°BACKSTABBERS°

chapter 10

He walked in, his presence suffocating the room like thick smoke. He moved without haste, his steps deliberate, before sinking into his chair. His gaze fixed straight ahead, sharp and predatory.

I held my breath, my chest burning as I tried to melt into the shadows, willing myself to be invisible. Maybe he wouldn’t notice me. Maybe he’d—

A low, dark chuckle pierced the silence.

“Stop hiding like an ostrich,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, yet the threat was unmistakable.

My stomach dropped. No, no, no. My pulse thundered in my ears, my thoughts spiraling into chaos. He knew. He knew. This was it. I was done for.

I could feel my legs trembling, but I forced my brain to run faster, searching for a way out. Anything. My hands pressed against the wall behind me, as if I could slip through it, but the sound of his chair scraping against the floor froze me in place.

He was standing now. Walking toward me.

I held my breath again, my lungs screaming for air, as the curtain was yanked back with a swift motion.

His eyes met mine, dark and unreadable, but his lips curled into a smirk that made my blood run cold. “Scared?” he asked, his tone deceptively light.

“I… I…” My voice betrayed me, trembling as much as the rest of me.

“What were you doing here?” he asked again, tilting his head. His tone was calm—too calm.

“I was just…” I stammered, the words catching in my throat. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t know this was your room. I was just wandering, and—”

“Wandering?” he interrupted, his smirk fading. His expression hardened, his gaze pinning me in place. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

I gulped, my hands fumbling toward my pocket. My fingers brushed the cool metal of the object I’d stashed there.

“Now,” he continued, his voice low and deliberate, “I have no choice but to…”

My breath hitched. My heart pounded so violently it felt like it would break free from my chest. I tightened my grip on the object in my pocket, bracing for the inevitable.

“...let you go,” he said suddenly, taking a step back.

I blinked, my brain scrambling to process his words. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his back now turned. “Get out.”

My instincts screamed at me to run, but my legs felt like lead. For a moment, I hesitated, waiting for him to spin around and strike.

But he didn’t.

I stumbled past him, my heart still racing as I fled the room. The air outside felt thin, my mind still reeling from how close I’d come to death. Or worse. I didn’t dare look back.
As I stepped out into the hallway, I exhaled deeply, my chest still tight with the weight of what had just happened. My eyes darted to the door I had escaped from, unease prickling the back of my neck. The clock on the wall read 3:27 p.m. I couldn’t linger. I needed to move.

I hurried back to the guest room—the room I was temporarily calling mine. Shutting the door behind me, I turned the lock, my hands trembling slightly. I scanned the space quickly, looking for anything suspicious, anything out of place.

Without wasting time, I rushed into the washroom, gripping the edges of the sink as I stared into the mirror. My reflection looked worse than I’d thought—pale, sweat slicking my forehead, and my eyes wide with fear. I swallowed hard, shaking off the image, and reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone.