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Chapter 10
“Hello?” I call out as I walk toward the window.
Why am I saying hello to a potential serial killer standing outside my window? And why in the hell am I walking toward him?
My heart pounds as I take another step. The rational part of my brain tells me it was the wind. I didn’t hear anything more than a tree branch falling. My chance meeting with Tyler today is making me paranoid. But the irrational part, the part that’s been on high alert since I saw his face at the cafe, insists there’s someone out here. And when I came home today, my walkway had been shoveled again.
I take another hesitant step, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. I strain my ears, listening for any sound that might confirm my fears.
Silence.
Then, a soft scraping noise. My breath catches in my throat. That was definitely not the wind.
I should run. I should turn around, grab my phone, and lock myself in the bathroom. But my body isn’t listening to reason. I’m moving forward again, my hand outstretched toward the window to crack it open so I can hear better.
Still silence.
It’s nothing. I’m just acting crazy.
But not crazier than coming home almost immediately after my date . . . not date . . . maybe date . . . with Jack and obsessing over every little detail of our conversation. Not crazier than going on Dark Secrets tonight and getting my rocks off for all my subscribers.
Giving up and closing the window, I return to my computer, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. I settle into my chair, the soft glow of the screen illuminating my face in the dimly lit room. My fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to do mindless scrolling through Dark Secrets and seeing what fun pics and videos I can find.
But I can’t shake the unease. My eyes keep darting to the window, half-expecting to see a face pressed against the glass. I will myself to focus on my feed, but the images blur together, failing to capture my attention or arouse me like they usually do.
A soft ping from my phone makes me jump. I grab it, heart racing again, but it’s a notification from Dark Secrets. A new message. Probably from one of my regular subscribers, asking for a custom video or a private chat.
I open the app, my finger hovering over the message icon. But something catches my eye in the notifications tab. A new follower. I tap on it, curiosity overriding my lingering fear.
The username makes my blood run cold: WinterWatcher.
It can’t be. It’s a coincidence, right? But as I click on the profile, the bio reads: “I like to watch from afar. Always from afar.”
My hands shake as I scroll through WinterWatcher’s activity. He’s liked every single one of my posts from the past month already.
He’s studying me.
My mind races, trying to connect the dots. Tyler at the cafe. The shoveled walkway. The noise outside my window. And now this . . . WinterWatcher.
I close the app, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. It’s too much of a coincidence.
Tyler?
No, this is ridiculous.
I’m in my head. I know I can get like this once I get worked up. It’s not easy being a single woman living alone in New York.
Tyler is nice. Too nice.
That’s the problem. That’s why I’m not interested in him. I want a man who can dominate me. Someone who can make me cry out as he spanks me, who can tie me up and make me beg for release.
But now my thoughts return to Jack. Jack is nice. Is he too nice?
I shake my head, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. Jack is different. There’s an undercurrent of intensity beneath his polite exterior that I can’t quite put my finger on. But Tyler . . . Tyler’s niceness always feels forced, like he is trying too hard to be the perfect gentleman.
Taking a deep breath, I turn off my computer. I’m done for the night.
As I change into my pajamas, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. I double-check the locks on my windows and look outside one last time. My Christmas lights are off. Were they always off?
Sliding into bed, I pull the covers up to my chin, feeling like a child afraid of the monsters in the closet.NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.
Sleep eludes me. I toss and turn, my thoughts a jumbled mess of Tyler, Jack, and WinterWatcher. Every creak of the house makes me start, my heart leaping into my throat.
Around three a.m., I give up on sleep. I reach for my phone, telling myself I’ll just scroll through social media to distract myself. But my fingers betray me, opening the Dark Secrets app instead.
WinterWatcher has been active. He’s left comments on my older posts now, innocuous things like “Beautiful” and “Stunning.” But there’s one comment that makes my heart stop: “I wonder what other dark secrets you have.”
Something inside of me wants to respond. But I never speak to any subscribers. I never interact. I never comment. I’m not going to start now . . .
My thumb hovers over the reply button, twitching in suspense. I’ve never broken my rule of nonengagement before, but something about this situation feels different. Dangerous. Maybe if I respond, I can get more information, figure out if this really is Tyler or just some random guy.
It can’t be Tyler. Why am I thinking it’s Tyler? In fact, why do I think I know WinterWatcher at all? He could be anyone. He could even be a she. Why am I overreacting?
I turn off my phone and roll over. I toss and turn for another hour, my mind racing with possibilities. Every shadow seems to move, every noise amplified in the stillness of the night. Finally, as the first hints of dawn start to creep through my curtains, I drift into a fitful sleep.
My dreams are a confusing jumble of images: Tyler’s too-wide smile, Jack’s intense gaze, and a shadowy figure standing outside my window, watching. Always watching.
I wake with a start, my alarm blaring. For a moment, I’m disoriented, the events of last night feeling like a distant nightmare. But as I reach for my phone to silence the alarm, reality comes crashing back. It’s time to be Chloe. Cute, bubbly, admired by many Chloe Hallman, jewelry influencer.
BlackAsChlo needs to go back into the shadows where she belongs.