Sleeping With A Serial Killer

Chapter 14: Phone Call

My sneakers squeaked against the wooden flooring of the basketball court, the slightest noise echoed across the deserted gymnasium as I settled myself in the front row of the bleacher.

I seized my towel inside my drawstring ang wiped the dampness of my face. I looked at my reflection on my foundation mirror. My eyes were puffy and pinkish as well as my nose and cheeks, all because of an hour of nonstop crying. I blew my nose before putting thin layer of powder on my pale-tired looking face.

I decided to skip all my classes today since I don't want to see Luke. He's such an asshole for eating everything that Dylan said.

How could he easily assume that I would suffer in depression? He knows how strong I am, he knows how I don't give a damn at some things especially if I'm not involve in it.

Yes I played a huge role at some killings that happened previously but he never know about that. And besides, why would he believe that Dylan got me in a vacation when I never mentioned anything about him from the past years.

Why does it seems so easy for Dylan to make everyone believe in his lies?

What if he's been lying all this time but I can't distinguish the truth between lies because he's such a good manipulator? He's a great pretender. An illusionist. A magician with his dirty tricks.

My thoughts was interrupted by the thudding footsteps behind the door. My heart followed the beat of every step as it comes closer.

I looked around before deciding to hide behind the bleacher, concealing myself with the empty trash bins aligned beside me.

I peeked at the gap between the bleachers seat. I threw my hands over my mouth to keep my lips from trembling, I took a very slow inhale as the tall figure entered inside.

I'm sure it's Dylan the moment I caught his shiny leather black shoes.

I let out a shaky but silent exhale.

My gaze traveled up to his straight black trouser then to his upper part. He unbottoned his black suit, revealing the white button-up inside. He also loosened his necktie until finally my eyes bored on his ever gorgeous face; perfect curve of jaws, supple lips and ever intimidating eyes.

I took another set of sharp breaths until I noticed what's wrong with his expression.

Dylan looks anxious. Terribly anxious.

He walked back and forth, his left hand on his waist while the other one repeatedly brushing through his messy brown locks.

Looks like he's waiting for something or someone.

I moved a little bit deeper, making sure he won't see me.

My heart almost sank at the pit of my stomach when Dylan's ring tone broke the eerie silence. I gazed up to survey his expression and it was priceless.

I've never seen him so.... Scared.

Yes. I can compare him with a teenager that hasn't been home for the night and afraid for his mum's call. Dylan just stared on the mobile phone in his hand as it rings repeatedly.

After a minute, it stopped and Dylan took a sigh of relief. He's just about to put the phone back to his pocket when it rang again.

This time, I focused my gaze on his face. He's too distracted from the caller; whoever it was, to notice me from under this bleacher about a meter away where he was.

My curiosity got to its peak, I really want to know who's calling him that even his own ring tone was freaking the crap out of him.

I resist the urge to find a hiding spot that's closer to him when he finally swipe a finger on the screen of his phone.