Eyes in the Dark
Chapter 8
Kyle went still inside me, the rhythm of his body stopping so suddenly that my breath caught for an entirely different reason. For a moment we just stared at each other, sweat cooling on my skin, our breaths harsh in the quiet.
I swallowed. “Kyle…” My voice cracked, caught between warning and disbelief.
He pulled out of me abruptly, his hands firm at my waist as he set me down from the counter like I was glass that might break. My legs trembled when my feet hit the floor, weak from both the intensity of what we’d just done and the sharp edge of fear that cut through it. He tugged his trousers back into place in one rough motion, grabbing the nearest towel to throw at me. “Cover yourself. Stay here.”
I clutched the towel against my chest, heart slamming. His tone was calm, but it carried a weight that made my stomach twist.
The apartment was too quiet, every sound amplified. The drip of the faucet. My pulse hammering in my ears. The faint creak of the wooden floor beneath Kyle’s steps as he moved toward the hall.
I should have stayed in the kitchen like he said. I should have. But the silence clawed at me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him walking into something unseen while I hid. So I followed, barefoot, the cool tiles sticking to my damp skin.
The front door was ajar. Kyle stood in front of it, shoulders tense, one hand braced against the frame. The night air slid inside, damp with drizzle, carrying the faint scent of wet pavement. In his other hand, he held a sheet of paper. His eyes scanned the hall beyond, sharp and searching, but whatever he had expected to find wasn’t there.
When he turned, his face was set in a mask that only made my fear rise higher. He held the paper out to me. “Look.”
I took it with hesitant fingers. The paper was thin, cheap, the edges crinkled as if it had been torn quickly from a pad. My eyes caught on the jagged handwriting.
”Nice show. Getting your ass fucked in the kitchen. How sweet. I’m watching you.”
The words punched the breath out of me. My fingers shook so hard the note fluttered. My cheeks burned as if whoever wrote it was still standing in the room, laughing, pointing, enjoying the sight of me unraveling.
For a second I couldn’t speak. The shame was hot and raw, curling in my stomach, mixing with anger. Someone had been here. Someone had seen. Not just seen, but close enough to hear every moan, every whispered plea, every thrust against the counter.
I lifted my gaze to the door, to the dark hallway beyond, empty and still. But the emptiness was worse. It left me imagining shapes in the shadows, someone pressed against the wall only seconds ago, grinning as they scribbled these words.
“Is this a joke?” My voice came out sharp, higher than I intended. I hated how brittle it sounded.
Kyle’s jaw tightened. He glanced down the hall again before pulling the door shut with force, the slam echoing in the apartment. He locked it once, then again, the sound of the bolt sliding heavy in the silence.
He reached for the note, folding it with deliberate care. “Not a joke.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes betrayed him.
My throat went dry. “Kyle… they knew. They knew exactly what we were doing.”
The words tasted filthy. My humiliation deepened with every second, images flashing through my mind of unseen eyes tracking every move, every sound. A faceless presence crouched somewhere in the dark, close enough to write this down while I lost myself in Kyle’s touch.
I wrapped the towel tighter around me. “What if they’ve been watching for longer?” The thought slipped out before I could stop it.
Kyle froze at that, his expression hardening even more. He unfolded the paper again, his eyes scanning the words as if they might give him something more, some clue. Then he folded it back with care. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll handle it.”
But the way his hand clenched around the paper told me the opposite.
I shook my head. “Don’t tell me not to worry. Someone was in your building. Someone walked up to your door, left this, and vanished like smoke. How do you just… handle that?”
His gaze softened briefly, then hardened again. He reached for me, cupping the side of my face with his warm, damp hand. “Because I have to. You’re not going to carry this fear, Tess. I’ll take care of it.”
The tenderness in his words did nothing to calm the unease crawling over my skin. I wanted to believe him, to lean into that steadiness. But my mind was already spiraling.
What if they knew where I lived? What if they’d followed me from Cole’s office earlier? What if they’d been watching longer than just tonight?
The thought made my stomach churn. I pulled away, pacing the living room in bare feet, my towel slipping slightly as I clutched it tighter. Every corner of the apartment felt too open, too vulnerable.
Kyle watched me, silent, his fingers drumming lightly against the folded note. Finally he said, “Who would want to rattle you like this?”
I stopped. The first name that crashed into my mind was Cole. The way he’d looked at me earlier, the way his presence lingered like smoke I couldn’t clear. But I couldn’t make myself say it out loud. Not yet. Saying his name here, in Kyle’s apartment, would make it real in a way I wasn’t ready for.
Instead, I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
Kyle didn’t push. He tucked the note into the drawer by the door as though storing evidence. Then he turned the deadbolt one more time, pressing against the door to test it. His movements were careful, methodical, like ritual.
I stood in the middle of the living room, my body still aching with the remnants of pleasure, now twisted into unease. It was obscene, almost cruel, to feel those things tangled together. One minute I had been gasping against Kyle’s shoulder, the next I was being mocked in ink. The humiliation cut deeper than I could admit.
Kyle came back to me, taking my hand. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, grounding, steady. “Stay here tonight,” he said. “Don’t go back to your place. Whoever wrote that note won’t touch you here.”
I wanted to believe him. His voice was strong, reassuring, the same voice that had pulled me back from panic so many times before. But the words from the note echoed louder. I’m watching you.
Even as Kyle led me back toward the bedroom, even as he pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my forehead, I couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were still on me. Somewhere, hidden in the night, someone had already seen too much.
And I couldn’t stop wondering.
How much more did they plan to see?