Call Me | American Psycho Reader Insert

Chapter 13

He dove behind the couch, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had been so close to freedom, so close to escaping the mess he had created. But she had come back too soon, and she had brought the enemy with her.

The cops' footsteps were heavy, their flashlights piercing the darkness of the apartment. They moved with the confidence of men who believed themselves to be the predators, not the prey. But Y/N knew better. He had been the one orchestrating this macabre dance all along, and now it was time to lead them into his final trap.

Evelyn's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of her tormentor. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a caged animal's, desperation and fear melding into a toxic cocktail. She knew he was there, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The cops spread out through the apartment, their flashlights illuminating the stark reality of the situation.

They checked the bathroom, the kitchen, even the closets, but Y/N remained elusive.

Evelyn's heart was in her throat as she scanned the room, her mind racing with fear. Where was he? What was he planning? She knew he wouldn't just give up, not when he was so close to losing everything.

The cops, their faces a mask of professionalism, assured her that they had searched the apartment thoroughly and that he not here. They had found no signs of forced entry, no evidence of any struggle at all. They were sympathetic but firm, their eyes telling her that they had seen this before. Victims with wild tales, grasping at straws in the hope of finding some semblance of sanity in the chaos.

"Miss, we need to leave," the burly cop said, his hand on her arm. "We'll have officers stationed outside, and you should call us if anything else happens."

Evelyn's eyes were wide with terror as she watched them go, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. "But he'll come back," she protested, her voice barely above a whisper.

The burly cop looked at her with a mix of pity and skepticism. "Miss, we've checked the place thoroughly. There's no one here. You're safe now."

But Evelyn knew better. She knew that Y/N was out there, watching, waiting. She could feel his eyes on her, a cold, calculating gaze that seemed to pierce through the walls. Her apartment, once a bastion of comfort, had been transformed into a prison of fear. She clutched the edge of the couch, her knuckles white with tension.

The minutes dragged by like hours, the silence broken only by the distant wail of sirens and the occasional scuffle of a footstep outside her door. She knew she couldn't stay here, not with the specter of his presence haunting her every move. She had to leave, had to find someplace safe where he couldn't reach her.

Evelyn stumbled to her feet, her legs wobbly with fear. She grabbed her phone, her hand shaking as she dialed 911 again. The line was busy, a taunting reminder of how alone she truly was. The cops had left her with nothing but a pat on the back and a promise she knew was as empty as the people around her.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for a weapon. She spotted a small sculpture on the bookshelf, the only thing left untouched in the chaos. It was heavy, solid, and pointed at one end. It would have to do.

In that split second of distraction, she heard the rustle of fabric and the couch shift. Y/N emerged from his hiding place, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. The blood had been wiped from his face, but the feral grin remained, a chilling reminder of the monster beneath the mask of sanity.

"Evelyn," he purred, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. "You know I had to do it," he continued, his voice a soothing balm over the raw wound of her fear. "It's your fault, really. If you hadn't told her, she wouldn't have had to go."

Evelyn's grip on the sculpture tightened, her knuckles turning white. She knew he was trying to manipulate her, to bend her reality until it fit the twisted narrative in his own head. But she couldn't let him win, not now, not after all she had been through.

"You're insane," she spat, her voice raw with emotion. "It's not my fault. It's all yours. You're the one who killed her!"

Y/N tilted his head, his smile never wavering. "Ah, but think about it, darling," he crooned, his voice smooth as silk. "If you had just kept our little secret, she would still be here. You brought this on yourself."

Evelyn's chest heaved with rage and grief, her eyes flashing with defiance. "I won't let you do this to me," she rasped, raising the sculpture. "I won't let you win."

Y/N's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of victory. "But you already have," he whispered, his voice a serrated knife slicing through the air. "You're all alone, and you know it. No one believes you. You're just a hysterical woman with a wild imagination."

Evelyn felt the weight of his words crushing her, a vice tightening around her chest. Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurring as she tried to hold onto the last shreds of her sanity. "You're wrong," she sobbed, her voice barely a whisper. "They'll find you. They'll make you pay."

Y/N's smile grew sadistic as he took another step closer. "But what if they don't, sweetheart?" he said, his voice a sickening mix of sweetness and malice. "What if they think you're just like all the others, a desperate woman with a vendetta?"

He reached out a hand, as if to comfort her, but she recoiled, the sculpture still poised as a weapon. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of weakness. "You know I'll always be there for you, Evelyn," he murmured, his voice dripping with faux empathy. "We can work through this, together."

Evelyn's chest tightened, her breathing shallow and erratic. His words were like a knife twisting in her gut, each syllable a reminder of his betrayal. Yet, there was something in his tone, something almost...comforting. She felt her resolve wavering, the fog of his manipulation threatening to consume her once again.