Page 21 of Bloodstained Chrome

A book sits on the table.

A book that wasn’t there when I left.

I glance around, seeing that everything else is still perfectly in place, except for the book. Why would I leave a book there?

My eyes continue to scan the room. There’s nothing missing, but I notice a few things are out of place. Nothing that would scream for attention, but still not where I left them.

Someone had been in my house.

“Hello?” I call out before focusing my gaze on the dark area of the house I have yet to make my way to.

I don’t feel any other presence here. I don’t even smell anything out of the ordinary.

I reach around the corner and flick the bedroom light on. I peek in to see the room is just as empty as I left it. Yet something is out of place, and my eyes settle on my bed. I made my bed this morning when I got up, but now there are obvious wrinkles in the blanket. Wrinkles that look as if someone had sat there recently.

It feels as if the walls are closing in on me.

It has to be Primal.

Is he really so cruel as to try to scare me like this?

It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Who else would do something like this?

I can’t control my breathing, and I sink to the floor as tears pour from my eyes. There’s not much I can’t handle on my own, but this not knowing is one of them. The uncertainty is making me feel like I’m losing my mind. From thinking I’m losing my abilities to finding out they might be getting stronger. To learning that Primal may have a bigger part to play in my life than I assumed, and now this—coming home to find someone has been in here. That someone is trying to terrorize me.

It’s all too much.

I need to get to the bottom of this, and I need this to end.

A surge of resolve rushes through me.

If I want this to end, I need to face it head-on. If Primal thinks he can play with me, he’s got another thing coming. I’m not going to stand for it. He’s got no right to come into my home and mess with me. I don’t care how angry he is that I’ve been visiting the clubhouse, this is unacceptable.

I know that going back to the clubhouse definitely isn’t the right idea, but I don’t care. Someone needs to put him in his place.

Walking back to the living room, I grab my bag and my keys. I rip the door open, letting all the excess anger vent against the wooden door.

I don’t have to look far to find somewhere to put my anger.

Standing right here in my yard is the one man responsible for all the problems.

Primal.

Chapter

Twelve

Primal

What is wrong with me?

One minute I was popping open the seal on my second bottle of Jack, and somewhere in the middle of that bottle, I found myself going out for a run.

Now, I’m right outside Sibley’s house, the one place I said I would not come back to, no matter what.

I don’t know why I can’t get this woman out of my mind. Why can’t I just pretend she doesn’t exist?

Even I can no longer deny this constant pull toward Sibley. Pretending is useless. I can’t tell myself I’m coming here to see that she’s breathing. I’d only seen her a handful of hours ago, and she’d been ready to breathe fire.