If she wasn't asleep, she was pretending.
I tested the knob. She hadn't locked it. That actually surprised me. Marina knew who I was and what I was. Did she feel so confident that the idea of me sneaking into her room and killing her in her sleep hadn't crossed her mind?
Counting the seconds, I pushed the door until I could see inside.
Unlike her apartment, mine was quite warm. She wasn't used to that, and the swell of her hips was visible on top of her blankets. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, the window blinds closed, but leaking in remnants of the city.
For a full three minutes, I studied her. She's breathing in a pattern. I can hear her whistle through a slightly open mouth. I was sure Marina was actually asleep.
Tip-toeing further inside, I hovered over her body. Hair spilled around her shoulders, her soft skin visible in her tank-top. The shirt had ridden up to reveal the dip of her spine.
She was curled tight around a pillow, knees to her chest and hands tucked under her chin.
The way her chest swayed when she inhaled was hypnotizing. I could have stared for hours, but I had something pressing to take care of.
Looking down, I saw her purse. Jacob had checked her ID, and I had looked for weapons, but I'd also spotted something else that I wanted a better look at.
Crouching, I kept one eye on her sleeping face while peeling open the small bag. Dipping a hand in, I closed on her phone.
Even in the poor lighting, I could tell it was a cheap device. Turning it, I classified it as what it was: a pay by the minute burner phone.
Well, it was a burner phone to me. They went for twenty bucks and you didn't need a monthly plan, great for leaving no trace behind. You could just chuck them in the trash when you were done doing business on them.
I figured Marina chose it because of the cheap price. I'd seen her apartment, I knew poverty when it smacked me in the face; it and I were old friends.
Flipping the phone open, I began to scroll. She didn't even password protect it? For every clever thing Marina did, she shocked me with her naivety.
Pushing through her contact list, I realized why she hadn't bothered. She doesn't have a single saved number in here.
Could she really have no friends?
Furiously, I went through her list of sent and received calls. There were a few to generic numbers, but I scribbled them down anyway. Her incoming calls were essentially blank.
Well, I guess that solves one issue. The knowledge that Marina didn't have any close friends or family should have comforted me.
On one level, the cautious side, it did.
The rest of me found it depressing.
Looking at her, sleeping in her tight ball of limbs, I tried to understand. What would keep a girl like her from getting close to anybody?
Putting the phone back into her purse, I jumped at the sudden noise beside me. It was a shivering, frail sob that stabbed into my guts.
For an instant, I thought I'd look up and find Marina staring at me. Had she woken up, caught me in the act?
Twisting, I could see her face from where I crouched. Fuck, I could have touched her. Marina's mouth was a grimace, eyes scrunched fiercely shut. Along her arms, goosebumps prickled. The whimper of fear and sadness escaping her was tragic.
She said no words. She didn't need to. I understood her tremors and knew she was having a nightmare. Whatever it was about, it had her whole body twitching.
Standing, I bent closer to her flushed cheeks. She was struggling, I sensed her tears about to start right before the first one flowed. It left a wet streak down her caramel skin.
Then they just kept coming.
Looking around, I told myself to leave. To get out of there and forget about the strange girl who had flipped my life around and was now sobbing in my spare bed.
I should have fled.
So why did I put my hand on her shoulder?
“Marina,” I whispered. Gently I shook her, my fingertips attacked by every tiny quiver that rocked her. “Marina, wake up.”
She was sniffling, great ugly tears that should have been private. Not seen by someone like me. Reaching down, I wiped some of them away.
Her thick lashes fluttered, brown eyes snapping to their widest setting. Marina gawked up at me, and the terror there made me wonder if she was seeing me or something else.
Both of us jerked apart, my hands going to my sides. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, rubbing at her face to hide the evidence of her vulnerability.
“You were having a nightmare,” I said carefully. “I heard you from my room and came to check on you.” Lying was easy when you'd done it your whole life.
Pulling the blanket around herself, like me seeing her in a shirt and shorts was inappropriate—and maybe it was—Marina eyed the bedroom. She was breathing rapidly, realizing where she was.
“Oh,” she said. It was a simple word. Looking up at me, her nose was the color of a cherry. “Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm—it's just...”