Page 51 of On Your Life

“I had hoped you’d like these.” His voice is calm. “I wanted you to see what will soon be growing from your grave.”

He says it like we are just having a casual conversation. Not like he’s fantasizing about my future in a premature burial plot.

“I didn’t kill him.” My words come out in a hiss. “Did you even go to the fucking trial?”

He moves so quickly that I barely have time to react before I have to lean backward to keep him from smashing his head into mine.

“Then who did?” he growls.

His eyes bore into mine but they don’t look the same as they did a few days ago. Exhaustion creeps in at the edges and something that almost resembles doubt.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

I hold his gaze, determined to stand my ground even though I’m still firmly laid across the floor.

He looks over his shoulder for a moment before returning his attention to me. Alarm bells sound off in my head at the predatory look in his eyes.

“I wonder…” he murmurs.

I don’t get the chance to ask what he means before he grabs me by the collar and his lips slam into mine.

My brain short circuits. For one terrifying second I don’t know what to do with the collision of anger, fear, and the attraction I have spent days trying to bury.

A hunger like I have never known comes to life at the feeling of his lips against mine. It feels like he’s starving for air and I’m all of the oxygen he has left.

Then he stops.

“Run, little killer.”

Something about the way he’s looking at me tells me to listen. I’m not sure if tonight is the night that he carries through with his promise but I’m not sticking around to find out.

I sprint through the doorway before he can even stand. The long line of offices blur. I run until my lungs burn, barely slowing long enough to badge out of the area and into the hallway.

Where am I even going to hide? I don’t know this place. The only area I know is my pod, and there is no way in hell I’m stupid enough to run back there.

I spin around, panic clawing its way up my throat, before turning in the opposite direction. He’ll expect me to go somewhere familiar.

That desire from earlier still lingers beneath my skin. Part of me wants to see what he’ll do if he finds me. The other part wants him to crawl back into whatever circle of hell that he crawled out of.

My feet pad softly on the tile floors, the same thing repeating over and over in my head to dampen the noise—heel, toe, heel, toe. I stop in front of a large set of double doors and shove my way through.

Darkness swallows me. An exit sign casts a faint red glow across the room, reflecting off of stainless-steel appliances and long metal counters.

The kitchen. I’ve never been in here before. Which means I’m definitely not supposed to be. Perfect.

Then I hear it. The faint squeak of his boots coming down the hallway at an infuriatingly lazy pace.

I scan the room frantically. Tons of cabinets and shelves line the walls. I spot one cabinet large enough to hide inside and decide it’s as good as any.

I squeeze myself between pots and pans, pulling the door almost completely shut behind me. His footsteps are getting closer.

The kitchen door slams open and I hold my breath. A thin sliver of light cuts through the crack in the cabinet door. It’s my only view of what’s waiting outside.

“Come out, come out, little killer.” His voice carries through the darkness. He runs one hand along the kitchen island as he moves around the room. “You know, I’m not sure if I’m ready to kill you yet. Your company is starting to grow on me.” My breaths come out faster. “I would be so bored without our little games.” He moves closer. “Do you look forward to seeing me, little killer?” He bends down to check under the counter. My pulse kicking up a notch. “Are you hoping to feel me inside of you again?” He opens a cabinet and tsks. My hand flies over my mouth. “I can’t get that sound out of my head, you know? That breathy moan you do when my cock hits just the right spot.” He pauses and listens. I hold my breath until he starts opening cabinets again. “I can’t wait to be buried between your legs again like you’ve buried yourself inside of my fucking head. You’ve dug beneath my skin like a fucking parasite. Now, it’s my turn.”

A sinister laugh escapes him that sends chills down my spine. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t think about him. As far as psychopaths go, he is unfortunately the best looking one I’ve seen.

That doesn’t excuse the fact that he is out for blood for no goddamn reason. I don’t believe a word he says. He’s baiting me, terribly.