What If You & Me (Say Everything #2) - Roni Loren Page 0,19

had to leave WorkAround at night. Covering these cases and managing her anxiety was a fine line to walk every day.

Horror and true crime gave her an outlet to process her anxiety in a safe way. After what she’d been through as a teenager, she’d worried that she was demented for finding solace in this stuff, but her therapist had explained that it wasn’t uncommon. She’d given Andi a stack of research articles to show her she wasn’t alone. Andi had learned that the majority of true-crime enthusiasts were women. And horror movies and fiction were as popular with women as they were with men. Her therapist had said watching horror or studying true crime could act almost like exposure therapy, women looking their biggest fears straight in the face and coming up with mental plans for how they could keep themselves safe.

For instance, with Janice’s story, Andi wanted her listeners to hear that trusting the this-guy-makes-me-uncomfortable feeling wasn’t only valid, it could be lifesaving. And not to let others dismiss their instincts.

It was one of the main reasons Andi had started the podcast. She wanted to shine light on things that often remained in the dark otherwise. Scary stories gave people fuel to protect themselves. Those stories gave them proof that their fears or bad feelings or instincts weren’t “overreacting” or “being silly.” There was power in knowing that. In not letting society gaslight you into thinking you were being paranoid if you carried mace or sent a photo of the guy you were going home with to a friend or didn’t accept a drink that you didn’t see poured. Knowledge truly was power.

Which was why it annoyed Andi so much when she got podcast reviews from the haters. She had loads of five-star reviews, but of course, her eyes always went straight to the ones and twos when she checked them. Tonight, she’d had:

LollyVR4: People who listen to this shit and exploit these crimes are sick in the head.

BroWhoa62: This show is called What Can We Learn from This? I’ve learned not to listen. She makes it sound like every guy in the world is a psychopath.

Mayh3m: This chick probably watches true-crime shows and horror movies instead of porn to get off. I’ll tie you up, baby.

The last one she was able to flag and get removed. But the reviews had also inspired her to open a bottle of wine for her evening podcast shift. She huffed, getting frustrated all over again, and pulled off her headphones. She clicked on a file and inserted an audio clip from the documentary on Janice Walters’s murder.

Footsteps sounded on the other side of her wall and she frowned. The werewolf was prowling around again. Always heard, never seen. An image of Hill answering the door shirtless rushed back into her mind. Her tongue had nearly rolled out of her head like a cartoon character when she’d been greeted with that view. The man was built like a fucking gladiator. One who’d been through war. Next to the line of dark hair that had disappeared into his waistband, he’d had a swath of skin that was raised and pink with an almost melted texture. Burn scars.

The sight of him had made her blush, but it’d also made her heart hurt. This man had survived a horror. In that moment, that fear she always had around new men had softened some at the edges. She’d wanted to know more about him. She’d gone inside with him despite all the warnings that had automatically run through her head.

No one knows I’m here.

He’s a stranger.

He’s big and strong and could overpower me.

Being a victim of something doesn’t mean he’s not a bad guy.

Freddy Krueger had burn scars.

But the worries had been unfounded. He hadn’t murdered her. In fact, he’d been nice and quietly funny, and she’d thought they’d made headway with the possibility of becoming friends. But she’d been wrong. It’d been almost two weeks since she’d brought those brownies over, and the handful of times she’d seen him outside, he’d given her a quick wave and then headed inside without a word. Dismissed.

He clearly didn’t want to be friends.

Which was his prerogative but also kind of sucked. She didn’t want awkwardness with the neighbor. But more than that, she was frustrated that she’d read the situation so wrong. That day at his house, she’d felt like they’d made a connection. He was clearly going through some stuff. She’d pieced together that his disability had