Chapter 23
chapter
twenty-three
CALDER
Shay lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building and, because I wasn’t Spider-Man or Alex Honnold, climbing through the actual window was off the table. So, as had become my new ritual, I waited outside her apartment building until she left for work.
Now I jimmied her lock, already making a mental note to fix it—it was a cheap landlord special that anyone with half a brain cell could break.
My date with Shay had been only a few days ago, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She was driving me nuts. All week she took dirty photos or made notes that I swore were about me.
Like a pro-and-con list.
Or a post about her bad date. What had been bad about it? Barring our first date, it was the best I’d ever had.
The lock clicked and I pushed open the door.
This was bad. This was the behavior of the men I hunted. Obsessive. Possessive. Two things I’d always prided myself on not being.
But.
Fuck.
Odaxelagnia was right.
Shay transformed at the smallest bite.
I shook my head, entering the apartment. I put on an audiobook Shay had been listening to and got to work on the dishes. I’d already replaced most of her cleaning supplies, as the ones she did have hadn’t been used since.
Get on your knees, baby girl, and crawl.
The audiobook continued as I scrubbed her dishes, the earthy, floral lemon verbena scent wafting up from the bubbles.
When I first discovered Shay was sick, I researched everything I could about it. I was very good at severing attachment, and even better at stopping before it happened, but with Shay I…worried.
I worried about her not eating well.
I worried her laundry was taking too many spoons.
I especially worried the graveyard had been overkill.
I wanted more than just the glimpse of her mind I’d caught in papers and books, I wanted to see all of it. Shay was the definition of still waters. Beneath her cool exterior lay a maelstrom of complexity.
She tasted so good.
She opened up so well for me. Promised so much in that kiss. All the ways she’d let me ruin her—
My phone buzzed with a notification from my sister in our sibling group chat.
Are we still on for lunch next week?
I had started to type yes, when another notification appeared—Shay had added another note, but it was just a link. Curiosity getting the better of me, I clicked it.
Moans filled the room.
Porn.
The phone slipped from my sudsy hand, landing on the floor with a clang, just as I heard movement outside the door and the sound of—keys.
I froze, watching someone jiggle the knob as if in slow motion. Someone was home. Why was someone home?
“Fuck me harder, Daddy,” a woman on screen moaned.
Shit.
I grabbed the phone and smothered it.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
The apartment wasn’t tiny, but it wasn’t exactly equipped with hiding spots. There was one closet next to the front door, one I knew they opened up every time they entered to put away their shoes. The bedrooms had a walk-in with no door. There was no balcony, no space under the bed.
Shit.
Their black tuxedo cat blinked down at me from atop his cat-tree-litter combo. And then an idea came to me. A horrible fucking idea. My eyes wandered beneath, to the small hutch where they kept the litter.
No. There had to be another—
The door edged open.
I lunged into the hutch, barely managing to get inside before the door opened. Through the small hole where the cat came in, I saw Shay open the closet and kick off her shoes.
“I just got back,” she said, sounding like she was on the phone. “It shouldn’t take me long to find.”
The hutch barely fit me. This time I did channel Spider-Man, doing everything I could to stay suspended above the litter. Shoulders wobbling, knuckles white.
Just as I was thanking god for the clean litter, the cat came in. I stared at him. No way. No fucking way.
“No…I don’t know,” Shay said.
I urged the cat soundlessly to go somewhere else.
Go, I mouthed. Get the fuck out. You can hold it for ten minutes.
“I think I’ll need to borrow something for my date Friday,” Shay continued.
My attention immediately shifted from the cat.
Date? What fucking date?
Shay came to a stop right at the entrance to the litter.
She laughed. “Yeah, same. I really hope it’s better than the last one. That guy was so weird.”
Weird?
I watched in slow-motion horror as the cat turned around, giving me its ass.
No.
He then proceeded to take a shit.
Right beneath my nose.
“Found it!” Shay said. A few moments later, she left.
I heard the lock click and quickly fell out. I sprawled on the floor, face up, staring at the ceiling. It would take years to get the smell of cat shit out of my nostrils. Generations from now my great-great-grandchildren will still smell it.
The cat ambled out and sat next to my face, licking its paw.
I swore the fucker gave me a smug look.
My gaze drifted beyond him to the door.
Date?
This girl was going to fucking end me.