Point Blank

VIII

~ Kaitie ~

I find it difficult to sleep.

Ever since I dreamt of Archer showing up in his Ferrari to save my damsel-in-distress ass, my mind just shut itself down. 

Fear, maybe. Or paranoia. 

Anyways, I couldn't sleep. Or maybe, more like, I wouldn't sleep.

I know it's stupid, but I feel that something has changed in me. I can't pinpoint on what, exactly, but suddenly everything felt strange.

I spent last night driving back home. I have an early morning tomorrow, with Archer arriving. 

The thought of him in my house makes me shiver. He would be everywhere. He would be eating in my kitchen, using my plates, watching Netflix on my TV. He would be breathing down on my neck.

He would poison me. Or hang me up. Or gut me with a knife. Or choke me with my own stuffed teddy.

I push the sheets off me.

I can't. I just, can't.

I pick up the bottle stashed at the very back of the medicine cabinet. It's a petite yellow bottle, with slender white pills, unopened.

My hands hesitate. 

Without these, maybe I would dream of Archer, his slender fingers around my neck, watching me flail uncontrollably, as his fingers tighten around my windpipe, cutting off my air.

And what if that came true?

I open the bottle and dry swallow the sleeping pill in one, single gulp.

I sleep without dreams that night.

/*\*/*\

'My birthday was horrible.' 

My phone is pressed to my ear, and it's Leah on the other end.

'Girl. How bad could it have been? At least you didn't sleep with the stripper at your bachelorette.'

I gasp. 'Did Ria manage to crash this ship too?'

Leah laughs. 'Almost. Fortunately, we managed to intervene. I swear, that girl has no control.'

'But your case is different. Archer Miles is a God, and he's going to share an apartment with you. Aren't you a lucky bitch!'

I roll my eyes. 'Lucky my ass. Archer Miles is an asshole, period. There is no getting over that.'

'My, my. He must be one hell of a character, if he has Miss Goody Two Shoes sprouting insults every darn second.'

I snort apple juice through my nose. 'Leah, you have abso-bloody-lutely no idea.'

'Speaking of which, wasn't he supposed to swing by any second now?'

'Don't know, don't care.' I pick up my handbag, stepping out of my apartment. 'Good riddance if he decides not to show up.' I cradle the phone in the crook of my neck, as I multitask locking the door. 'I mean, the man has got to have some shame.'

'Seems like I don't have any.'

I almost drop the phone in surprise. When I turn around, Archer Miles is standing right behind me, a couple of suitcases by his feet. 

'An effing penthouse, why am I not surprised?' Archer glances at the door apprehensively, the vestiges of a smirk right on his lips. 'Does your father pay for this one, sweetheart?'

'I'll call you later, Leah.' I tilt my chin up, my eyes level with his dark, evil orbs.

'I own this property, Archer. And if you are to stay here, there are going to be some ground rules.'

Archer crosses his arms, regarding me pensively. 'Go ahead.'

'First off, no snooping through any of my stuff. My room is off bounds, it's the at the far right end. You stay at the room in the left end. You can use the kitchen every evening, but be sure to be done by eight. No parties, no inviting your friends over. No trashing my place. And, especially no booze and drugs. And no... escorts.'

He chuckles. 'I think you are pulling the noose a bit too tight, darling. A man got his needs.'

I refuse to cower even though he fixes his dark gaze on me. 'Satisfy them elsewhere. Not in my apartment.'

'Well. I don't think this is a doorstep conversation, and you have to get to work. So what do you say we discuss this over pizza in the evening?'

I sigh, handing him the keys to my much loved apartment, which was no longer my own. 

'Later, roomie.'

God, kill me already.

/*\*/*\