the damn car.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just… I didn’t see you, and I got worried.”
He exhales as he shakes his head, pulling me closer. “You’re so damn cute. Worried about me already, Mrs. Cavanaugh?”
“Well, when my husband decides to run into the night without caution, sometimes I have to worry a little extra, Mr. Cavanaugh,” I quip, my lips tugging into a soft pout.
He chuckles, tucking me under his arm. “No need to worry your pretty little head. I’ll always be fine,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Headlights descend, illuminating us as Douglas pulls up in the security car. He parks in front of Christian’s SUV and steps out, his youthful face full of concern.
“I know you said everything was okay, Ms. Blaine, but I needed to make sure,” Douglas says, glancing between us.
Still wrapped in Christian’s arm, I smile, reaching out to squeeze Douglas’s hand. “Thank you, Doug. I appreciate you, but as you can see, I’m fine. Just a car alarm issue, that’s all.”
The paper mache smile stays plastered on my face, even as my skin prickles. I feel him out there...somewhere.
“Yeah, Doug, all good. You can head back now,” Christian says, his tone clipped.
Doug doesn’t flinch, though. If anything, his spine stiffens as he glares right back, defiance sparking in his young eyes. The crease between his brows deepens, concern etched into his expression when his gaze dips to my bare feet.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, Ms. Blaine?” he asks again, ignoring Christian's comment with a deliberate emphasis on my name.
“Everything’s fine, Doug,” I reassure him, chuckling softly.
“All right. I’ll head back to Lawrence before he has a heart attack,” he says with a grin, his braces flashing in the headlights.
Christian watches him leave, tension radiating off him until the security car disappears down the driveway. After he walks me to my door, his lips brushing against mine in a lingering goodnight kiss that curdled like spoiled milk in my stomach.
Why does being around him feel like this?
Why can’t I get back the spark I felt with him when we first met?
“You sure you don’t want me to come in?” he asks, his thumb sweeping over my cheek.
“No, it’s fine.” I close my eyes, placing my hand on top of his. “I’m really tired. I’m just going to get some sleep.”
“Okay, Butterfly. Call me if you need me to come back.” He gives me another quick peck before hopping in his car and driving off.
Once inside, I lock the door behind me, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. I twirl the engagement ring on my finger as my thoughts race. Tonight had been too much—too intense, but I try my best to shut out the sense of dread sitting like a rock in the center of my chest.
Heading to the kitchen, I grab an apple from the fruit basket, taking a bite. But before I can even swallow, my phone vibrates again.
Unknown:
What a good little liar you are. Will you lie to your fiancé about us too?
Naomi:
There is no us!
Unknown:
Oh, but that's where you're wrong…
My chest tightens as the words stare back at me.. My thumb hovers over the screen, as millions of responses rush through my mind, but before I can type anything, another message comes through.
Unknown:
I know how much this excites you. Tell me, how wet did our little game make you?
I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself, fear and a deep, unsettling shame swirling inside me. But I push it away, twisting it into something that feels right—anger. I type furiously, throwing all caution to the wind.
Naomi:
You sick fuck, leave me alone!
I’ll be damned if I let this psycho make me feel unsafe in my own home. But their startling response is almost instant.
Unknown:
Such a filthy mouth, Naomi. Keep talking like that, and I might just come in there and put that mouth to better use. Go ahead—dare me.
I freeze, air getting lodged in my throat. No. There’s no way. He wouldn’t actually—
But something urges me to look anyway, to be sure. Slowly, I move to the kitchen window, my hands trembling as I nudge the curtain aside. The faint glow from the motion light barely reaches beyond the garage, but just far enough to see him.
Standing there.
Watching.
Waiting.