Fuck.
My muscles spring into motion, and I take the stairs two at a time. The door to the back of the building opens with the same infuriating whoosh I heard downstairs when I pull on it.
Grinding my teeth, I storm out into the crisp night air, my eyes darting left and right.
Where did they go? Which way?
And who were they?
“Dammit,” I hiss into the night as realization sinks in. I’ll never get my answers.
The streets are too dark. New York is too big, with too many places to slip into and hide. The lack of cameras in the back of the building—one of the reasons I chose this building out of the dozens in the area—is another thing working against me.
What could they have heard, though?A voice whispers in my head, urging my racing heart to calm the fuck down.You spent plenty of money soundproofing the unit. You tested it yourself. You’re good.
A deep, steadying breath. Then another. A third.
After a few more, my pulse evens out.
My fight response dulls as reason takes over. I’m overworked; that’s why I can’t think straight.
At that, a strange yet not unwelcome thought filters in as I go back inside the building.
Maybe it’s time to cut back on my trials.
I can do it without risking my patients’ lives. If I lean harder into documenting domestic violence in my charts, order ultrasounds to highlight healed fractures, and run tests to prove a pattern, the police won’t be able to look the other way.
So far, I’ve taken pleasure in my work in the storage unit. I’ve learned a great deal from it.
But over the last few days, my priorities have shifted.
I’d much rather be with Lilith. Plus, I owe her a better version of myself, not one constantly worried about getting caught.
I can do that. I can be that person.
No, notcan.
I fucking will.
Lilith’s apartmentis quiet as I step inside.
My heart is anything but.
Something primal stirs in me as I look around me. I can feel my claim on every wall, every counter, and every piece of furniture. The feeling wasn’t half as strong when I arranged her surprise on the counter today. Back then, my mind insisted it was about showing her how much I love her. How devoted I am.
Now that she’s accepted it…
I ball one of my hands into a fist, biting the knuckles to suppress a groan.
She’s letting me take care of her.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
The city lights filtering in through the large windows guide me as I cross her living room. I’m at the start of the hallway leading to the bedrooms…