Page 30 of Voyeur

“Here I come, little one. Let’s hope you’re not hidden somewhere obvious. Because you don’t want to anger me.”

My hands shake more as I fidget. He sounds close. Too close. My palm brushes up against something, and I stiffen, sliding my hands behind me with a renewed sense of hope to suss out what it is.

A door?

It’s a door!

A round latch is dangling from a small, hidden door behind me. I slowly work it open, trying to make no noise as I slip inside and close it.

It’s dark inside, and I realize that I’m not in a hidden room. It seems that I’m in some kind of hidden hallway system behind my walls. There’s too much airflow for it to be a room.

I can still hear the man bellowing, but his words are muffled. I keep moving inward, running my hands across the walls as I trudge through the darkness. Anxiety pulses as I think of all the things that could be in here. None seem as menacing as the man that had me by the throat. I reach the end of the tunnel and cross over, touching the other wall to see if there’s another door anywhere.

As I run the expanse, I finally find another small door. This one is smaller and perched more toward the floor. When I push it open, it spills out into the night. I stick my head out, looking around and listening for signs he’s outside.

He’s not.

I can still hear him shouting things from inside the house. Banging is getting more frantic as he can’t find me. I slip out, the cold, dew-covered grass stinging my feet as I rush across it. The asphalt reminds me that my feet are sensitive when I cross the street toward Ryker’s house in only a few paces.

I bang on the door, causing a monstrous amount of noise, but I’m dying to be let in. I’m near crazed to be taken in. Away from the psycho that’s in my house.

Finally, the door flies open. “Carina? What’s wrong?” His eyes dart up and down my body as he assesses my well-being, as he’s trained to do.

I push past him. “Close the door!” I squeal.

Reluctantly, he does. “What the hell is going on?”

My mouth opens, and then it shuts.

Logically, I should blurt out that there’s an insane man with a fucking knife in my house that made me hide from him, and that I’d escaped. But I know Ryker will grab his service weapon and charge into my house, bullets blazing. And that stops me. God, fucking help me, it stops me dead in my tracks.

Do I want him to be found out? I can’t deny how I felt when he was close. But I can’t deny how I felt when Emery was close. Fuck, I’m a confused, horny girl who needs someone to fuck me, so I’ll stop lusting after my stalker!

Well, that’s no way to think. We’re strong and independent, we can get ourselves off.

Inwardly, I roll my eyes.

“Carina!” Ryker shouts, firmly grasping my shoulders and shaking me. “What’s wrong?”

“A man…there’s a man in my house,” I stammer. “He has a knife.”

There. Logic wins out. Barely.

Just as I thought, Ryker runs for his closest gun, rushing out the front door and into the night. I close his door and watch from the window as I chew my nails and pace back and forth. All my lights flick on one by one as he moves through the house, but I don’t hear a gunshot.

That’s good, right?

My brain can’t be trusted, I decide.

When Ryker comes back in, he’s annoyed. I can tell. My little middle of the night calls of alarm are getting old. Soon, I won’t be able to rely on him. Soon, I’ll be on my own.

“House is clear, Carina.” He replaces his weapon and then leans against the wall. His abs flex as I realize he’s only in his boxers. I bite my lip.

“He was there. He held a blade to my throat.”

For the first time, I see doubt cross his features.

He doesn’t believe me.