“I have to go,” I say as a sudden thud comes from the direction of my bedroom.
“Oh…okay. Well, night.”
“Night.” I hang up and race into my room, only to find that he’s lying on his uninjured side, drawing my sheets over him. Once he’s settled, his eyes drift to me, widening. A whistle escapes through his teeth, low and strained. “Either I’m dead, or you’re a sadist, bunny.”
I glance down and feel my cheeks flame as I realize I’m still in my towel. “Neither,” I snap, turning to my hamper. I grab an oversized shirt and carry it into my closet, dressing in the dark with the door cracked.
When I emerge, he’s already out for a second time. It should be impossible for someone so big to look so…normal, lying there. He’s almost too large for my basic full, his feet dangling over the end of it.
A part of me still warns that I should call 911, but I creep into my living room without indulging in it. Curling up onto my couch, I close my eyes.
It should be far harder to fall asleep than it is.
Chapter Ten
I peel my eyes open to pale, gray daylight streaming in through my window. It takes only a second for the memories to descend. What happened last night and after… The new monster in my bed, his scent flooding my small apartment—and the familiar phantoms still lurking in my wake. As I stretch out my sore limbs, I catch myself eyeing my phone, too wary to pick it up just yet even though my text alert keeps pinging.
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
Instead, I enter the kitchen and rummage through the meager offerings in my fridge. Minutes later, I’m studiously frying eggs in what I’m sure is the only cooking appliance I own.
Golden light gradually floods in through the windows, and I can hear something stir from my bedroom. My one vain hope of Rafe deciding to crawl out via the fire escape during the night is dashed.
The only course of action preferable to facing that reality seems to be stirring the cooked eggs a few times and pouring a glass of water from the tap. Grim with apprehension, I carry both over to my bedroom door and peek inside.
He’s still on the bed, lying with his face obscured by a mound of crushed pillows.
“R-Rafe?” I cautiously creep forward and set the cup down on the nightstand before observing him in full. God, he’s too still… For a second, I consider the possibility that he’s dead. His skin is pale enough to make out the bluish veins snaking underneath. The bleeding from his leg has stopped, but there’s a sallow, grayish quality to the skin around the wound.
“Rafe?” Swallowing hard, I balance the eggs on one hand and nudge the edge of the mattress with my leg. “Are you awake—”
Without warning, his hand flies out and seizes my thigh, yanking me closer. The plate of eggs crashes to the floor, and I scramble to brace myself against the firmest surface within reach—his chest.
“Morning, bunny.” His voice is still hoarse, but his sly grin conveys anything but weakness. I lurch off him, staggering back.
Unconcerned, he turns his attention to the cup on the nightstand. “You cooked for me?” With a thoughtful expression, he eyes the food scattered over the floor. Then he pulls himself upright and shifts to throw his legs over the side of the bed, groaning all the while. At least he can move. His injured leg is bare from his thigh down, exposing taut muscle that doesn’t seem too damaged by the assault.
Wrenching my gaze away, I stoop for the eggs, scraping them into a pile. “Well, there isn’t any more, so—”
“Not so fast.” My arm is seized from behind, yanking me against a body that feels only slightly softer than a brick wall. “You may have helped me out of the goodness of your bleeding heart, rabbit,” he murmurs into my ear, sounding partly amused, partly suspicious. “Or… your little boyfriend could be waiting out there to arrest me or some shit?” He inclines his head toward the living room. “What did you tell him, huh?”
The accusation takes a split second to land. When it does, I’m already whirling on my heel to face him. “Tell him?” My shrill tone makes him wince. “If I did that, I wouldn’t have let you sleep here all night! I wouldn’t have scrubbed your blood from my floor… I-I wouldn’t have made you eggs because