Chapter Three: When Panic Sets In
Jamie's POV.
Seven days.
Seven whole days since he walked out and I still wake up with his name on my tongue and his come dried on my thighs.
I'm disgusting.
I know I am.
I haven't washed the sheets. I keep telling myself it's because I'm tired, but that's bullshit. I press my face into his pillow and breathe him in like some psycho.
I still jerk off to the memory of him calling me princess while he split me open. I hate myself so much and I still want more.
I'm wiping tables at closing, legs dead, brain mush, when the TV in the corner flashes red.
BREAKING NEWS.
I don't even know why I turn the volume up. My thumb just does it.
"…police have released a composite sketch of the prime suspect in the murders of Riverside Pharmaceuticals CEO Victor Huang and local businessman Silas Adams…"
Silas.
The suit guy. The one I spilled coffee on. The one Leo…god, even thinking the fake name hurts…threatened like it was nothing.
Then the sketch fills the screen.
I drop the rag….My knees actually buckle. It's him….It's him it's him it's him.
Same sharp jaw I kissed. Same mouth that told me I was a good boy.
Same eyes that went soft when he came inside me and ice-cold when he looked at Mark's broken face.
I can't breathe.
The anchor keeps talking like she's reading the weather. "Suspect is armed and extremely dangerous… do not approach… tip line…"
I'm shaking so hard the counter rattles.
He's a killer….A real assassin.
And I let him fuck me. I begged him. I cried for him…I fell asleep in his arms like a stupid little kid who thought someone finally wanted him.
My phone is right there. The tip line number is glowing on the screen.
Call, Jamie….Call right now.
But I can't move.
Because he knows my name, my address.
What I sound like when I come.
If I talk, he'll know…And he'll come back.
Not to hold me.
To shut me up forever.
I lock the cafe with fingers that won't stop trembling. I check the door five times. Six.
Walk home looking over my shoulder like a crazy person. Every shadow is him.
Every footstep behind me is him. Some random guy lights a cigarette two blocks away and I almost scream.
I slam my apartment door so hard the frame cracks a little. Deadbolt. Chain. The stupid extra lock I bought the day after he left because I was already scared of everything.
I yank every blind shut. Room goes black.
Then I lose it.
I slide down the door and ugly-cry so hard my throat bleeds. Snot everywhere. Can't breathe. Hugging my knees like that's gonna protect me from a professional killer.
I'm terrified.
I'm so fucking terrified.
But the worst part?
The sick, twisted, horrible part?
I still miss him.
I still reach for him in bed. I still get hard remembering how safe I felt with his arms locked around me. I still whisper "Leo" into the dark like a prayer.
I'm scared he's gonna kill me…
and I'm more scared he's never coming back.
I cry until there's nothing left. Then I just sit there shaking, listening to every creak in the building like it's him coming to finish what he started.
I don't sleep…Not that night…Not for weeks.
*****
THREE MONTHS LATER
I'm a walking corpse.
I flinch when tall guys walk into the cafe. I triple-check locks. I keep a knife under my pillow like that'll stop him. I haven't had a full night's sleep since the sketch aired.
I'm restocking sugar packets, trying to act normal, when I heard the bell above the door rings.
My whole body locks up.
I know that silhouette before I even turn.
Black coat. Broad shoulders. The way he fills the doorway like he owns the whole damn city.
He steps inside.
The air changes.
My heart is in my throat.
He came back.
He's here.
And he's looking straight at me with those same killer eyes.
Only this time… they're soft. Like the night he kissed me stupid and made me believe I mattered.
"Jamie."
One word. My name in that rough voice and my knees almost give out.
I should scream.
I should run.
I should grab my phone and end this nightmare.
But I can't move.
Because he's looking at me like I'm the only thing he's been living for these past three months.
He takes one slow step closer.
I'm shaking so hard the sugar packets rattle in my hand.
I'm terrified and I hate myself.
"Jamie", a voice, Sofia drew my attention. I look back at the door but no one was there.
"You have been staring at the door for a while now, are you okay?", she asked concerned.
I just nodded, I definitely not…so paranoid to the extent I am seeing him.
Next time, I see him…it might be real and not an illusion.