Page 45 of Unmask

Page List

Font Size:

Seconds dragged.

I counted my heartbeats just to fill the silence.

A shadow shifted along the fence line, and my pulse spiked. “Kreed?” I whispered even though he couldn’t hear me.

The figure stepped into the light, and a breath whooshed out of me. Kreed emerged from the side of the house, knife still in hand, his expression masked. He stepped up to the door, knocked once, and I unlocked it as fast as I could, pulling him inside.

“Well, you didn’t die,” I said, using sarcasm to cover up what was really happening inside of me.

He shook his head slowly. “No one out there to kill me, but I wish they had tried.”

I didn’t miss the tension still in his shoulders. “That’s messed up. Do you think it was a false alarm?”

“Could’ve been,” he said, but we both knew better. His eyes swept the hallway behind me, then met mine again. “Or someone wanted us to think that.”

Goose bumps raced up my arms. Whatever had just happened, one thing was clear. I was glad he was here,andI wasn’t letting him sleep on the couch tonight.

Gnawing on my lip, I led the way back through the house. The hall was dark, the only light coming from the sliver of moon filtering through the window at the end. Shadows stretched along the walls like quiet ghosts.

We reached my bedroom, and I hesitated in the doorway, hand hovering near the frame. “Leave the door open,” I said softly, stepping inside. The room smelled faintly like lavender and old pages, comforting. I climbed into bed, the sheets cool against my skin, pulling the blanket up, but it did little to soothethe chill in my chest. I swallowed hard, hesitating again as I stared up at him.

Kreed lingered near the door, one hand braced against the frame like he was giving me a chance to change my mind.

“Will you stay?” I whispered. “Just for tonight?”

His eyes locked on to mine, and for a beat, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched me, reading between the cracks I couldn’t seal up fast enough.

“I might have regrets in the morning,” I admitted, my voice barely audible over the wind outside, “but tonight…I just want sleep. Uninterrupted. Without the nightmares. And you…” I swallowed the rest, but the meaning lingered in the air.

He stepped inside without a word, closing the distance in a few careful strides. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The way he moved, slow and deliberate, told me enough. He slid onto the mattress beside me, careful not to touch, but he was there, a steady presence.

Somehow, the cure for our disturbed sleep was each other.

“When I say sleep. I meansleep,” I clarified. “No funny business. You stay on your side. There’s an invisible line, and if you cross it, I swear I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dream of it, but if we’re being honest, it might be worth dying to touch you again.”

“Keed, you can’t say shit like that to me.”

“And you know what happens every time you say my name.”

“Just get in before I change my mind.”

“Gladly, little raven.” He took off his hoodie and jeans, letting them fall to the floor as I gathered the papers and laptop, placing them on the nightstand. Then he moved slowly, almost cautiously, around to the other side of the bed as if he were afraid to spook me or I might change my mind. He’d brought theknife with him and set it down on the bedside table. “I’ve been waiting all week to get into your bed.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned onto my side and faced the wall, thinking it would be safer than seeing him. The mattress dipped slightly as he mirrored me, his breath soft at my back. Close, perhaps too damn close, yet comforting all at the same time.

“When did they start coming back? The nightmares?” he asked, his fingers toying with my hair.

I knew what he was doing, attempting to divert my mind from the possibility that someone might still be out there, watching, waiting. I was grateful. My brain needed a distraction, and Kreed was the epitome of diversions for me. Rolling over, I faced him. Just looking at him scrambled my thought process. “I thought I said no touching.”

He held his hand up with a smirk, making my stomach cartwheel before resting it on the pillow.

Sighing, I answered his question. “Most nights since the warehouse.”

The soft rustle of the wind outside and the occasional creak of the house settled around us. “You shouldn’t have to go through that alone.” He shifted, his body angling toward me even though we weren’t touching.

I didn’t have the words because in what felt like forever…I didn’t feel alone. Even with an invisible line dividing the space between us, the warmth of his presence was known, as was the depth of his gaze and the quiet understanding we hadn’t had before. Somehow, for tonight, that was enough.