Infatuated (Unedited)

Chapter 5

Caged. That's how I felt locked away in my apartment avoiding the door and all windows. I'm a prisoner inside my own home and now inside my head. My sleep--if that's what it could be called--was interrupted each time I heard a noise. The slightest sounds especially the sound of the door opening and closing across the hall had me springing from the bed wide-eyed scanning the room with my bedside lamp in hand. For the first time since I got away from Dalton I slept with all my lights on afraid of what may be awaiting me in the shadows. It wasn't the supposed monster under my bed or in my closet but a man that maintains a strange hold over me that I fear the most.

Each time I blink is like a flash reminder of the way Nicolas smirked when he snapped that man's neck and the terrifying sound I'll never forget. Sitting in the center of the bed with my knees to my chest and my back against the headboard, I've debated on what I should do. Not only did I witness a murder but I'm being stalked. He called me his. Labeled me like a piece of property and at first I thought nothing of but now I can't stop the questions. What if I'm next? What if by not abiding by his rules he decides I need to die for it?

Fear consumes me and is ultimately the fuel pulling me from the bed to my closet. I dressed carelessly slipping on a pair of good running shoes to aide me in the long journey to the police station. I've been here long enough to know that there are only two instances in which the police will come here: to arrest somebody or to collect a body. With my purse in hand I made my way to my front door and cautiously gazed through the peephole. Seeing no one but the kids that always seem to be out there playing I unlocked the door. As soon as my hand touched the knob a surge of memories coursed through me bringing with it the exactly feeling of the hard body that pressed against me and seductively whispered against my skin. I can still feel it--his arm around me while he kissed my cheek. The weird thing about it is that despite the fear paralyzing me, pleasure was present as well.

Still hearing his deep voice with that thick Spanish accent creates goosebumps on my arms beneath the thick fabric of my hoodie. How is that possible? I watched this man take a life and with a simple kiss he managed to erase my mind in that moment. Something inside of me, a twinge of something I can't pinpoint is holding me there, telling me to banish my plan of involving the police. He did it for me; killed to protect me. Shouldn't I be grateful? Pulling myself from that thought I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of those feelings. Twisting the knob I yanked the door open slowly, peering up and down the hall before slipping out and locking it behind me. I never thought I'd see the day that I was thankful for the kids playing near the elevators. If Nicolas were to show up and try something from this point, there would be at least one witness. I took the stairs choosing not to be closed in a place with only one escape route and glanced over my shoulder every five steps. To the guys hanging on the corners and cars riding by I probably look like some come of paranoid psycho but I could careless. At least this way Nicolas has no chance to sneak up on me.

An hour and two buses later I pushed through the thick glass doors catching the eye of the officer behind the counter, a thick man with dark shifty eyes and very sharp features. His eyes locked on me instantly and even followed me as I approached the counter. "What can I do for you?" His voice gave me the same exact chills you get when walking by a cemetery in the dead of night.

I swallowed hard suddenly feeling like this wasn't such a good idea. I leaned into the counter speaking lowly--why I don't know. "I'm here to report a murder."

The officer followed my action of leaning forward but pulled back with narrowed eyes the second I finished speaking. "When was the crime committed? Who was murdered?"

Shit! I hadn't anticipated questions such as these and wish more now that I'd listened to my gut feeling telling not to come here. "I don't know the guy that died but I know who did it. His name is Nicolas..." I paused for a moment trying to remember what Lou said he was addressed as. The officer was looking at me impatiently nodding his head and motioning with his hand for me to continue, arousing annoyance that I had to bite back the urge to snap at. "De--Del--DeLeon! Nicolas DeLeon." I damn near shouted, proud of my small accomplishment however, my excitement was not shared.