Chapter Eleven
Summer?
My eyes are firmly planted onto the ceiling above, and I watch through stinging eyes as the shadows dance across the plaster. Tears soak my pillow as the weight of, yet another fucking mistake crushes my soul that little bit more. Rolling to one side, I stare out the window, the moonlight illuminating the room as the curtains stay parted, hoping that sleep will eventually take over.
No such luck. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, two am nears. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pull myself up in the bed. Throwing my head into my hands once again, the confusion and frustration of the entire New York stay continues to eat me from the inside. After Bhodi walked out without another word, I stood in the living room again, like I had twenty-four hours previous. Shame racking my body, yet I had hope that he would return, but if he had returned, for me, the damage was done.
The damage has already been caused by my own warped fascination with the man who calls himself Two/Face. Even as he crosses my mind, I feel my body ache with desire and need, yet my head is screaming at me to fucking run away. I mean, seriously, who the fuck fantasizes about a man in a mask who has already killed once and enters your home without permission to ‘punish you’.
The same person that stood naked at a window while he finger fucked me. The same person who wanted him to carry on and also the same fucking person that’s craved that touch ever since.
I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.
Pushing the duvet off with a frustrated huff, I swing my legs off the bed and head through the kitchen. I pull out one of the barstools and take a seat. Pulling the paperwork from the attorney, I force my eyes to glance over the funeral arrangements.
If I can’t sleep, I may as well try and be fucking useful.
Pouring a large glass of red, I get lost in the arrangements I need to follow up, making a couple of notes here and there, but the silence of the apartment is eerie, feeling the hair on the back of my neck rising once again, my eyes remain on the documents.
Glancing across the hall, I see my dad’s bedroom. The door has stayed shut since I came here. The idea of going through his things just feels like too much right now. I know I’ll need to go through his belongings eventually, but It’s something I know I’ll put off for as long as I can.
Refusing to acknowledge my feeling of uneasiness, I persevere at the table, but with the words beginning to move around the page and the constant shivers running over my body, I shunt the paperwork away, leaning back in the chair.
My eyes snap to the door as three sharp knocks grab my attention. My brow furrows, looking between the door and the large clock in the kitchen. My stomach drops and the knocks repeat, sliding from the stool and quietly moving towards the door. I eye the door curiously, but it doesn’t take long for a familiar voice to send me into a silent frenzy.
“Summer? Baby, I know you’re in there.” At first his voice is sincere, almost kind.
After he knocks again, the monster that lies beneath begins to stir.
“I fucking know where you are. I will fucking gut you, you fucking slut. I’ll slice those pretty lips from your face.” The maniacal laugh seeps through the door. His sinister voice is low as I stand frozen on the spot a few feet away with only a door between us.
My eyes fill with hot tears, and my entire body trembles. Leaning against the wall for support, my fingers clutching onto the paint as the feeling of helplessness consumes me.
Oh god, how did he find me? What do I do?
“I’ll make sure Detective Grey watches while I fucking claim what’s mine.” He continues to speak, “I’ll be seeing you very soon.” I slide down the wall as silent sobs rack my body, dropping to my knees the sound of retreating footsteps thud through the hall, eventually becoming non-existent as I huddle in a frantic mess on the floor.