Page 51 of Under the Bed

Then he did.

Over the past couple of hours, I’ve been feeling his eyes on me.

This constant state of anxiety has my bones freezing, has me shaking with fear.

My black wool sweater won’t keep me warm. My thick jeans and boots do a crappy job of that as well.

I think I’m just so tired of missing him. Of fearing him. Of losing my goddamn mind.

I need to be alone. Inside my barricaded apartment. I need time to figure this out.

“Another time.” The smile on my lips is forced. It won’t fool them, so I tap my leather shoulder bag. “Lots of work to get done. Classes are harder than I thought. Val, could you give me a ride home?”

“I’ll give you one. Later.” Marina twists her brown hair up into a messy bun. She narrows her amber eyes at me. They turn into a shade of bronze at night, under the glow of the streetlight. “You’re not going home, and you’re not spending the evening alone. We—You need this.”

This is the first time she’s shown such interest in me.

Which isn’t a true interest at all. While the news hasn’t mentioned anything about Kaleb today—thanks, Dad, I guess—yesterday was adifferent story.

She must have something to say on the subject. Like how she hates Kaleb. Same as always.

Val, though, doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“One cup of coffee, swear.” She has her long blonde braid pulled to her front, her green eyes kind as she strokes my arm. “Then you can avoid us for another two weeks. What do you say?”

“Please?” Marina comes up on my other side. I prefer she wouldn’t get too close, an opinion I keep to myself. “I’m not letting you out of here before we talk.”

Playing dumb in hopes she’ll drop it, I ask, “Talk about what?”

Her response is nothing but mumbles. A mixture of vowels and consonants that hardly register as a strange feeling takes over me.

The goosebumps spreading over my skin tear me away from the conversation.

No one else seems to notice the change in the air. In me. In the world.

I don’tthinkhe’s here anymore.

I know he is.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. Search the street ahead of me. Study every face. Every tall person in a hoodie who walks around in a slow, menacing gait could be him.

No masked man is coming toward us. No large, dangerous shadow anywhere in sight.

He’s here. Has to be here.

He is. And he’s looking at me, that’s for sure. And this isn’t how lovers look at each other. His violence, his aggression, it’s suffocating.

And not in a bad way.

He said he wouldn’t kill me.

Then again, when we were young, he promised he wouldn’t hurt me, either.

He never did.

“…also, you have to be proactive about this. Consider what to do in case he comes for you.” Marina raises her voice to be heard over music blasting from one of the cars. “He could ask for your help. You should be ahead of this, Shiloh. Call the police, have them put someone outside your home. They’ll protect you from being associated with this criminal.”

Her warnings are mere noises again.

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