Page 4 of Only in the Dark (Bound By Darkness Duet #1)

Olivia Mercer

The piercing ring of my doorbell abruptly broke the delicate strands of sleep, pulling me up from the hazy depths of an unusual night.

I shuffled out of bed, my feet finding the cool wood of the floor, and started down the stairs.

Each step sent a faint protest through my legs and shoulders, my muscles feeling like they’d been poured full of cement overnight, every movement heavier than it should’ve been.

When the living room came into view, I noticed Sarah was still sprawled across my couch like it was her own.

Her bat was wedged between her side and the back cushion.

Her head lolled against the armrest, dark hair falling over her face, breathing slow and steady.

The doorbell had rung right beside her, but she hadn’t stirred—not exactly the image of a capable bodyguard.

Opening the front door, I watched as a car drove away, leaving someone’s groceries behind. Behind me, I heard groaning, and turned to see Sarah sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “You got groceries delivered?” she asked, her voice groggy and hoarse.

I shook my head. “Nope. Never have. The store is like two blocks away,” I responded.

At my words, Sarah’s eyes flew open, razor-sharp with alertness, her fingers curling tight around the bat as if ready to swing.

The groceries were dropped off by someone in a white car who had driven away, so no threat remained.

Someone probably delivered them to the wrong address by mistake.

A few of my older neighbors had their groceries delivered weekly.

I once offered to pick up something for Susan, who lived two houses away, but she mentioned that she received a weekly delivery.

I’d never pay for a service when I could drive myself.

Sarah walked up and grabbed the bag with a receipt and a note stapled to it, bringing it into my kitchen. I grabbed the rest of the bags, figuring I’d bring them inside until I figured out who they belonged to.

“I’m sure they got delivered to the wrong house,” I said, setting the bags down on my counter.

I opened the bags to look, and they were filled with all of my favorite items that I was running low on—Oreos, cheese dip, my favorite salad mixture, milk, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and much more.

There was even a box of dog treats. The idea that these were somehow delivered to me intentionally freaked me out.

A sudden thump echoed in my chest as my heart picked up speed, pounding against my ribcage.

My hands grew clammy, and tiny beads of sweat began to form on my palms, making them slick and slightly sticky.

“I don’t think it was a mistake. There’s a note,” Sarah said.

I turned to see her face pale as a ghost. It wasn’t a good sign if something spooked Sarah of all people.

She was more fearless than I could ever be.

If anything, Mother should’ve taken her instead.

That was why I never told her anything about Sarah, knowing they’d want her, too.

It would’ve been nice to have been raised as sisters, but I wanted a better life for her—a safe life away from danger.

I had to pretend I had no friends, but it was mostly true. I had only one true friend.

Olivia,

Enjoy my gift. I took note of what you were low on to replace it for you. Maybe one day I’ll send you some of my favorites to try, or maybe one day I’ll cook you dinner or have my favorite meal delivered. I want to take care of you, and this is the only way I can for now.

“He had enough time to search your cabinets to make a grocery list for you. And you didn’t even know it,” she pointed out. “I’d like free groceries too in this economy, but bitch, this is freaky. You need to go next weekend to figure out who this is,” she suggested.

I wanted to avoid the topic, so I didn’t respond to her insane idea. “I don’t think there’s a threat. You should head home, and if I run into any more trouble, I’ll call you. Promise.”

“I know you’re just trying to get rid of me so we don’t have to talk about it.”

I rolled my eyes. “I have things to do,” I lied.

I planned to do nothing but sit at home.

I was going to head to the grocery store today, but now I didn’t need to.

Someone took care of that for me. Whoever it was didn’t know I liked to take care of myself.

It certainly wasn’t Matthew, since he never bothered to do anything useful.

I thought about calling him over, but the idea of seeing him while dealing with this mess gave me hives. I wanted to avoid him while I could.

“Fine. You’ll get rid of me for now. But call me the minute something feels off, and I’ll be here.

Promise,” Sarah said. She brought me into a hug before leaving, setting her bat on my kitchen island.

I shook my head. She knew I wouldn’t use it, and I already had pepper spray in my room, but I guess a bat wouldn’t hurt to keep under my bed.

My spray was in my nightstand drawer on the side of the bed I slept closer to.

I had a knife hidden under my pillow for dire emergencies.

I had to hope it didn’t come down to using it on someone, but I had a thought about why I felt so tired, groggy, and weak lately. Tonight, I’d test out my theory.

* * *

That night, I stuck to my usual routine.

I sipped on my tea, snuggled with Pixie, and put on HGTV to help me drift off.

It always worked quickly for me. There was something about watching wealthy individuals with peculiar professions hunt for pricey homes that lulled me to sleep.

Perhaps I was dreaming, but I could have sworn last week one of the guys claimed his job was painting rocks.

It wasn’t like I could trust my mind anymore.

The only difference was that, this time, I wasn’t asleep—I was pretending, luring my stalker to my room so I could see who he was once and for all.

I suspected there was something wrong with my tea.

It was the only routine I maintained each evening, yet for weeks I’d been feeling sluggish, fatigued, and drained.

Tonight, when I didn’t experience those feelings, I realized my suspicion was right.

I had no idea how he had spiked my tea, or what he used.

It was dumb since something could’ve easily gone wrong.

For all he knew, I could’ve been allergic to whatever he slipped into my drink.

He was an irresponsible stalker, putting me in harm’s way to appease his curiosity.

But what could anyone expect of a stalker who threatened them?

He clearly didn’t have great morals, but one could say the same about a woman who killed people.

The outside of my bedroom had a balcony with a wooden ladder attached to it.

I kept my door locked, but I guess I hadn’t thought about the window until I heard him opening it from the other end.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, each inhale sharper than the last, while my heart pounded relentlessly in my ears.

My fingers trembled, and a cold sweat prickled at the back of my neck as anxiety tightened its grip on me.

I was on the verge of being confronted with my nightmare—someone who had been stupid enough to drug me, visit me in my sleep, and threaten me.

It must’ve shown how my faux sweet and innocent persona had been working for me.

I squeezed my eyelids shut and focused on taking slow, steady breaths, hoping he wouldn’t notice I had been faking being asleep. The room was silent, leaving me unsure of his exact location and heightening my sense of vulnerability.

“I can tell you’re awake, Little Serpent, but how?

I watched you drink your tea.” His tone was sinister, the edge in his words making my breath hitch and my body freeze.

What if he had a weapon and planned to kill me?

Here I was with my eyes shut, inviting a stalker in.

One who had made threats against my boyfriend.

“I switched my tea with duplicate mugs. You thought you were watching me drink drugged tea, but it wasn’t,” I admitted. “Are you here to kill me?” I asked softly. I had weapons within my reach if he tried.

I felt the bed dip underneath me, and felt a warm, leather-gloved hand pushing my hair behind my ear.

He was behind my back while I lay on my side.

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his mouth so close to my ear his warm breath sent tingles down my spine.

“I’d kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on you.

Even Matthew, if you let him touch you again,” he growled.

“I tend to like it when men give me their fingers,” I stupidly mumbled.

He groaned. “You’re killing me, Little Serpent.

If it’s a finger you want, you don’t need anyone else’s but mine.

” I felt his fingers caressing down my arm and side, his hand then resting on my lower abdomen as if seeking permission to go further.

My breathing deepened, but I didn’t reject him, instead shifting to lay on my back.

“Keep your eyes closed, or you’ll be punished.

Right now, we can only be together in the dark. ”

He was dangerous, but not for the reasons most people might assume.

His danger wasn’t a physical threat, but in his ability to lure out the shadowy corners of my soul.

He had a way of coaxing forth the fractured pieces of me that I had meticulously concealed, threatening to expose the darkness I desperately tried to keep buried beneath the surface.