Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry about the cave,” Creep says. “Could you… please not tell anyone about how it looks inside?”
I frown as befuddlement puffs up my mind. “What do you mean?”
“About the bed, the wardrobe… all of it.” He turns into a smaller, even more picturesque path between trees, and a gentle breeze makes my step lighter.
“You… don’t invite people?” When he shakes his head, I speed up and spin around, walking backwards so I can see his face. “I was your first guest?”
He is making it impossible to meet his eyes, but I get a better glimpse of his features in this bright light. He’s so pale it’s like milk spilled over his sharp cheekbones. He just needs some maintenance. “Well… yeah. It’s not exactly the Ritz.”
Why does my heart sink so deep whenever he’s sad? I’ve seen him murder someone, and I’ve spent only a couple of hours with him, tops.
“It’s a nice room. Clean, your furniture is well-maintained, and you have so many books. Do your friends know you read?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. Maybe Brigid and her daughter. You’ll meet them soon.” We approach a cute little log cabin with a dusty window. “You don’t have to lie to me. I live in a cave. I know what I am, and I know what I did to you, so the least I can do is offer to pay for your stay.”
I fall behind, watching his slumped shoulders as he walks past me. “I’m not lying. I swear that the heart thing was just a lie of desperation,” I say and once again jog up to him. “Thank you for wanting to take the risk and help me, by the way.”
Finally, a glimpse of his eyes, even if just for a split second before he walks up to the door. “I couldn’t fucking stand him calling you names, pushing you around. I know I shouldn’t have been there, I know it’s wrong. But I’m not sorry I killed him.” He puts the key into the lock with a click of finality.
I swallow, embarrassed about what Creep heard the night Adam died, and this time it’s me who doesn’t want to meet his gaze. “He was a scumbag. But you’re good. Just a bit… socially awkward,” I add, trying to smile as I poke Creep’s chest. Will he smile back?
It’s as if my whole body is waiting for it.
Something cracks on his face, but it’s not a smile. A frown? I’m not sure with his hair in the way. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles and shoves open the door. “Here you go. I’ll bring bedding and cleaning supplies.”
And he… walks off. Just like that, without a goodbye.
“When?” I call out after him as my throat dries. Did I offend him?
Fuck.
He’s gone. I have a house. But also so many regrets.
But if I’m staying here for a while, I’m sure I’ll see him around soon. He’s a Vulture after all and they… mingle here in their village. No need to follow him like a creep.
The pun really doesn’t amuse me.
Chapter 10
Creep
Socially awkward.
He thinks I’m socially awkward.
So what if he’s right? The fact that he sees me that way stabs me every time I replay the conversation in my head. Not only was I gullible enough to believe the lie about his heart condition, I’m also socially awkward.
So I made myself scarce, because what’s the point of torturing him with my unwanted presence?
That of course doesn’t mean I’m able to stay away. I’ve been tailing him for three days to make sure he doesn’t get in trouble. Or just because I’m an obsessed creep, I don’t even know myself at this point.
When I fall asleep, he’s under my eyelids, and the taste of him is on my tongue.
Angel. A beautiful name for a beautiful person, and I want to put my hands on him so much it hurts.
I’ve even watched him sleep deep in the night. He tosses and turns for quite a while before slumber takes him. When it does, he seems so peaceful, so idyllic I amused myself with trying to count the freckles on his face, but then he’d shift and I’d lose count. I imagined myself climbing into his bed, sliding my hands under his pyjamas… I wouldn’t actually do it, but I’ve been thinking about it a concerning number of times. About his pink nipples, his slender, taut stomach, about what I’d find in the pyjama pants.
In our minds, we’re free, no matter how wrong or inappropriate the fantasy might be.
But while I worried he might hide from me inside the cabin, he ventured out on day one. The one gay couple in our village, Road and Clyde, brought him breakfast, and while I did crawl up to the windows, I only heard bits of conversation before they left, armed to the teeth with gossip.