Page 14 of Within Shadows

Maeve

My head is enraged, pounding in time with my pulse and the sunlight breaking through the window isn’t helping anything.

I roll over, pulling the blankets over my head with a groan.

A faint whiff of a familiar, masculine cologne makes me stop and take a deep breath through my nose.

That smell reminds me of something, someone, but I can’t place who.

Memories flutter through my mind and I peer over the blankets, realizing quickly that the bed is cold and I’m alone.

Garrett must have slipped out earlier and that stings a little, but I force myself out from under the blankets.

My feet immediately tangle in my discarded pants and I end up stumbling before falling onto my side with a groan.

I roll onto my stomach and bury my face in my arms while my hip throbs angrily.

Heavy footsteps thunder down the hallway and Garrett grabs me off the ground.

“Maeve? Talk to me, did you hit your head?” His hands are gentle as he searches my body for any signs of injury while I brush my hair out of my face, even though I just want to hide.

“Took myself out with my own pants, not the first time and won’t be the last,” I sigh, rubbing my sore hip with a groan. Garrett blows out a breath and shakes his head at me, a small smile curling his lip as he helps me stand.

“You are your own enemy, Maeve,” he says. I massage my temple, groaning as my headache pounds harder. A rattling bottle catches my attention as Garrett walks out of the bathroom with a glass of water and hands me the bottle of pills.

“You’re my hero,” I nearly whine as I swallow the pills and water within two gulps, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as Garrett looks everywhere but at me.

“Wouldn’t have tripped if you were still wearing your pants,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his mouth as his face takes on a red shade. I grip the hem of his shirt that I’m wearing and tug it lower with a snort.

“You didn't mind looking between my legs yesterday.” I smirk. Garrett groans and turns on his heel to leave the room.

“Put some pants on and come eat, you tease,” he calls back and I can hear the smile in his voice. I stick my middle finger up but he’s already out of sight when I start shuffling through my clothes.

My hands tremble but I refuse to let the fear take over.

I’ve spent too much time afraid, watching over my shoulder and waiting for something, or someone, to jump out.

I told Garrett that I’m ready to come home, but actually being here was causing doubt to creep in.

But I had to face it eventually and hiding doesn’t fix anything.

Garrett’s warm hand gently cups my elbow as he draws my attention away from my front door and I mentally shake myself.

“Sorry, I spaced for a minute. Thank you again for everything. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” I smile up at him, but he frowns and brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face.

“I don’t need to be repaid for being a decent person.

Spending time with you is more than enough, Maeve.

I’ll always be here for you.” His serious tone makes my heart flutter, and I nod, letting him pull me into a tight hug.

Wrapped in his arms shouldn’t make it easier for me to breathe, but I feel safe here in his embrace.

“Well, you’ll have to make me breakfast more often, because that was seriously the best meal I’ve ever had.” He grins as we pull away and rolls his eyes at my words.

“Flattery will get you anything you want. I’m only a phone call away, okay?

” he says, opening the front door and waving at me as he reluctantly leaves.

The silence that falls through the house makes me fold my arms tighter around myself.

I drop onto the couch and stare at the dark screen of the TV, just letting my mind wander.

My phone chimes and I dig it out of my pocket, smiling at the message on the screen.

Garret: I miss you already, is that too clingy?

I bite my lip as I type out a response.

Me: Oh, that’s super clingy. I know, because I miss you, too.

He sends back a crying emoji, and I laugh at the absurdity of what’s happened. Atticus jumps into my lap and bumps his head on my hand until I finally pet him.

“I got to meet my favorite member from my favorite band. I started back at college and immediately met the most gentle man I’ve ever known, who also happened to save me when my psychotic ex broke into my house.

Then I started dating the gentle giant. What is happening to us, Atticus?

” I ask, and he chirrups, looking at me as if to say, ‘Us? This is all on you, human.’

“You’re right, Atticus. I need a nap,” I groan, sinking deeper into the couch as my cat purrs on my chest, content to sink his tiny claws into me as I stroke his fur. I finally turn on the TV, putting on a random movie as my eyes grow heavy and exhaustion overwhelms me.

My eyes fly open as I lurch upright, launching the now startled ball of fur as my head whips around to scan the room.

Somebody was knocking on my door, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to pass out.

Movement from the front porch catches my attention through the blinds as somebody walks away, and I finally regain control of myself.

Sitting forward, I peer through the blinds and watch the mailman as he whistles to himself, heading to the house next door.

“You idiot, it’s nothing,” I scold myself, curling my fingers in my hair as I bow my head and slow my breathing.

Once I feel in control, I find my phone on the floor and unlock it, pulling up my security cameras with a frown.

There’s a package sitting outside my door and a stack of letters sitting on top of it.

I open my door just far enough to snatch everything inside and kick it shut behind me, turning the bolt lock into place before I set everything on my counter and brush the letters aside.

Checking all sides of the package, I don’t see a label, until I finally notice my name written in scrawled Sharpie on one side. My first name—Thalia.

My parents flash into my thoughts, and I excitedly rip the package open.

Inside is a thick, black hoodie that I pull out first. As I open it, I almost squeal from excitement when I realize the printed front is from my favorite band.

Beneath the hoodie is also a smaller box that I tear open to find a black mug with bats on it.

I brush away a tear with a smile, and for a moment I debate calling my parents but stop myself.

What would I even tell them? They’d be stuck on their cruise, worrying over me or fighting to find a way to come home early, and I can’t do that to them.

My joy fades as I stare at the mail still sitting on the table, thoughts filling with uncertainty.

The last time Oliver snapped, he attacked me and Jess when she tried to defend me.

I can’t let him keep hurting those that I care about. I have to protect them.

My phone lights up from the table and I pick it up, reading the message from Garrett.

Garrett: Any chance you’ll come back if I tell you I’m actually afraid of the dark?

Me: I’ll get you a nightlight that matches mine.

I hit send and watch as he types back. His message is quick and makes me frown.

Garrett: Not a huge fan of bats.

I keep staring at the message as unease creeps in. “How does he know about my nightlight?” Atticus yawns as I speak out loud. The tiny bubbles pop up, showing he’s typing again. As if reading my thoughts, his next text comes through.

Garrett: Okay, I probably sound like a stalker. When we were there to get your door replaced, I may have peeked around a bit and noticed your nightlight sitting on the dresser.

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose as I drag myself into the kitchen. “Of course he’s seen your room, you paranoid idiot. I need to get a fucking grip.”

Atticus winds between my legs and chirps again, as if he’s agreeing with me, and I open the fridge without much hope of finding something decent to cook.

I slam the fridge shut and blink hard, then pull the door open and stare once again.

My previously sparse fridge is now full of all kinds of food that was obviously fresh, considering the vegetables and fruit.

Somebody had gotten into my house… and they stocked my fridge?

“Garrett, you’re either crossing boundaries or creating a complex here,” I grumble, a smile pulling on my lips as I look through my options.

Settling on a sandwich was easy enough, and I almost skipped back to the couch with a bottle of water in one hand and a plate in the other.

Before I eat, I send a picture to Garrett of my food and type up a quick message.

Me: I can’t decide if I should say thank you or yell at you.

I hit send and watch, waiting for him to read my message.

The minutes tick by, and I realize how absolutely desperate I look right now.

Without much thought I put on my favorite crime show and dig into my food.

By the time I finish eating and check my phone, Garrett still hasn’t responded.

I remind myself he’s busy and doesn’t have to respond the second I text him.

When a yawn makes my jaw stretch wide and eyes water, I finally drag myself to my room and dig out my favorite pair of pajamas.

Atticus follows me into the bathroom with curious eyes and I snicker when turning the water on.

He scrabbles to escape the room, twisting my fuzzy black bathroom rug up in his hurry.

I tap my speaker, turning on my favorite playlist before I fix the rug and drop my clothes to the floor.

Stepping into the cascade of steaming water is like climbing into a bubble of safety for me.

My mind slowly clears as my muscles relax, the hot water almost uncomfortable as I duck my head into it.

Humming to myself, I almost don’t register the sound of movement coming from the doorway until I catch something from the corner of my eye.

My head jerks sideways so fast that I almost lose my balance, but all I see is my cat darting past the door, and I groan to myself.

I stick my arm out of the shower and snatch my towel to dry off.

Atticus is meowing and protesting loudly in the other room, begging for a second dinner as usual, but I ignore him as I quickly dry off and get dressed.

My skin is prickling with the feeling of eyes on me, but I push the feeling aside, reminding myself that I’m just being anxious.

“There’s no monster lurking in the shadows, Maeve. You just need sleep. And to stop talking to yourself.” I flop onto my bed and my phone pings, drawing my attention to where it sits screen up on my bed. I nearly dive for it when Garrett’s name pops up, and I open the message quickly.

Garrett: I told you to stop thanking me, Maeve. Go to bed, you need your sleep.

I lay my phone on its charger and pull back the blankets.

“Go to bed, Maeve,” I mock his voice and stop as I lie down and grab my phone.

Me: I’m only going to bed because I’m tired, not because you told me to, bossy pants.

Garrett: Sweet dreams.

His response is instant, and I stare up at the ceiling, wondering how I’m going to actually get any sleep with my mind mulling over what it felt like to sleep next to him.

My thoughts turn deeper, towards what we did in his car, and it makes the heat pool low between my hips.

I roll over, wrapping my pillow around my head with a huff as my thighs clench.

The ache only builds, and I turn to lie on my back again.

My eyes drag across the room when the feeling of being watched grows with every breath.

Instead of pulling my blankets higher, the thought of being watched makes my need stronger, and my mind imagines Garrett standing at the foot of my bed.

Kicking the blankets off, I reach out to open my nightstand and drag out my vibrator without taking my eyes off the empty room.

My breath hitches when I click it on, the sound deafening in the otherwise silent room.

I slowly pull my shorts aside and swear I can hear the floor creak, but nothing and nobody is standing there.

My pulse races, thrumming in my ears as I gently press the toy to my aching clit.

My back arches, jerking my entire body from the overwhelming sensation.

Clenching my eyes shut, my imagination shifts.

It’s not Garrett standing over me, but it’s the familiar mask that Knox lurks behind.

His eyes are on me and he grips the rail of my footboard.

I try to shake the image and turn back to Garrett, but I can’t.

It’s Knox putting his hands on my thighs, spreading my legs so he can crush his mouth to my pussy.

I can even smell his cologne, that sharp and musky scent that wraps itself around me.

His name is the one I cry when my orgasm crests, ripping through my body with so much force that it steals my breath.

As I slowly come down and click the toy off, I struggle to slow my breathing while I stare at the ceiling.

What am I doing? I finally have a boyfriend, a genuinely wonderful one, and here I am fantasizing about a man that I’ve met once and wouldn’t even remember me if he saw me again.

The thought stings as I adjust my clothes and cover up with the blanket before throwing the vibrator back in my drawer.