Page 43 of Under the Bed

Rushing toward my closet.

“Little sister.” A hand wraps around my ankle.

My eyes cut to the floor. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

Kaleb’s here.

His lean forearm flexes. The rest of his body is hidden under the bed.

My scream is a choked breath that’s lodged in my throat. Air refuses to go in or out.

Lungs burning.

“Come here.” Kaleb isn’t patient as he pulls harder on my ankle. He’s vicious. Throws me off balance.

With a yelp, I drop to my hands and knees, the rug absorbing my fall.

On heavy limbs, I crawl forward. Away from him.

In my periphery, I catch him climbing out and, foolishly, I stop to turn my head and look.

His face is hidden behind the mask. A new one. An identical one to the one they made him leave behind, but a lot less worn out.

This is a nightmare. This is a dream.

I’m going to die.

Frozen in place, I’m paralyzed as he’s staring at me.

I was right. He’s bigger than he was when they locked him up. Shoulders broader. He’s a lot taller than I remembered him, too.

Even through his hoodie, I see that his body has filled out. He’s lean and terrifying. He could do some real damage.

He will.

And I’m stuck in place.

His hand moves to wrap around my wrist, hauling me to sit up on my knees, a position that mirrors his. I stare up at him, too shocked to say a damn thing.

Please. Stop. Let me go. Kill me.

Nothing comes out.

Kaleb’s actions speak for both of us. His thumb strokes my pulse point. His grip is punishing. His touch is a threat.

I can stop your heart from beating whenever I choose.

Though every part of me screamsyes, the primal need to survive makes me whisper, “No. No.”

“Hmm.” That sound is more than what most people get from Kaleb. It does nothing to comfort me. He doesn’t love me.

Judgment day is here.

Kaleb gets to his feet, pulling me up with him.

We’re both standing, yes. But we aren’t equals. Oh, no. He’s much taller. Bigger. And his jeans and hoodie smell of my laundry detergent.

Guessing it right—that he spent the night here—doesn’t feel like I won anything. It means he’s been stalking me. A predator who gets off on the chase. Who’s about to eat his prey alive.

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