“Don’t.” His voice snaps like a whip. He stands abruptly, tension vibrating off him. “I don’t want to talk about Jenny.” An undercurrent of something dark threads through the words.
I swallow hard. “Sorry.”
His shoulders sink. He moves toward me slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. “No. I’m sorry.” He pulls me up gently and folds me into him. I hesitate, then wrap my arms around him.
But the reminder lingers—how volatile this man really is.
32
My Angel Is Scared
Eli's Search History: how to track a burner phone used for threats
Emily
OnthejourneybackI feel eyes on us again. I swear I’m being watched. But if I tell Eli, I’m scared he’ll lock me up again. That he’ll take away my freedom.
So I remain quiet despite the anxiety clawing at my insides.
Eli orders pizzas for dinner, deciding that cooking is too taxing tonight.
I head up to bed early, exhaustion pressing behind my eyelids after the whirlwind of emotions today has put me through.
My phone vibrates just as my mind begins to drift. Groggily, I slap my hand out in search of the device.
Anonymous:He can’t keep you safe from what’s coming.
I shoot up, blinking as if hoping I’m reading the words wrong.But they don’t change.
The phone vibrates again in my hands.
Anonymous:Don’t fight the inevitable. This is happening.
I drop it, my hand clutching my throat. Gasping, I reach for the water beside the bed and gulp it greedily. My hands tremble around the glass.
It’s Gia. It must be. She’s found me.
I won’t be able to keep this from Eli. I don’t even think I want to anymore. But I want one more day, before everything implodes.
So I keep quiet. Even when Eli slips into bed beside me and covers my back with his body, pulling me closer so I’m snug against him. Even then, I don’t tell him about the danger lurking right outside.
Sunday passes quickly. Neither of us leave the house, instead I spend the day reading. Surprisingly—or not—Eli does the same. He hums quietly as he takes in the story. It’s kind of adorable.
When darkness finally hits, I head upstairs to change.
As I’m pulling the curtains closed, I freeze. Because someone is staring directly up at me from below.
I can’t look away. Neither do they.
“What are you looking at?”
I jump, hand on my throat, turning to face Eli who’s leaning against the doorframe.
“I—” I flick my eyes outside again. “Nothing.”
Eli’s gaze narrows in. He strides towards me, scanning the street outside the window. “What did you see?”
“It’s really nothing—”