Page 19 of Always Watching
Mr. Barlowe starts, looking from me up to North. North is a few inches taller than him and in much better shape. I watch Mr. Barlowe’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows roughly.
“Who the hell are you?” Mr. Barlowe asks, trying to put some bass in his voice, though I can tell he’s frightened of North.
“I’m—”
“He’s my boyfriend,” I say quickly, stepping back into North. “I got attacked and he came from states away to take care of me. So I won’t be needinganyof your help while he’s here.”
A sense of satisfaction washes over me when I see how Mr. Barlowe’s face drops when I call North my boyfriend. God, he’s so creepy. Old enough to be my dad—hell, old enough to be North’s dad—and trying to hit on me. Some men like that age gap, but I do not.
“Come on, baby,” North says, and a flush blooms over my body at the endearment, even though he doesn’t mean it. “Let’s get you into bed. If you’ll excuse us.”If you’ll excuse ussounded more likeget the fuck out of our way. Mr. Barlowe moves quickly, stuttering something about a work order and rushing to his apartment.
“Sorry about that,” I tell North, once we’re in my apartment with the door shut and locked. “He’s so fucking weird. Always hitting on me. I figured that saying you’re my boyfriend would keep him at bay.”
“I don’t mind,” North tells me, putting groceries away. “I liked it, if I’m honest. First time I’ve heard someone say it.”
In a rush, I say, “I’ve never called anyone my boyfriend before.”
A disbelieving look crosses his face. “Really? I would have figured you’ve had plenty of boyfriends.”
I huff. “Is it because I’m a camboy? We’re not whores like people seem to think we are.”
“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “No. You’re handsome, Ranen. I’m assuming plenty of people have asked you out.” He shakes his head like my assumption offended him. “There’s nothing wrong with sex work.”
I sigh, though heat creeps up my cheeks. “I know. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just… I’m up in my head.” I step into the kitchen and help him unpack the groceries.
“About what?”
“Huh?” I ask, moving the coffee from the cabinet he put it into to the pantry where I usually keep it.
“What are you in your head about?”
“Working again.” I close the pantry door and lean against it. “I want to get back at it, but I’m…” I swallow and touch my face, the throbbing ache making me hiss. “I’m afraid. What if someone tries to hurt me again? What if they threaten me online and run me off the internet?”
“That won’t happen,” North says with so much conviction, I almost believe him.
“How can you be sure?” He’s quiet, but I don’t wait for an answer. “I’ll figure something out. Or I’ll stop working. I don’t want to, but I don’t want to be hurt again because of it.”
North walks over to me, skating his fingers lightly across my jaw before dropping his hands. The gentle caress is so warm, I have to lock my knees so they don’t go weak from this small touch. Why does he make me feel…thingswhen he touches me?
“No one will hurt you again, Ranen. I swear, while I’m here, you’re safe.”
It’s funny, I’ve only known North for a few days, but I trust him.
With my life.
Chapter 8
North
Was there a righttime to confess to the man you’d forcibly moved in with that you were a serial killer? It wasn’t an urge I had because of some deep-seated need to come clean about my sins. I didn’t even feel bad about withholding the information.
But if I told him I’d killed enough people that I could use the bodies to barricade his front door, maybe Ranen wouldn’t feel so anxious about streaming again.
That’s the part that bothers me. I’veseenhim on camera enough to know he loves what he does. Fuck, half the reason I became so… attached… to watching him was because of the light in his eyes when he performed, and the power he seemed to control over everyone and everything because heknewhis body. He was bold and sensual—absolutely mesmerizing.
If I hadn’t wanted to kill the man who hurt him before, the fact that he’d threatened that part of Ranen’s confidence was enough to make me want to take him apart. Slowly.
Other than checking the text Wylder sent me to tell me he was taking his time with our littleproject, I’ve only half answeredthe texts I’ve been getting. I know my dad is probably concerned about me, about what I’m doing… but I don’t have it in me to try to explain it to him.
