Page 34 of The Night Shift
The contact ID flashes across the screen — EVIL HAG.
I frown. Why the fuck is Theo calling me at this hour?
Chapter 6
Theo
One hour earlier
Holly’s flat
Let me be very clear. I’m not usually like this.
I don’tusuallybreakinto Holly’s flat this late at night. Not on Saturdays. My usual visits are confined to Mondays and Wednesdays between the hours of midnight and three in the morning.
But that was before the anonymous prank messages and the worrisome look on her face as she stuffed a fresh corpse inside her best friend’s car.
Tonight, Ihadto come here. Ihadto break my rules. Ihadto make sure her flat was safe for her return. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Mum would have been proud.
I punch in the awfully obvious access code to her flat — 0-7-1-2 (April’s birthday) smiling when the keypad flashes green and push the door open.
I sashay down her hallway and make a right into her bedroom. I’m already familiar with the interior. I’ve seen it many times either through her windows or the hidden cameras.Sometimes in person. Dark green walls, black paisley curtains — wide open, putting her on display for all the world to see. Her clothes are strewn across the floor in a tangled mess. I pick up a pair of black cotton panties tossed at the foot of her bed, bringing it to my nose and inhaling its scent, before stuffing them into my jacket pocket.
Her dresser, as usual, is a cluttered mess with lipstick tubes and medical textbooks. There are some framed pictures on her bedside table. Four in total. Two are of her and April. One is of her with my future in-laws. And the other is…huh. I don’t recognize the girl.
Light brown skin, chestnut hair, grey-green eyes. Holly is standing next to her wearing a red tank top and a pair of star-shaped dangly earrings I’ve never seen. Her short blonde waves are tied up in a loose bun.
This picture wasn’t here the last time I visited. Odd.
The two of them are at some sort of a park, laughing, arms twined around one another’s necks, not a care in the world. Holly looks happy with her. Effortlessly so.
Hm.
I pick up the framed picture of Happy Holly and decide to take her home with me.
Then I pace about the rest of the room. There’s a few vintage movie posters above her bed. Mostly horror. Her favorite genre. A tall wooden shelf next to her closet, brimming with books. I stand there, picturing her long, dainty fingers caressing each page, her manicured fingernail caught ever so lightly between her teeth as her deep, brown eyes take in the words sprawled in front of her. I imagine reading to her as she rests her head on my chest listening to my heartbeat. I imagine running my fingers through her hair until she falls asleep. I imagine waking her up with my mouth between her legs.Soon.
I walk out to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I chug the contents in under ten seconds and wash the glass along with a few more dishes she’s left in the sink.Careless Holly. She’s so lucky to have me. I retrace my steps and flop down on her bed. Her sheets smell just like her. Daffodils with a hint of vanilla. I’m careful not to let my shoes touch the sheets. Holly has enough on her plate as it is. The last thing I want is for her to come home to dirty linen.
My gaze sweeps over her bedroom and falls on the atrocity sitting on the table across her bed. A large capybara plush doll. It’s blue in colour and has a very tiny, very useful red button nose. The label on its foot says:FRED. It was a present from April. A bad one, but a present, nonetheless.Sentimental Holly.
I take out my phone and open the video surveillance app. A screen full of black and white static pops up. Frowning, I scoot forward and gently tap Fred the Capybara’s red button nose twice. My screen glitches and live footage of Holly’s bed replaces the static.
There we go. All better.
I smile and wave at the camera. My hair looks particularly striking tonight. I wish I could take a picture and leave it for Holly to find. She deserves to appreciate it. Instead, I just lean back against the headboard and close my eyes.
I pretend to think of something other than her face, or at least I try to. But it never works. She’s always on my mind. Every second of every day. Woven into the fabric of my thoughts. Occupying every moment from when I wake up until I drift off to sleep.
Her lustrous blonde hair. Her creamy, ivory skin with seven freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. Her cheeks that turn pink every time she catches me looking at her. Her lips. Heart-shaped and perfect. How they sometimes, very rarely, stretch into asmile when no one is watching. I would call her smile exquisite, but that seems like a bland shadow to the truth.
There isn’t a good enough word in the English dictionary to describe the kind of beauty Holly’s smile holds. It’s a beacon of light. It’s such a rare sight, that when she smiles, it feels like a reward, like I’ve earned it somehow, even though I know I’ve not. Not yet. No, Holly’s smile is more than just beautiful. It’s the perfect balance between danger and charm. A poem. It’s fatal. Lethal. Intoxicating. Like blood on snow.
I’m completely enraptured by it. By everything she does.
The way she moves, the way she speaks and breathes. Every time I’m next to her, my emotions spiral all over the place, entangling each other. Fear becomes desire. Sadness becomes hope. Uncertainty turns into courage. I want toknowher. I wantherto knowme. Fuck, yes. My fixation with Holly might push me to the edge of a cliff one day, but as long as I get to keep her, falling into the abyss is a risk I’m willing to take —
A sharp beeping sound interrupts my train of thought.
