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Not a single person.
I step onto the porch, my foot snagging on something, and I trip, but thankfully catch myself and don’t go flying face first into the dirt and look like a fool in front of Felix. I can’t make myself look stupid in front of him. I need him to love me. To like me as much as I like him.
So far, it seems I’m failing at that, considering everything I do is just… wrong.
When I right myself, I look down and spot a small brown box.
I pick it up and see the address is for this house, but the name Karen Brown definitely isn’t me…
Must have been the woman I killed. Sucks she ordered this and never got it. Just means she won’t miss it though.
I walk back into the house and lock the door.
“Well?” Felix calls as I walk back to the bedroom, shaking the box. It’s not too heavy, and doesn’t sound like anything breakable. Hopefully, it’s something that I can enjoy since she won’t.
“Just a delivery,” I say with a shrug of my shoulder, then hop on the bed and tear open the box.
Felix moves over to watch me, and I’m not sure how he’s even standing. He passed out multiple times from being so hungry. He still hasn’t eaten, yet here he is.
Here he is.
I really hope my brother doesn’t find out about him. I’ll be in so much trouble.
Inside the brown box is another box. I pull it out. On it is a picture of… well, I’m not sure what it is.
A choked sound leaves Felix, and he takes a step back.
“You ordered that thing?”
I frown and hold it up. “What is it?”
His eyes widen, then his mouth opens and closes. “Someone sent you that?”
“No, it’s not mine.”
“Then why did you open it?”
“Because I live here now…”
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “It is a federal offense to open someone else’s mail, don’t you know that?”
“I have no idea what a federal offense is, so no…”
“How long have you been up here?”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering how he knows I’m not from here. I didn’t tell him. Can he sense it? He may be able to, but I can’t be sure. Still, I want him to trust me, and I guess that means I should trust him.
“Twelve days. Are you going to tell me what this thing is?” I thrust the box at him and he shakes his head.
“I… I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? Why not?”
“Because it’s a… you use that with…”
His eyes flick to the box, then to me, and something in his eyes changes. They somehow grow darker, and his face loses every ounce of worry that was just there.
“It’s a sex toy,” he says breathlessly, sounding almost pained.
