Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Peyton
I startle awake. My eyes are wide open, but my room is pitch black; it’s the middle of the night.
Did something wake me? Or was it just a dream?
Harry isn’t staying tonight; he’s out with friends in the city and is staying with one of them — more like hooking up — so I know it wouldn’t be him that woke me.
I reach for the little bundle of fur who always sleeps next to me but find the spot empty.
“D’Artagnan,” I hiss into the room. Nothing.
I slide out of bed, my feet silent on the cold wood floor as I make my way out of my bedroom, grabbing my phone off the nightstand before I leave.
Something feels off, the hairs at the nape of my neck are standing on end.
I flick on my hall light and blink rapidly at the blinding light.
There was no way I was continuing to walk through the place in the dark, that’s how horror films get made.
I continue to make my way down my hallway towards my kitchen.
“D’Artagnan, where are you?” This is very unlike him, he’s a vocal cat and he always comes when I call him. Something’s not right.
I walk into the kitchen and turn the light on straight away.
My eyes scan the room looking for my fluffy boy.
“D’Artagnan, baby, where are you?” And then I hear it, what sounds like the most pitiful whimper coming from the other side of my breakfast bar.
I run round it to find my cat curled into a ball in the corner, pressed up against my cabinets.
His fur is puffed up and his little body is shaking.
I scoop him straight into my arms and he buries his face into my chest, his little body still trembling in my hold.
What the fuck has him so spooked? I look around my kitchen trying to see what could have scared him this badly.
I’ve got to be honest he’s scaring me right now.
I need to check the apartment. I won’t be able to relax until I know everything is okay. Deeming the kitchen as safe, I make my way back into the hallway and realize why something had felt off. It’s cold, there’s a draft coming down the corridor.
I slowly turn towards my front door and freeze when I see the door ajar. Ice fills my veins and I’m paralyzed in fear.
I know I didn’t leave it open, it’s not something I’ve ever done, but after the note I’ve been anal retentive about locking up, and I distinctly remember locking both locks on my front door.
Someone is in my house.
D’Artagnan mewls in my arms, and it breaks me out of my frozen state. I bolt back into the kitchen and slam the door closed behind me. I shove a chair under the handle and fumble with my phone, calling the first person that comes to mind. It rings twice before he answers.
“Peyton, what’s wrong?” his voice is rushed, panicked.
“Someone’s here,” I whisper, my voice wobbling with fear.
“Where are you?” I can hear movement down the other end of the phone, something crashes to the ground, and his muffled curse follows.
“The kitchen.”
“Listen to me, Peyton, I need you to stay right there and keep me on the phone. Can you lock the door?”
“No.” My body is trembling. “I-I-I put a chair under the handle,” I stammer out.
“Good girl. Stay right there, sweetheart, I won’t be long.” I hear his car starting through the phone and it dawns on me that he’s in the city; he’s going to be at least thirty minutes.
“Oh God, Bennett, you’ll take too long.”
“Minutes, Peyton, I am minutes away.” I don’t think to question him, because it’s as those words meet my ears that the handle on my kitchen door starts to move.
“Oh God, he’s in the house,” I gasp and run to the door, dropping the phone and my cat in my rush.
I hold the chair in place, hoping it will hold and keep whoever is on the other side out.
I can hear Bennett shouting my name through the phone where I dropped it.
The door handle rattles and a thud sounds from the other side, as if whoever’s here is ramming their body into it.
“Go away,” I scream, “the cops are on their way.” The handle rattles again, I’m quite sure I scream again, in fact, I’m not sure I ever stopped. A shuffling noise comes through the door and then silence.
I’m not sure how long I stand there like that, but eventually, over the pounding of my heartbeat I can hear the rumble of an engine getting closer.
“PEYTON!” he roars as I hear him charging down my hallway. My body, which is still pressed against the door, slumps in relief and a sob leaves my chest.
“Peyton!” he shouts through the door, and I find the energy to move away from it.
“I’m here,” my voice is weak and I’m not sure he can hear me. I drag the chair away and open the door; I’m immediately scooped up and pulled into the arms of a giant.
“Thank fuck,” he mumbles into my hair, “Christ, Peyton, you had me so scared.” It’s only now that I realize his body is shaking as he holds me.
In his arms, where my body knows it’s safe, I finally crumple as huge racking sobs leave me. He holds me through it all, whispering to me that I’m safe now, that he’s got me, that he’s never letting me go.
Bennett
A few hours later, I finally close the door behind the cops. It’s been a night. To say I was scared earlier when I answered the phone would be an understatement. A fear like I’ve only felt once before gripped me and when I heard her scream down the line, I swear I damn near had a heart attack.
I walk back into the kitchen to find Peyton sitting on one of the barstools at her breakfast bar, the cat in her lap, both of them in a trance. I walk over to her and lift them both, sitting down on the stool and placing them in my lap.
“You don’t have to keep holding me, you know? I won’t break,” she says as she nuzzles into me.
“Yeah, I do.” I need to hold her as much as she needs to be held. “I need you to come and stay with me.” She lifts her head from where it was buried in my chest, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
“Bennett, I’m not just coming to stay with you. Everything is here, and I will not leave D’Artagnan.”
“Did it sound like a question to you? Peyton, you will be moving in with me for the foreseeable future. There is not a chance in hell you’re staying here when you have a stalker.
” The one good thing to come out of tonight, apart from the fact that she called me — when she needed someone it was me she called; I’ll be analyzing the fuck out of that later — but the good thing to come from tonight, is that I was here when she told the police everything.
About the note, about feeling like she’s being watched.
I don’t have to make out I don’t know anything about it anymore.
My protective side can really show itself with her now. Starting with her staying with me.
“Before you say anything else,” I say as I place my finger over her lips, “the cat comes too, anything you need comes with you. I need you with me, Peyton. I need to know you’re safe. Tonight wasn’t just scary for you, sweetheart.”
“Bennett, I can’t impose on you like that. We barely know each other, and I’m still not sure I actually like you. You’re right, though, I won’t be staying here alone, but I’ll move in with Harry not you.”
“No, Peyton, you won’t. Harry doesn’t own a global security firm. Harry can’t protect you like I can when you’re in danger. I won’t play around with your life because you think staying with me is somehow giving up your independence, because let’s be honest, that’s what this is really about.”
“Bennett, it’s too soon. I can’t move in with someone I just met.” For fuck sake! This is happening, she needs to get on fucking board with it.
“Don’t give me that shit, Peyton. You called me.
Tonight, when you were scared out of your mind; you didn’t phone the cops first, you didn’t phone your friends, you phoned me.
” I take a deep breath, trying to calm my agitation at her belittling us.
“That means something. We mean something. I’m not asking you to marry me, Peyton, I’m asking you to let me keep you safe. ”
“Okay, that’s fair,” she concedes. “Fine. I’m not happy about it, but I guess it makes sense. I need my car for work tomorrow, though — well, today actually.” I bark out a laugh.
“Sweetheart, you’ve got another thing coming, if you think you’re going to work after what you’ve just been through.” She raises her eyebrows at me.
“Did it sound like a question to you?” She throws my own words right back at me. Little brat.