Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Twenty-Four: Is There Something Attractive About Me...

The Belmont-Grey family hasn't been here a day and I'm already getting stressed. I'm used to them, but that was always at their house, following their rules. While they're at mine, it's hard to try and make grown ups follow rules, though it's not like we had any because it's just me occupying the large mansion.

I close my eyes, trying to rest and calm down. It's evening now, and I'm exhausted. It's nice to feel the comfort of my own bed, even though I was scared of getting raped on it. For some reason, I'm not as paranoid as I was expecting after this all ended. I was expecting worry, scariness, and fear. I don't feel any of those, though. I just feel stressed and tired, and I'm just blaming it on the extra bodies flooding my house.

My house was the one place where I could scream at my very loudest and not be told to shut up. I could play with chemicals all day, not worrying about accidentally blowing someone up besides myself. I could sing as loud as I wanted to while I danced around the house naked with a brush as a microphone. Charlie was only home maybe once a week, and those were Friday's. But I'd have the house to myself again on the Monday.

As I'm too busy forcing myself to drift further into sleep, I don't pay attention to the fact that my door opened and that there's another body in the room. The bed dips as they crawl up behind me. "Tired?"

"No." I mumble into my pillow. "I wish I was."

Tyler pushes up further against my back, pulls the glob of hair that found its way into my face, and kisses my cheek. "Want me to order some Chinese?"

I shake my head. "I'm feeling Angelina's tonight."

"You're craving Mexican food?" He says, mirth in his voice.

"Got a problem, Isaiah?"

He chuckles. "No, no problems. I'll go ring her up." Instead of getting up, he purposely throws himself over me, reaching across for my phone that sits on the nightstand.

I punch his stomach on his way back to the other side of the bed, and he lets out a hiss. "Was that really necessary? There's a house phone right beside you."

"I like your phone better." He simply shrugs as I turn around and lay on my back. He gives me a smirk, explaining why. He wakes up my phone and points to the lock screen, and puts it beside his face. "See? Look at that sexy beast right there," he grins.

"Tyler, you have such a huge ego, I worry about your health." I smile while he mimics the expression.

He gives me a confused look. "No, not the sexier beast, the one beside them."

"So you're now sexier than I am?" I say, eyebrows raised.

"Honey, I always was," he winks. He then puts on a smile; a real one. "No, I'm just kidding. You always had the looks, I had the brains. Girls love smarter dudes more than hotter ones."

"You put liquid nitrogen in some Coke and hovered over it," I point out, starting to laugh at the memory of Tyler having a large 2L bottle of Coca Cola sky rocket right into his stomach. "I don't think you have brains."

"Well you're no better, sunshine!" Tyler retaliates.

"Okay, Nimrod," I shake my head lightly, chuckling softly to avoid pain. "Just shut up and call Angelina's."

He gives me a serious look, but I still see the playfulness in his orbs. "You shouldn't be laughing, sunshine. You could make your ribs worse. Stop laughing and try to not cough until I'm off the line."

I scowl at him. "Don't tell me how to live my life."

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. He has Angelina's on the line in seconds and walks into the attaching room beside mine, however, his conversation is in earshot. "Yes. . . oh, shit. . . um, hi Matthew. . . ugh, delivery. . . no, it's Tyler. . . yes, that Tyler. . . no she isn't a psycho she's just very opinionated. . . it's not my fault she told you that. . . I don't know if she's kinky . . . Matthew. . .