Page 144 of Under the Bed

Good thing Kaleb hasn’t left anything in my apartment. I was there less than an hour ago, and my home looked the same as always. Organized. Clean. Mine.

And as much as the thought of having a strange man alone in my home makes my skin crawl, I’m not truly scared of Dr. Reynolds. He wouldn’t hurt me.

He’s been studying Kaleb for over a decade. He must’ve seen my photos. Dug up information about our case. He knows you don’t fuck with the love of this serial killer’s life.

Just in case he gets too close again, I have my knives at home.

“I have to head out to the police station before I go to class.” Lying would get me absolutely nowhere. He’ll see it onmy face and figure out I’ve been untruthful. Then, what else am I hiding, right? Better let it all out. Like, everything. “My phone’s not on me, but I have to make some calls too. Get back to Dad’s lawyers. My professor was murdered last night. I was a witness. So…”

Nothing I say surprises Kaleb’s therapist. The news must’ve hit the internet. And since my theory about his obsession with Kaleb is apparently on point, he has to know the dead professor used to be my teacher.

My blood runs cold. He could be dangerous. Kidnap me or—No. No. I circle back to my former conclusion. There’s no way he’d be so reckless and try anything with me.

Hurting me in any capacity would only serve to get him a knife between the ribs, not information.

Silently, we head inside the building. I stay at a safe distance behind him. I can’t let him smell my breath. Can’t walk ahead of him, where I can’t see him.

He doesn’t argue when I signal for him to head up first. No wonder there. He knows I’m a sexual assault survivor. He’s dug into our pasts, that psycho. He treats me as such.

Goddamn it. Goddamn my father for sending this stalker my way.

As we climb the stairs, I think this through.

Dad must’ve figured out that Kaleb’s doctor had an ulterior motive for coming out here. That he’d be writing a book or publishing a study about us.

He’s figured itout, and he’s still using him. Meaning he’ll get rid of him once Dr. Reynolds brings Kaleb on a silverplatter. Meaning that his ex-PI hasn’t been doing a good enough job.

He’s getting restless. He might send a new PI here and soon.

Three days. Kaleb promised that after Halloween, we’re out of here. I have to trust him.

I do trust him.

Once we’re at the door, Dr. Reynolds steps aside, allowing me to open it without crowding my space.

Had it been anyone else, I’d have appreciated his kindness. Seeing it’s this probing asshole, I despise the gesture, much like I loathe everything else about him.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, making a beeline toward the kitchen.

“No, thank you.”

By the time his voice reaches me, I already have gum shoved in my mouth.

His footsteps echo around the apartment while I curl my fingers around one of the pocketknives I have stashed in my kitchen drawers. I put it in the pocket of my coat.

My insurance policy.

When my breath no longer smells acrid, I spit out the gum and join Dr. Reynolds in my living room. He’s standing there, hands folded in front of him, his stance relaxed.

But his eyes. They bounce around the room. Probing. Searching for any evidence that Kaleb’s been here.

My placid expression is about to crack.

Hold on.

“Please, have a seat.” I lower myself to one couch, gesturing for him to take the other one.

When he’s sitting, he rolls his shoulders. Clears his throat and affixes his stare on me. “I’ll start by reassuring you a second time that Kaleb isn’t out there to kill you.”

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