Call Me | American Psycho Reader Insert

Chapter 9

Y/N's breathing grew deep and even, his grip on Evelyn's waist loosening as he descended into a troubled sleep. In his dreams, he was back in the alley, the letter opener in his hand, but this time it was Evelyn standing in front of him, her eyes wide with fear and betrayal. He raised the weapon, ready to strike, but his hand was stayed by an invisible force, his mind screaming in protest.

Evelyn lays awake, her body tense, her thoughts racing. She knew she couldn't stay with him, couldn't be a part of his twisted reality any longer. But how could she leave? He was dangerous and unpredictable. The evidence was clear: the blood on his shirt, the terror in Christy's voice, the way he had spoken about the murder with a chilling detachment.

Her mind reeled with the weight of his confession, the horror of his actions. But as she listened to his steady breaths, a plan began to form. She had to get away, to tell someone what he had done. But who could she trust? Who would believe her?

Evelyn's thoughts turned to her friend Elizabeth, who had always had a suspicion about Y/N's true nature. She would understand, she had to. Carefully, she extricated herself from his embrace, her body tense and alert to any sudden movement. She slipped from the bed, her bare feet silent on the cool, hardwood floor.

Moving through the apartment, she gathered her things, her mind racing with the logistics of her escape. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of fabric, sent a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. She knew that one wrong move could mean her life, but she couldn't stay here. Not anymore.

Her hand trembled as she picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over Elizabeth's number. She had to tell her what she had seen, what she had heard. But what if he found out? What if he came after her? The thought was paralyzing, but she pushed it aside. She had to take the risk.

With a deep breath, Evelyn typed out a message, her eyes darting to the bedroom door every few seconds. "I know what he did. I need your help." She hit send and slipped the phone into her pocket, her heart pounding like a drum. She moved to the closet, her eyes scanning the rows of designer clothes for something simple, something that wouldn't draw attention.

Her trembling hands found a black hoodie and a pair of jeans, clothes that Y/N never wore. She slipped them on, the fabric feeling rough against her skin. She pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, her movements quick and precise, fueled by fear. In the bathroom, she scrubbed her face clean of makeup, erasing the traces of the evening's events.

Looking in the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Her eyes were wide with terror, her skin pale and drawn. But there was something else there, something new. Determination. A fierce resolve to survive.

Evelyn moved through the apartment with the stealth of a cat burglar, her eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of danger. She knew that one wrong move could be her last, but she couldn't let fear control her anymore. She had to get out.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob, her heart racing like a wild animal in her chest. She took one last deep breath, whispering a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening. Then, with a quick twist, she pulled the door open and slipped out into the hallway.

The corridor was eerily quiet, the only sound the muffled thump of music coming from a distant apartment. The red light from the EXIT sign cast an ominous glow on the floor, a crimson path that seemed to lead her to freedom. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes darting back and forth, expecting to see Y/N emerge from the shadows at any moment.

Her hand clutched the railing as she descended the stairs, each step echoing in the empty stairwell like a countdown to her escape. The air was thick with the scent of industrial cleaning supplies and fear, a potent mix that made her stomach churn. But she kept moving, driven by the need to get away, to tell someone about the monster that slept behind her.

The lobby was a blur of marble and chrome, the night doorman nodding sleepily as she passed. She forced a smile, the act of normalcy feeling like a foreign dance. Outside, the city waited for her, a cacophony of honking taxis and distant sirens, a stark contrast to the sterile silence of the apartment above. The cool air hit her like a slap in the face, a sudden jolt back to reality.

Her heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried down the street, her heart racing with every step. The neon lights of the city cast an eerie glow, the shadows playing tricks on her eyes. Every alley she passed looked like the one where she had seen the darkest part of Y/N's soul laid bare. She knew she had to get as far away as possible, to find a safe place where she could breathe without fear.

Evelyn's thoughts were a tangled web of confusion and terror as she flagged down a taxi, her hand shaking as she gave the driver Elizabeth's address. The car's interior was a sanctuary of artificial warmth, the leather seats enveloping her in a hug she didn't know she needed. She leaned back, her eyes closed, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

The drive through the city was a blur of lights and sounds, the anonymity of the streets a stark contrast to the claustrophobic confines of the apartment she had just escaped. Her mind reeled with the reality of her situation, the weight of Y/N's confession pressing down on her like a lead blanket. She had to be smart, had to play it cool until she could get the help she needed.

Evelyn's hand trembled as she pulled out her phone, scrolling through the contacts until she found the number she was looking for. Her thumb hovered over the call button, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. What would she say? How could she explain the monster she had been living with? The phone felt heavy in her hand, a symbol of the burden she now carried.

Before she could call the number, Y/N's name flashed on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat, the sound of his voice a cold, stark reminder of the danger she was in. "Where are you?" he asked, his tone low and even, a chilling contrast to the chaos of her thoughts.