For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

43: Calling the Shots

When I had said my sleeping patterns were constantly being messed with I wasn’t playing around. Even after an amazing day with Preston and his daughter (she was even more insanely adorable than I had imagined) I found myself being woken up. Only this time it wasn’t someone knocking on the front door. Nor was it the dreaded telephone.

This time someone was inside the house.

I could hear them moving around. From the sound of their shoes brushing over the perfectly clean carpet to their fingertips on the walls I could hear it all. Whoever it was had been smart enough not to turn on a light to alert anyone from the street that anyone in the house was awake. Unfortunately they hadn’t counted on the fact I’d spent so many nights alone in that hose that I would have been able to hear so much as a rogue ant.

Okay, so that was a bit overdramatic. But whoever had made their way into my house as I slept really wasn’t bothering to be quiet about it. Which meant whoever it was wasn’t concerned about waking me. And that, that right there scared me.

I sat up slowly, reaching out and squeezing my eyes shut as I prayed that I’d remembered to turn off the sound on my cellphone. I had to chance it as I looked down at the small device in my hand. I couldn’t face whoever was in my house. Even with as strong as I was Logan proved daily just how easy it was to overpower me. So I knew what I had to do. I had to call for help.

But first I had to open my phone.

I gave a little swallow, my hand hesitating as I listened for the sounds of my unwelcomed house guest. From the sounds of them I could tell they were still in the livingroom. I had time, but how much I wasn’t sure. Would they try other doors before mine?

Once more I shut my eyes tightly as I flipped it open. It wasn’t to ward off the dull glow of the screen. I wasn’t worried about that. I was worried about the obnoxious sound my phone would make whenever it was opened or closed. One sound and the intruder might know I was awake and come before I could call for help.

Thankfully I had turned off the sound and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat thudding in my ears. I opened my eyes and looked down to the screen. In my fear and grogginess from being woken every click of my phone key sounded like a gong going off. I knew I was paranoid, but I couldn’t help it with the fear. Who would creep into my house at night? Worse yet, how had they gotten in? Did they break a window before I woke? If so that meant they had a weapon.

Relax god damn it!

I took in a small breath as I realized for the first time I had been holding my breath. All I had to do was call for help. I reached my contacts and started flipping down through the contacts. Preston, I’d called Preston. He’d know what to do. He’d protect me.

Aunt Margret, Coach, Cristy, Diana, Dylan, James, Jared, Logan, Maver- wait, Logan? I stared at the name on my screen. Since when had he been in my phone? I thought back, trying to figure out when it could have happened. I most certainly would have never trusted him enough to hand him my phone to enter his number. With a furrowed brow I forgot for a moment what exactly had made me open my phone in the first place. I know I didn’t ask him for his number, I wasn’t that insane. . .