Walls Between Us

28 | mad woman

hey loves!
we're so close to finishing the story - only 8 chapters and an epilogue are left!
thank you so much for your support <3

ps: very dramatic chapter ahead
read it best under the covers!

✩

A M A Y A

I wake up feeling thirsty. Warmth floods my cheeks when I find myself sleeping over Carter's chest with one of his arms securely wrapped around my body. We are pressed chest to chest, like two lovers sharing heat in the night.

The room is as dark as it was before I fell asleep and there is no sign of Dawson.

I push myself to sit up and my first instinct is to touch Carter's forehead to check his temperature. He is still deep in his sleep like a sick person, but his temperature is no longer burning hot. Feeling glad of that, I climb down from the bed and arrange the blanket over his body. He groans, turns over to his stomach and curls his arms around the pillow I had been using. His body relaxes as he inhales the scent of it.

Finding no water in the jug on the bedside table, I take it with me outside the room. The hall is dark as I step out. All the ceiling lights are off except for the glow coming from the kitchen. Since I don't know how to turn them on and Dawson isn't here to help me, I quietly follow that one light to the kitchen.

Inside, I fill up Carter's jug to the brim before picking a glass from the counter. Carter's kitchen is so posh and modern, all black tiles and strange machines I could never afford to buy. There is even a dishwasher. I look around the expensive kitchen, taking in its rich beauty which looks so masculine. If it was my kitchen, there would be more softness to its touch.

I sip the water, letting the cool liquid quench my thirst. If it was my kitchen...

"I knew your name sounded familiar."

The voice behind me raises the hair on my neck. My lips on the rim of the glass freeze as a cold feeling of being watched rushes over me. I recognize that voice - it is female, sugary sweet with a hint of dark temper lingering in it.

With my stomach squeezing tight, I put the glass back on the counter as I turn around.

Molly Delacruz is standing behind me, looking at me with blazing eyes. She is in the same clothes she was in when I stumbled upon her and Carter. Her hair is a mess of curls and in her hand...

Fuck...she has a knife.

"How did you get in?" I blurt out as she takes a step towards me while I take a step back.

"I never left," she replies with a curve of her lips.

She was here. She was here all this time. That's why Dawson said she conveniently disappeared before he came in with Carter. The assaulter never left the penthouse.

"Molly, put the knife down," I say. "Put it down. You don't want to do this."

"You don't know what I want to do, Sommers!" she retorts, her hold around the knife vice-like. "I loved Carter for three years. Three fucking years! All the time I had been waiting for him to look at me the way I look at him. I wanted him with his heart and body. But he was obsessed with his high school sweetheart, the one he almost got married to. The one who is you."

The knife shines in her hand as she edges closer to me. I am slowly walking my way backward out of the kitchen. She sees that and increases her steps, the devilish glint in her eyes a warning for me. The water that I drank already dries up in my throat.