Page 42 of The Ecstasy of Sin

Goosebumps erupt across my arms, and every tiny hair on my body stands on end. The aura of danger that surrounds him is unmistakable. It’s enough to trigger my memories of last night, making my heart thunder like a wild horse stampeding in my chest.

He’s watching me, his attention so razor sharp it feels like a dagger dragging lightly across my skin. When he moves again, my adrenaline kicks into overdrive. He drops his arms, and takes a step toward me.

I grab my backpack, and I run.

I run with every ounce of strength I can muster, my head flaring into a series of viciously brutal throbs that threaten to overwhelm me as my legs pump and carry me as far away as I can get, as fast as I can go.

By the time I reach the main street, I stumble against the nearest building, one hand slapping against the rough brick wall to keep me from collapsing. I try to breathe, my aching lungs protesting the abuse when they’ve already been through so much.

I can still feel his eyes on me. I can feel him watching from somewhere in the darkness. His presence is a living thing, a serpent wrapping around my senses and holding me hostage. I can’t see him, but I know he’s still there.

Terrified of what might happen if I linger, I force myself to keep walking despite the throbbing pain in my head. I walk foranother twenty minutes before the sight of the shelter comes into view.

Relief floods me, and tonight’s security guard nods to me as I race up the steps and wait for him to swipe his card and unlock the door for me.

I cast a glance over my shoulder, only to see someone standing like a statue in the shadows of the nearest building. His head dips as he nods in recognition, before he takes a step back and disappears from my view.

Oh my god.

Was that Dominic?

The security guard clears his throat, nodding pointedly at the door, and I cross the threshold with an unexpected feeling of reluctance. There’s a new woman I don’t recognize at the main desk, so I get through the sign in process with very little conversation.

When I finally make it to my cot, I set my backpack down and tuck it under the frame of the small bed.

My mind is racing as I think about what just happened, and then I remember that I can just text him and ask if he was the one following me tonight.

I strip off my jacket and crawl under the thin blanket, pulling my phone out of my pocket. Even with the brightness all the way down, it still hurts to stare at the screen.

I squint, and just as I open my chat with Dominic, a message comes in.

DOMINIC

I love it when you run from me.

My heart begins to race, this time for a different reason entirely.

ME

Was that you at the park?

DOMINIC

Who else would it be?

ME

Literally any one of the hundreds of creeps and weirdos living in Toronto!?

DOMINIC

Who says I’m not one of them?

The laugh that comes out of me is embarrassing, and I immediately slam my hand over my mouth when the woman in the cot next to me shushes me.

After being a social phantom for over a decade, heseesme, and my broken brain doesn’t care about the difference betweenprey and mate.

And his dark sense of humor? I’m surprised that I find it so damn charming.