✍︎ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 [dark psychopath x FBI romance] | 𝟏𝟖+

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟤𝟤

ᴄʟᴀʏ

Sibylle stares at me for so long that all I hear is the pulse throbbing in my ears.

'Don't forget, Clay, that disturbed and unstable people do feel that thing we feel as fear. They know that acting normally means nothing – a primitive human instinct is to mask that animalistic fear. And they know that if your behavior changes, you've likely cracked their alibi.'

When Sibylle shifts her hands and turns, the bed frame trembles. 

I exhale involuntarily. 

I don't know which of us is more afraid, and that only worries me more. I glance down at my scratched stomach, examine my bloody palms, and then look at the discovery in the corner of the room.

How do I explain the situation we currently find ourselves in rationally to her?

"I know last night was fun, but I didn't expect you to go to such extremes," Sibylle tries to joke, but I hear the crackling fear in her voice.

I click my tongue, shove the flashlight into my pocket, and cross my arms – an obvious sign that I'm not joking. She eyes my stance, snorts, and mutters curses as she struggles to free herself.

Soon, Sibylle slumps at the edge of the bed – too close to what's lying just a meter from the nightstand.

"Explain, Davis," she snaps, her eyes flashing with anger at me.

I swallow, look at the wall near the bed frame, and jerk my chin toward it. Sibyl furrows her brow but turns her head just enough to see what prompted my behavior.

I have no reason to act irrationally – unless she (or I) is in danger.

I see her lips tremble, her frown fade, and her eyes begin to dart wildly around the wall – a clear sign of confusion.