Page 91 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

Even with my ringer off, it’s hard to sleep through it when my cheek is pressed to the cool glass when it starts to vibrate. I groan at the feeling, not willing to open my eyes. I’m exhausted.

In the best way possible.

My phone vibrates against my face again as I sink into my memories of last night that are even better because I can still feel the soreness and the way my limbs feel heavy. I groan in protest, barely needing to open my eyes to know that I’m alone.

But the disappointment I feel when I see Cassian isn’t here is impossible to ignore. Even for me, and I like to think I’m an Olympic level pro at ignoring things and pretending they’ve never happened.

“Okay, okay,” I grumble at the third insistent vibration against my cheek. I sit up, curling my knees under me and grab for my phone blindly.

My curtains are drawn back. It takes me a few moments to realize that’s the reason my room feels so bright, and I gaze outside the large bay window thoughtfully. It certainly hadn’t been me who opened them, though. I prefer it dark and cool in my room, no matter the time of day. “Why would you open my curtains?” I mumble, as if Cassian can still hear me.

As if he isn’t long gone.

One more vibration from my phone has me looking down to where it rumbles against my palm. Blinking to clear my eyes I tap the glass screen, seeing a few messages from Lou and another, older one from a few hours ago.

From Cassian.

Except…I hadn’t given him my number.

That question is answered the second I open his message, and I can’t help but snort with a quick, incredulous roll of my eyes when I read over his words.

I put my number in your phone and called myself. So now I have your number, and you have mine. See you soon, sweetheart.

My stomach twists in an unfamiliar way while I read over the message a few times, as if I’ll see something else in the words that I didn’t read the first time. Like maybe I can read his thoughts or his mindset when he sent the text.

As I’m considering a reply, or if I should even send one, another message shows up on my screen, reminding me that Lou has been texting me for the past few minutes.

Hey, are you up?

I’m sorry. I know it’s early and I hate to ask, but can you babysit tonight? Not all night, just until ten or so. I’m sorry it’s so last minute.

Babysitting really hadn’t been part of my weekend plans, and a frown twitches at my lips. But being a babysitter seems to be my career of choice lately, apart from questionably unskilled diner waitress at The Pancake Plate. Neither of them seem to have any potential for advancement, unfortunately. Especially since I have zero interest in childcare or working a dead-end server job for the rest of my life.

If only I knew what I do want.

I’ve just sent off my reply, telling Lou I’ll be there whenever she needs me, when a distant noise brings my head up so I can look out the window once more.

“Not again.” My voice is low and hoarse. I sigh into the emptiness of my room as Doom hops up onto the bed, tail flicking back and forth as he purrs and creeps toward my lap. “Where’s Gloom, huh?” I murmur, scratching his head. I don’t look away from the window as the wailing gets louder, and once again I realize I’m about to be privy to at least two cop cars speeding down my street.

Biting my lip I wait, and sure enough two cars zip down the street, my heart twisting nervously, as if they’ll stop here for some reason. Like they did the other night when Cass broke in. “Keep going,” I plead softly, unable to look anywhere except out my window. “Please keep going.”

The grip around my heart loosens somewhat when the cop cars don’t stop outside of my house. I let out a breath even as they slow, turning onto a street adjacent to mine. From my view I can just see them stopping outside of a house a street over, though I have no idea who it belongs to. Not to mention, it’s too far away for me to see more than the flash of lights and the stark white of a cop car between houses.

Predictably, and almost like clockwork, my phone rings. I glance down, seeing Reagan’s name flash on the screen, and I can’t exactly be surprised. Not when she lives about four streets over in the direction the police have stopped. If I can hear them, so can she.

“What the fuck is going on?” she asks as soon as I hit the button to answer my phone and put it on speaker. “This is insane. There’s no way that another murder happened, right?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, getting to my feet and going to sit on the bench at my window. Curling my legs under me as I do, my nose nearly pressed to the glass as I look around my street. I’m not surprised to see my neighbors across the street are already out on their porch, though when they realize that the action is on the other side of their house they head back in, probably to spy through the windows, much like I’m doing. “I don’t know who’s house that is either. Can you see anything?” Between us I figure we can set up some kind of sad little surveillance network. All we need is a third and fourth and we’d have a perfect square around the neighborhood for learning everyone’s business.

“Not a thing. I saw an ambulance go by and I can sort of see where they’re stopped, but it’s too far away from my house. Plus, the Browns have their Halloween decorations up, so all I can see are cringey inflatables and shit.” She sounds annoyed, and I’m nice enough not to remind her that as a child and teenager she’d loved their decorations and begged me to ask if they’d put them up early.

Sometimes I miss the kid that Reagan used to be. Even though the adult she is now is great and I’d consider her one of my best friends. Or rather, really my only friend in Hayden Fields, apart from my nephew and sister.

But saying I’m friends with a nine-year-old feels a little bit pathetic, and I’m pretty sure my sister is legally obligated to be my friend when she wants me to babysit for her.

“Maybe it’s something normal. Like a prank? I told you someone called the cops out to my house the other night, right? They said someone reported a disturbance or something. It totally had to be a prank.” My fingers drum lightly against the cold glass as I stare at the space between houses as though someone is going to part the walls like Moses did with the red sea.

“Yeah, you did tell me that. That was weird. But would there be an ambulance for a prank call like this? That seems, I don’t know, excessive if it’s just a disturbance call.” But her voice waivers, and I can hear the uncertainty in her tone. Neither of us has any idea what could be going on.