Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BLAKE
I wake as the late afternoon sun streams through the blinds. I’m in a stranger’s bed and should be panicking, but instead I’m experiencing an odd mix of disorientation and restfulness. I can’t remember the last time I slept that hard.
The other side of the bed is empty but there’s still an indent from where he slept. I reach out and brush my hand over the spot but pull back quickly. What’s wrong with me? Am I wishing for him to still be in bed with me? That would be insane.
“Morning, Angel, or I guess afternoon.” I jump back at the sound of his deep voice. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was letting you sleep a little longer.”
He’s leaning against the far wall, holding his phone in one hand at his side. Sadly his chest is covered by a clean shirt and he’s wearing a pair of low slung gray sweats. Can’t forget about his trusty mask. Seeing him there, by the light of day, is nothing short of surreal.
“Last night felt like a dream, a nightmarish fever dream,” I say, stretching my arms over my head. I realize how badly I need a shower, a toothbrush, and some deodorant. “How’s your friend?”
He sits on the edge of the bed beside me, overwhelming me with his masculine smell—like he’s fresh out of the shower. It’s subtle and natural, nothing like Ethan’s cologne. “He’s doing alright. Still in pain, but he was up and about this morning. All because of you.”
I can’t help the small grin that lifts the corners of my lips. “I’m glad he’s okay. Still not happy about you breaking into my house and kidnapping me. Not cool at all.” I poke his chest to punctuate each word but he grabs my hand.
“I think you liked it,” he says, rubbing circles on my palm. God, that feels good. I’m ashamed at how my body reacts to him. I pull my hand away before whatever this is goes too far.
“No… I can assure you I didn’t.” I inch away from his thick thighs. Those sweats that leave little to the imagination.
“You can’t tell me our little game of hide and seek didn’t soak your panties, Blake. That you weren’t hoping I’d find you and punish you for running.” My mouth goes dry and I stop my eyes from fluttering closed. No. I hadn’t thought about him punishing me. Not at all. “That’s what I thought.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I argue.
“You didn’t have to. I can read you like a book.” He pulls his mask up a few inches, showing off his chiseled jawline and perfectly shaped lips. My breath catches as he leans closer. “I can tell when your pulse is fluttering, right here.” His lips hover over my racing pulse point. “Or when you’re holding your breath, here.” He moves lower, grazing the swell of my chest with his teeth. I let a breathy exhale slip out and feel his lips turn up against my heated skin. My head lolls back to accommodate his size as he lifts onto his knees in front of me. I’m staring at his perfect lips with all the right words spilling from them and I feel myself coming undone. “Or when you’re silently pleading for me to suck this bottom lip between my teeth.”
I whimper as he inches closer, knowing that I’d let him do it. This completely unhinged man… this stranger. I’d let him kiss me here and now in his bed. His warm breath fans across my parted lips and I close my eyes. “I know you, Blake, and with every passing day you’ll know me too.”
My eyes snap open to find him climbing off the bed. I’m mortified. I almost let him kiss me and I don’t even know his name. He pulls his mask back down and watches me from the doorframe. “I’ll bring you home after you check on him.”
I can’t meet his gaze, not after whatever that was. “You can just call me an Uber.”
“Look at me, Blake.” I hate the way his voice drips dominance. How every time he opens his mouth, I feel like I’m his to control. Well, he can’t control me. Not now, not ever. I turn my head to face the other side of the room. “Blake,” he repeats, coming closer.
“What?” I finally reply. I don’t need him climbing back on the bed again with that whole, I can read you thing.
He guides my chin, turning and lifting it to meet his gaze. I’ve never seen eyes like his. They remind me of warm honey. The black ring encircling his iris creates the most hypnotic contrast of color. I hate that he draws me in.
“The only car you’ll ever get in again will be mine. No one else carries my precious cargo.”
His fists ball at his side as he backs away to leave the room. I’m left stunned on his bed, wondering who the hell this man thinks he is to talk to me that way.
After my nameless masked lunatic drops me off, I spend at least thirty minutes soaking in the shower. His scent is all over me and it’s messing with my head. Once I’ve scrubbed him away, I can start to put yesterday out of my mind.
Mischa’s still not home. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her since before I left for the gala. It isn’t unlike her to leave town on a whim though. At least according to Brennan.
The house feels cold and empty without my brother. I miss his laugh, and the way he always teases me. He’s the only one who makes me feel safe and loved. Except for Falin, but it’s different with her. I have no idea where in the world Brennan is but I grab my phone and text him anyway.
Me: Hey, it’s been a bit. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing? Love and miss you!
I don’t expect a fast reply. Even when Brennan’s home, he’s never the best at answering messages. He’s more of a “randomly call you at 8 AM” type person. While I have my phone in hand, I scan through all the messages and emails I missed while sleeping the day away. I should have been studying for my tests at the end of the week, but now it’s late and I’m mentally drained. I send off a text to Ethan to see how he’s doing. I still have no idea what happened or why he was taken by ambulance. My guess is it had something to do with the pills. Thank God that worker interrupted him in the hallway when he did. He was acting super off.
After throwing on some comfy pajamas, I check the fridge for anything edible but shockingly it’s bare. Instead, I grab a box of the gluten free crackers I bought the other day and go back to my room. Let’s just hope none of my future patients ask me for nutritional advice. Crackers and water… The ultimate struggle meal.
I flop on my bed, scrolling social media. Ethan’s mom posted a few photos from the gala. Of course, I’m not in any of them. I never expected to be. There’s a staged photo of a few of the board members with Ethan and his parents. Where was I when this was taken? Thinking of the gala brings me back to everything that happened afterwards.
I Google the number for the Willowbrook non-emergency police line and stare at it. There’s no reason for me to be hesitating, yet I am. Their names and faces may be a mystery, but I know the color of his car and maybe I could lead them to the apartment?
Swiping the Google search away, I open Maps and attempt to figure out a possible address for the place. It was dark both times and I was conveniently distracted. Let’s say I don’t call. The worst thing that can happen is I walk away slightly traumatized but weirdly exhilarated. I wouldn’t be implicated in a breaking and entering for Dr. Porter’s office and I’ll have successfully worked on my first gunshot wound.
Groaning, I close the apps. Who am I kidding? I knew all along that I wouldn’t call. Whatever trouble those guys are in, I don’t want to add to it. Despite the whole kidnapping and criminal behavior situation, they seemed like nice enough guys. Kind of goofy if I’m being honest. Which is probably why one of them ended up shot.
And Freddy, or whatever his name is, thinking he’s all tough and domineering. Like he knows me so well. He doesn’t. There’s no way someone I’ve never met can claim to know me.
My phone vibrates and I pick it up. There’s a text from an unknown number.
845-555-0912: Check your front door.
A wave of panic twists my gut. After last night, there’s no way I’m going to unlock the door for anyone.
Me: Who is this?
I force myself to head down the hall and peek out the window. It’s too dark to see anything, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s there. My pulse is erratic as I wait for a response.
845-555-0912: Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?
I read over the message as a gif of a Ghostface mask is sent.
845-555-0912: If you’re going to call me a horror movie character, I’d much rather Ghostface than Freddy. Wink emoji.
What the hell? This man is unhinged, but for some reason I’m grinning like a fool. I go to the front door and crack it open. There’s no sign of him or his car, but there’s a paper bag, closed with a piece of string. I grab it quickly, then shut and lock the door.
I’m afraid to look inside the bag. Flashes from the movie Seven creep into my mind. Brad Pitt hysterically yelling, “What’s in the box?” It could be body parts for all I know.
Taking a deep breath, I pull the string and peek inside. No body parts. There’s a few different takeout containers, a hard seltzer, an organic juice blend, and a card. Whatever’s in the containers smells amazing, but I’m sure I won’t be able to eat it. I’m almost convinced Freddy wouldn’t poison me the old fashioned way, but he wouldn’t know about my allergies.
I open the card first. There’s a watercolor night sky on the front. He’s written a note on the inside.
I wish I could be with you enjoying this meal, but I have some work to do tonight. Before you ask, everything is from an allergy friendly restaurant. Leaf and Ladle. It’s a few towns over. Wheat, soy, nut, and dairy-free.
Sweet dreams, Angel. I’ll be seeing you soon.
I’m absolutely floored. No one, not even my own family has ever taken this much care about my food. How did he know? My stomach growls as I open each container. There’s a grilled chicken over quinoa dish with veggies. It smells garlicky and delicious. The next container has some sort of hummus with pita and sliced veggies. I pull off a piece of the pita and dip it before stuffing it into my mouth. It’s freaking amazing. I never get to eat bread products because of my wheat allergy. The last one has an incredible looking chocolate brownie in it.
I’m so touched I could actually cry. I carry each container over to the barely used dining room table and crack open the seltzer. Before I dig in, I text him back.
Me: I don’t even know what to say except thank you. This looks so good.
I start to cut into the chicken when he responds.
845-555-0912: I’m glad. Can’t have you eating crackers for dinner.
I stop chewing and reread his message. Crackers… How did he know that?
Me: Umm… ok, stalker.
845-555-0912: What? It was an educated guess.
Yeah, okay. I glance around the empty room. “Are you here?” When he doesn’t answer I yell. “Hello?”
Maybe it was a guess. Still, it’s pretty damn creepy. I take a few more bites of my meal and start to feel full. There’s no way I’m not leaving a bit of room for that brownie. Picking up my phone, I click on his number and change the contact name to Freddy. Then I take a screenshot and send it to him.
Freddy: I thought I’ve upgraded to Ghostface. Freddy’s a creepy child predator.
I snort in the most unattractive way. A few pieces of quinoa fly across the table.
Me: Until I see what’s under that mask, I’m afraid you’re stuck with Freddy.
Warmth spreads in my belly from the seltzer. I rarely drink, so when I do it doesn’t take much to get a buzz. I know I’m here all alone and the guy I’m talking to is the definition of a red flag, but this feels good. It’s been so long since I’ve smiled and laughed and enjoyed good food. I can’t remember the last time.
Freddy: Is that a proposition, Blake? Should I come show you?
I almost choke on a sip of seltzer. Do I want that? I keep telling myself I don’t but the way I’m flirting says otherwise. Heat spreads across my cheeks and down my neck as I imagine what he looks like under that mask. If his jawline and mouth are any inclination, the rest of his face will be just as hot.
Me: Noo, I’m all good. Aren’t you working, anyway?
Freddy: Liar.
He doesn’t answer my question and that’s fine. I don’t need to know what he’s doing.
Me: Not a liar.
I smile.
Me: If you don’t want me to call you Freddy, give me your name.
He doesn’t respond right away so I start cleaning up the containers. I’ll have food for the next day or two with all of this.
With everything put away, I grab the card and head back to my room, checking over my shoulder the entire time just in case.