Page 13 of Lights Out

I reared back. Was that what she’d thought? Fuck. That was the absolute last thing I wanted. How did I fix this? I was half tempted to send her a DM explaining myself, but how would that work?Hey, Aly, it’s me, the man who broke into your house. I was just watching you through the camera I hid in your room, and I wanted to let you know that you are correct. I am not, in fact, a serial killer.

Jesus Christ.

I knew I should have argued with my therapist when she said it was time to wean me off the anti-psychotics. Clearly, they’d been necessary if one of the first things I did once they were out of my system was start stalking someone.

I lifted my hand and was about to kill the video feed when Aly turned on her bed and finally looked at the mask. My finger hovered over the button as her expression shifted into something I hadn’t seen before. Her eyes fluttered half shut, and she bit her full bottom lip in a way that had me leaning forwardin my chair. A pretty flush stained her cheeks pink. Was she about to cry?

She glanced sideways at her cat. “Only one way to find out.”

Before I could zoom back in on what she was doing, she tapped something out on her phone, fingers flying over the screen before hitting a final key. Aswooshsound followed, like she’d just sent an email or a text.

My phone chimed on my desk.

I froze.

Oh, shit. Had she DM’d me?

Carefully, like it might rear up and bite me, I lifted my phone. A notification flashed across it, reading, “User aly.aly.oxen.free would like to send you a message.”My heart pounded against my ribs as I unlocked the screen and opened her message.

This might sound completely insane, but did you break into my house tonight, film a video in my bedroom, and leave a mask behind?

Fuck. How did I respond? If I said yes, it could eventually get held against me in a court of law. If I said no, I’d be gaslighting her. Was there some way to play it cool? Answer her question with a question that neither confirmed nor denied her suspicions?

What would you do if I said yes?I asked. There. That seemed safe enough.

Onscreen, her app pinged, and I had a front-row seat as she read and reacted to my reply. She bit her lower lip again, sucking in a breath as she pulled her phone close. A few loose strands of hair fell over her shoulder, obscuring her profile from my sight.

“Holy fucking shit, he answered,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He never answers anyone. Ever.”

Turn right a little so I can see you better,I almost demanded, but that would give the camera away, and now that I had her talking, I wasn’t ready to have the feed cut off.

She started typing again, and a second later, my phone chimed.

That depends,she said.

On what, Aly?I typed back.

She sucked in another breath, and I grinned. So she liked it when I used her name. Did it make her feel special, knowing that the man she’d openly lusted after online, who notoriously never responded to comments or DMs, had finally chosen to speak to someone, and that someone was her? If so, I’d type and say her name every chance she gave me.

On what your intentions are,she said.

I sat back in my chair. My intentions. How to respond? There were so many options, so many fantasies I’d played out in my mind with her already. There was the one of waking her up in the middle of the night with a knife to her throat, but instead of turning the blade on her, I slid the handle between her legs and used it to edge her to the brink of insanity, teasing her but never giving her what she wanted despite how much she begged and sobbed for release. Or the one where I kidnapped her in the hospital parking garage, drove her into the middle of the woods, and told her to run as far as she could because what I planned to do when I caught her would make even the Devil weep.

But she probably wasn’t ready for any of that right now, and she might still be thinking about calling the cops, so I settled for taunting her instead.

My intentions? Oh, Aly. Why would I tell you what they are when your previous comments have led me to believe that fear is half the fun for you?

I lifted my eyes just in time to watch Aly drop her phone on the comforter and place her head in her hands. “I need so much more therapy than I’m currently getting.”

I grinned, because same.

Fred meowed and butted his head against her arm.

“Fur therapy isn’t going to cut it this time, buddy,” she said, scooping him up. “And I’m sorry for this, but I need to do grown-up human things right now, and you can’t be in here.”

As I watched, she strode to her bathroom and set Fred on the tile floor, apologizing again as she shut him inside. I waited with bated breath as she returned to the bed and picked up her phone.

How can I trust that you wouldn’t hurt me?she asked.

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