3.

Mega

I walk back into the house, the screen door creaking shut behind me. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Lash. His intense eyes, the way his tattoos ripple across his callus skin, the strength in his grip. I"ve never been so quickly and inexplicably drawn to someone before, but suspicion lingers. There's just something I can't put my finger on about him…

I"m about to pass the living room when my phone rings again, the sound slicing through the quiet like a knife. I freeze, staring at the couch where I left it. Anxiety coils in my stomach, making it hard to breathe. I don't want to answer. I don"t want to hear that voice again. But something compels me to, some twisted sense of obligation or curiosity.

With trembling hands, I pick up the phone. "Hello?" My voice is barely a whisper.

The silence on the other end is deafening, but it only lasts a second before the voice speaks. "I told you not to hang up on me."

My knees buckle. "Stop this…"

"Why?" he says, low and intimate, like he"s whispering in my ear. My heart skips a beat, a cold dread settling in my chest. "I"m just watching," he continues. "You look beautiful this evening. I love the way your hair falls over your shoulders, how it shines in the sunlight.."

I glance around the room, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Where are you?" I demand, my voice trembling.

"Everywhere," he replies, his tone calm and almost soothing, which makes it even more terrifying. "You have such a lovely smile. It lights up your whole face. And when you laugh, it gets me so hard I almost want to strangle you for doing this to me."

I swallow, my hand gripping the edge of the table. "Are you going to hurt me?"

He chuckles softly, a sound that sends chills down my spine. "Hurt you? No. I'm dying to touch you. To feel your skin against mine."

A wave of nausea hits me. "Leave me alone," I manage to say.

"You can"t hide from me," he says, his voice turning dark and possessive. "I know where you live. I see you every day. I see the way you move, the way you dress."

Terror grips me. My mind races, trying to remember if I"ve seen anyone suspicious, anyone who might be following me.

His voice drops in octave. "The way you try to reject the world, reject men… it makes you even more beautiful. Unique."

"You're scaring me," I whisper, my voice shaking.

"Then let me kiss it better," he says softly. "I could hold you, save you, make you feel things you"ve never felt before."

"You"re sick," I spit out, anger and fear battling for dominance. "Stay away from me, you psychopath!"

"Psychopath is such a derogatory term," he replies, his voice softening again. "And psychopaths don't feel what I feel. You're inside of me and I can't get you out. You've violated me."

My heart is pounding, my mind reeling. I violated him? How can he say that when he's the one who has invaded my most private spaces. He's not in bed with me, but he might as well be.

Shuddering, I wince when my knees threaten to cave. "What do you want?" I manage to say, my voice cracking.

"Isn't it obvious?" The voice sighs, almost sorrowful now. "I just want to be loved, Meggie."

The words send a chill down my spine. He knows my name. I let out a startled cry and hang up, my fingers now numb. My heart races as I stand there, the silence of the house pressing in on me. I glance out the window, towards Lash"s house, largely hidden by the large trees.

I want to run over there and seek his protection. Lash is big and strong. Dangerous. He won't hesitate to take on a madman. Maybe I'd ask him to come and look around the house? But the thought makes me hesitate. I don't want to come across as a coward or as crazy.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I head upstairs, every creak of the old house making me jump. Once in my bedroom, I shut the door, even though I know a closed door won"t keep out my fears. The room feels different now, the shadows filled with potential threats.

I crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The quilt that used to feel so warm and safe now feels suffocating. The sounds of the bayou, once soothing, are now ominous. Every rustle of leaves, every distant croak of a frog, feels like a whisper of danger.

I wish I'd handled the situation with Lash better. I wish I could trust him, could run to him and let him protect me. But I barely know him. I swallow, thinking I'll go over to him tomorrow and get to know him better. I could use a confidant.

Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, though my sleep is far from peaceful. I toss and turn, my dreams filled with shadows and whispers, with intense eyes and inked skin. The voice echoes in my mind, a haunting refrain of "I just want to be loved."

I wake several times, my heart pounding, before finally drifting into a fitful, restless sleep. The feeling of being watched never leaves me.