Page 38 of Like Grim Death: Part One
The dream I had comes to haunt me, silver eyes in the dark, in the corner of a room.
I take a breath, trying to convince myself I’m paranoid. Nothing is happening. I’m just tired, and none of this shit makes sense. That’s all.
Besides, Cain is right downstairs. I could scream, and he’d hear me. With that thought, I turn my head as my phone dims, and look over my shoulder. I see the leather couch on the far side of the room, the low industrial-looking coffee table before the three windows covered in slate gray curtains, slivers of moonlight peeking through the only glow to see by.
There’s nothing else though.
Rolling my eyes at myself, the way my emotions and confusion are playing tricks on my senses, I turn back to my phone and send another text.
Me: I don’t want to play these games.
And as soon as the message is delivered, I hear it.
A beep.
A generic ringtone.
I stand up, my entire body full of pins and needles as I spin around, putting my back to the wall beside the closed bathroom door. My eyes sweep over the cavernous bedroom in the dark as I grip my phone so tight my palm starts to sweat.
Nothing.
There’s nothing here.
My heart slams against my ribcage too fast, and my gaze turns to the closet door, pulled closed, on the wall adjacent the windows.
I swallow down my fear and look back at my phone.
Atlas hasn’t replied.
Me: Wtf is going on?
I hesitate over the send button with shaky fingers. Maverick’s phone might be here, but at night, it’s always on silent. He rarely sleeps as it is, he says if he does manage to get to bed, the cult can burn while he’s dreaming for all he cares.
My thumb hovers over the button.
I send the message, holding my breath, thinking I just imagined the sound.
I glance at the screen, tense, but the very second the message is delivered, I hear it again.
A low beep, just for a beat.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, turning my head to look at the bathroom. The door is pulled to, and I can see nothing under the crack in the door in the darkness, but the sound was further away.
The closet, I think.
But I was just there. There was nothing.There’s nothing.Maverick has suits though, that I’ve never seen him wear, hanging up along one wall. Dress shirts. Ties. Someone could have hidden there…
No.
Not possible. No one is here.
I press my thighs together, fear coursing through my veins as I clutch my phone to my chest, my hip bumping the bed as I rock back and forth a little.Maverick, please come home.
I glance at the door to the bedroom. Theexit, it feels like now.
I don’t think for asecondit’s actually Atlas’s phone. He can’t be here. He wouldn’t dare because we both know the consequences of Mav finding out our shared secrets.
He wouldn’t.
