Page 47

A rush of cold wind blows past us outside but my insides are molten with anticipation.
“This way.” He puts his arm around me, pulling me into him.
A tremble passes through me, but it’s not from the cold. My heart is pounding and my skin feels alive with a nervous energy, every part of me yearning for his touch.
This is it. Two years of fantasising, of hoping, of imagining being with him, and it’s finally going to happen.
My blood rushes through me with an unfamiliar strength, settling deep in my core where it transforms into a need so bad that it takes all my willpower not to push him up against the wall here and now.
We must be nearly back when we turn a corner and see the headlights of a car stopped at the junction, its passenger door open. There’s no traffic light and no obvious reason for it to have stopped.
Out of nowhere, a figure of a man appears on the road and dashes towards the car, stopping in front of the headlights as he spots us. A reflection of the streetlight catches my eye and I gasp, the unmistakeable gleam of a knife in the man’s hand. His eyes look up at the same moment mine do, and for a split second, his icy glare burns into me before he jumps back in, slamming the door as the car speeds off.
I swallow and a sinking feeling pulls me down, settling low in my stomach.
Those eyes.
Marcus pulls me over to the brick wall behind us, hiding us in the shadow. The street is almost entirely dark, the dim streetlamp casting an eerie orange glow over the pavement. Marcus looks around cautiously, waiting.
“Don’t move.” He takes a step towards the road, but my fingers tighten around his hand.
“Where are you going?”
What in the world is going on?
My hands tremble as I follow his gaze to the opposite side of the road, landing on what looks like a figure laying on the ground. I gasp, my hand shooting up to my mouth.
My instinct is to run, but Marcus gives me a stern look. “Don’t. Move.”
His hand slips from mine as he turns away and walks across the road, quickly glancing back.
The wind howls around me as it pierces my coat, chilling me to the bone.
My breath catches in sharp, uneven gasps, my whole body trembling.
I watch Marcus’s shadow in the dark as he crouches down and looks at the figure for a long moment before quickly walking back to me.
“Let’s go.”
He grabs my elbow and pulls me forward, his long strides forcing me into a jog to keep up with him.
I want to speak, to ask what he saw, to suggest we call the police, something, but I hold my tongue.
We walk in silence the rest of the way, his pace finally slowing as I recognise his car in the drive. Looking around cautiously, we stop outside his front door as he quickly glances up and down the street and unlocks it, ushering me in.
A light turns on as I hear him lock the door behind us, and I suddenly feel lightheaded and queasy. Shock and fear collide with the dizzying reality of finally being alone with Marcus, making my head spin. I draw in a deep breath, trying to centre myself, but it’s useless. My thoughts spin out uncontrollably, racing a million miles per minute.
You’re. In. Marcus. Andersson’s. House! Was that a fucking person on the ground? Was he dead? It’s so warm in here. And Marcuslooks amazing. Oh God, I can’t wait to see him without his clothes. But someone might be dead just down the street! And why didn’t I hear anything? Who was the person getting back in the car? Those eyes… No, stop it, forget about it, you’re in Marcus’s house! But someone is dead!
My thoughts swirl in an endless stream of chaos.
Trying to steady myself, I take a long deep breath in, count to five, and let it out.
The warmth of the house seeps into me, wrapping around me like a warm hug. The house feels like Marcus, a safety blanket that promises everything will be okay.
The hallway is painted a soft grey, with a white banister leading up a set of grey carpeted stairs. A thin white table stands in the hallway between two internal doors, containing a bowl with a few coins, two unopened envelopes and a small plant pot.
“Are you alright?” Marcus asks.