And I’ve never felt so uneasy.
Except for when I encountered the strange man earlier.
“Is there someone else living here?” I ask suddenly, and Eleanor looks up from her fruit.
“Pardon me?” she raises her eyebrow.
“Earlier,” I explain. “I was restless so I went for a walk outside. There was a guy out there in a hoodie. He seemed out of place.”
Dare and Eleanor exchange a glance.
“What did he look like?” Dare asks me quietly, his eyes frozen on mine.
I shrug. “I couldn’t see his face, he had his hood up. He was young, though. Sort of skinny.”
Silence.
Finally, Dare clears his throat. “There’s no one else here, Calla. Aside from Jones and Sabine, we have a groomsman for the stable, but he’s an elderly man. There is a gardening team, but they come here early in the morning before anyone is out of bed.”
“Then who was it?” I ask, confused, and a bit afraid.
Dare stares at me. “Maybe you just thought you saw someone.”
I flush, because of my recent history, it’s no wonder they don’t believe me. The heat spreads to my chest, and I fight the urge to fan myself.
“I… maybe,” I finally agree.
I’m jet-lagged. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. It’s quite possible that I hadn’t seen him at all. Because I’d also thought my room was growling.
“I hate this place,” I mutter to myself when we’re finally released. Dare overhears me and increases his long strides so he catches up to me.
“It’s not that bad,” he tells me. “It’s what you make of it, as long as you never let your guard down.”
I glance at him, and God, I miss him.
We pass in front of a window and the moonlight bathes his face, and I want to touch his lips with my fingers.
He walks me to my room.
“Tell me more about the guy you saw outside,” he says softly, and his fingers find mine. They wrap around my hand, warm and familiar, and I want to close my eyes.
“No,” I finally answer. “You’re right. My eyes were probably playing tricks on me. I was really tired.”
Dare’s gaze is doubtful. Concerned.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asks, and his tone is hopeful.
Everything in me screams to say yes, to let him hold me until I sleep, to soak up his familiarity and warmth, but I shake my head because my heart is still afraid.
And there must be a reason why.
“That’s ok. You don’t need to babysit me. I’m ok, Dare. I promise.”
It’s a lie.
I’m not.
But he can’t make it better.