[BOOK 6] 10 YEARS LATER...
Ten years ago, Aspen left Beacon Hills for good and never once looked back. The pack had mostly gone their separate ways over the years, living in all different parts of the country. But what brings them all back together...
❝ i always feel like somebody's watching me, and i have no privacy i always feel like somebody's watching me, who's playing tricks on me? ❞
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK _______________________________
ASPEN WAS WALKING HOME from work that night, having not seen Jordan since the morning in their apartment. She'd spent most of the morning in a meeting with the court's judge, and then headed down to the prison in the afternoon to debrief Stiles on the details of the trial that was upcoming in a couple days now.
It was late, the sky was a blanket of pitch black sky as she wrapped her coat around herself to preserve warmth, blending in with all the other chaotic New Yorkers trying to get home.
She saw she had a few missed calls from Jordan when she finally switched her phone on after a long day, but she figured she'd be heading home to him now anyway so whatever it was he could tell her when she got home.
But as she neared her street, she couldn't shake this weird feeling— a feeling she'd had a few nights ago, when she had been walking home like this in the dark.
The feeling that she was being watched.
She didn't know if it was just her paranoia though. Ever since Stiles told her about the fact this mystery killer had been threatening him with her life, she hadn't gotten any closer to figuring out what was really going on, or why.
Aspen finally approached her building, and hesitated before walking through the glass revolving doors. She paused where she stood, and turned her head over her shoulder as her eyes scanned around the busy street of people walking, cars and taxis driving.
For the life of her, she could not shake this feeling.
She let out a stressed sigh, running a hand through her long brunette locks as she walked through the revolving glass door and into the warmth of the apartment complex's lobby.
She gave the receptionist a polite wave and a forced smile, and then headed for the elevator. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, so she grabbed it and turned it on to see the notification.
JORDAN: Working late tonight, will be home soon though. We need to talk. Love you.
Aspen ran her hand through her hair once again in stress—not having a clue what it could be that Jordan needed to talk to her about. By the tone of the message, it sounded serious, which only added to her paranoia and worry.
She finally heard the ding of the elevator as the steel doors opened up and she stepped inside, pressing the button for her penthouse floor.
She nervously swivelled her engagement ring around her finger, a nervous habit she'd had since she was just a kid— never grew out of it.
