Page 29 of The Invite
They’re wrong.
My beautiful prey’s breathing picks up speed, almost going into a full-fledged panic attack. Her mind is telling her to run, a predator is circling her, but her limbs aren’t working. They’ve malfunctioned.
One second passes.
She’s still panting.
Two.
She swallows, trembling.
Three.
The instinct kicks in and she stumbles back.
“No. No. No,” Nessa chants to herself, looking around the space as if I’ll emerge from the shadows.
Not so fast, little prey.
I enter the second bedroom across from hers just as she exits the room. Her timid footsteps, along with her rapid pants, reach my ears.
“I know you’re here,” she yells bravely.
I’m impressed. A unique prey that retaliates when they’re trapped with their back against the wall. I keep quiet as she goes past the room I am in. I wait until I know she’s descended the stairs before stalking after her.
She’s turned on all the lights as if that will protect her. But her house, though small, is built like a maze with so many dark corners that it could take days to find me.
“You don’t scare me,” she shouts, her quivering voice coming from the kitchen.
What a beautiful liar.
“I see you drank my water.”
So, so sassy.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I switch off the light and she comes barreling toward my direction. I cross into the living room and plunge it into darkness. I’ve never had as much fun toying with someone as I do her.
“Stop hiding!” she yells. “Come out!”
Not so soon.
She stays near the stairs, while I remain in the room near the front door. The only light pouring in is from the kitchen, where I can see one of the knives in the holder missing. Her weapon of choice neither scares me nor is it going to stop me.
“What do you want?” Frustration bleeds into her words. “I signed the NDA. Leave me alone…Please.”
The defeat and resignation in her voice give me pause as I study her shadowed figure through the open doorway. She can’t see me but I can see her. That’s why I don’t miss her shoulders slumping as her gaze hits the floor.
The inkling I had that she was carrying a hidden burden inside her smacks me again right now.
Minutes pass as neither of us speak nor move.
I’m curious what she’ll do next.
She slowly turns around and I narrow my gaze as she enters the kitchen. I walk in the direction of the staircase to keep her in my line of sight. I’m amazed when she puts the knife back in the holder.
Is she waving the proverbial white flag?
In all of our interactions, I know she isn’t the type to relinquish so easily.
