Page 29 of White Noise

My back hits the wall, and his smile changes the second he notices.

Fuck.

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

His eyes drop to the knife, linger there for a second, then lift back to my face. “That little thing supposed to make you feel better?”

I hate how the way he says it gets under my skin immediately.

Not cautious. Not even curious. Amused.

Like I’m standing here with a fucking plastic spoon.

“Come closer and find out.”

His smile deepens.

“Mm. That’s cute.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, really.” He takes another step, completely unbothered by the blade between us. “Look at you. Both hands on it like that’s going to change what happens next.”

There’s nowhere left for me to go now.

The wall is cold against my back while he keeps closing the distance, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of how fucking big he is.

Tall enough that I have to tilt my chin to keep looking at him. Broad shoulders. Bare chest. Dark jeans sitting low on his hips. Every inch of him looks solid and real, which somehow makes this worse because my brain is still trying to catch up to the fact that the thing that has been living in static and screens is standing right in front of me.

And Jesus fucking Christ.

He’s hot.

That thought hits me so hard I almost get angry at myself.

Of course the terrifying electronic nightmare stalking me through my own house has to look like that.

Of fucking course.

His hair falls messily over his forehead, too pale against the darkness of his eyes, and there’s something about the way he looks at me that makes my stomach twist for an entirely different reason than fear.

It pisses me off that my body notices him at all. The warmth creeping over my skin when he gets closer, the hitch in my breathing, the way everything in me seems suddenly too aware of how little space is left between us.

And of course he notices every fucking bit of it.

Silas’s gaze moves over my face slowly.

“Maybe it will,” I say, lifting the knife higher.

My voice is steadier than I feel.

He lets out a quiet laugh.

“Aw, pretty echo. You actually believe that.”

I hate the way he says it. Like I’m stupid. Like this whole thing is already decided and I’m the only one in the room dumb enough not to know it yet.

“You want to test it?”