Page 147 of Under the Bed

The lack of privacy. Being probed and interrogated. Stripped of his humanity. Treated like a case subject instead of a person.

The ache in my chest is like no other. My heart twists. Sinks. Splits down the middle.

Kaleb said he didn’t mind being there so long that he knew I was safe.

Bullshit.

I’ve been under this Peeping Tom’s magnifying glass for less than five minutes and already my skin crawls.

On top of that, he taunted Kaleb for loving me. Un-fucking-acceptable.

“You have to tell me.” Reynolds’s voice grows urgent. He leans forward in his seat. His desire to analyze and learn about our lives is now written all over his face. “About your connection. His motivations. Did you notice his violent nature before he murdered those two boys? Or was it his father’s unsolved death?”

Unsolved?

There’s pressure in my temples. A black spot in my memory that hides something. Something’s repressed back there. I focus, but it’s still black. Still hidden.

Whatever.

I school my features into what I hope is an unreadable expression. No need for Dr. Reynolds to see he caught me unprepared.

Fuck Kaleb’s dad. I never researched what happened to that bastard. I was young, and then I didn’t care.

Maybe I should’ve.

No. Absolutely not.

There are answers out there. I’ll have them.

From Kaleb.

“You’re out of line.” As soon as I get up, his eyes plead with me to reconsider. I point my finger at him. “You’re not welcome here anymore. Not in my home. Not anywhere near me. I’ll be seeing my father’s attorneys today. Leave now, or I’ll ask them to file a restraining order against you.”

“Miss Talbot. Please.” He presses his hands together as he rises from the couch. “Kaleb Blackwood is one of a kind. Some therapists will never encounter anything like him throughout their entire career. You must talk to me. You must let me stay here until he comes. I’m begging you.”

If catching fire was a real thing, I’d have gone up in flames at his words. I’m doing everything in my power to conceal my anger. Everything.

The burning righteousness sears my bones. It hurts. Oh, how it hurts to swallow it down.

For him. Everything for him.

“Get. Out.” I’m losing control. Before I can stop myself, I pull out the pocketknife, aiming the blade at him. “Get the fuck out. You ever come near me again, and I’ll kill you. Trust that I have plenty of money and pull around the city to cover it up.”

He must think that Dad asked for intel out of his love and concern for me. He must believe that he’d help cover up hismurder. It’s evident in how he flinches and backs up in the direction of the door.

“Kaleb hasn’t been here.” I watch him like a hawk as he crosses my living room, walking backward. “If he shows up, I’ll be the first to tell him to get out of town. Out of the country. It’s bad enough that someone murdered my teacher?—”

“It could’ve been him,” he whispers, excitement flashing in his eyes.

“No.”

“You sure?”

I scoff at him. “I would’ve recognized my stepbrother.”

“It’s been years.”

“He isn’t fucking short, is he?”

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