Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance

There are dark clouds scattered across the heavens, the same color as Damian’s eyes. I stand at the backdoor staring up at them and I take my first step out into the backyard.

Jean is somewhere inside the house and I want a moment longer to myself after the rough night I’ve had. I walk towards the lining of trees behind the house. When I get closer I see a small creek. It’s real pretty out here and I regret not coming out sooner.

I sit down on a fallen branch and I stare at the trickling water, glistening over the smooth rocks. I close my eyes and listen to the soothing sounds all around me.

“Here you are.” Her voice shatters the peace around me and I groan inwardly. “I saw you walking this way and was hoping to find you.”

I squint up at her. She has an odd beauty. It screams at you to notice her. It’s a beauty that belongs under a spotlight. I quickly glance away. She doesn’t belong here all dressed up, with her sandals and frilly blouses. Her eyes are dark with make-up, and it brings out the blue of her eyes, but still – she doesn’t belong here.

I start chewing at the skin on my thumbnail, nervous tension coiling in my stomach.

“So what do you think of Damian?” she asks as she sits down next to me. I hate that she’s followed me out here.

I scoot up a little so we’re not too close to each other. Damian is the last subject I want to discuss with her.

“He’s nice,” I give the most average answer I can think of. It’s one of those questions I can’t really answer, because the truth is that he’s scary as fuck! He’s a killer – a monster with a heart of gold.

“Nice,” she repeats my word but it sounds different coming from her. I stare hard at the water.

“Have you been friends for long?” The words just spill out of me. I clench my fists and jaw.

“We’ve known each other for a few years now. He’s different than all the other men I know. Of course you would know that seeing as you’re living here … and all.”

I don’t know what she means and my head jerks to the side as I glance at her. There’s a faint smile around her lips, almost dreamlike.

“I met him at the bar. You know the one I sing at?” she asks. “You can say we are friends … I guess.”

I dart up. I don’t want to know what the ‘I guess’ means.

“Did you sleep alright last night?” I ask and I start to turn away from the answer coming. I shouldn’t dig. I should leave well enough alone.

“I did eventually,” she sighs and gets up too. “I…” she stutters and I have to wonder if it’s real or if she’s faking it for sympathy. “My brother got himself into a tight spot with a gang and they keep coming around the house. It’s not safe for me there. It’s real nice of Damian to let me stay until I can figure something else out.”

I don’t need to hear this. Her life does not concern me. I’m just passing through. A year from now Damian will only be a memory. I feel a pang of sadness which I don’t understand. It’s not like Damian and I are in any kind of relationship. ‘It’s because you feel grateful,’ I tell myself.

“Now they’re starting to phone me, demanding that I know where he is,” she goes on as if I should care. And somewhere deep inside of me I feel guilty for not caring. How stupid is that? She doesn’t care a single fuck about me. “At least Damian was there to take the call last night.”

Now I care. Why the fuck, I don’t know.

“He was so sweet,” she almost purrs.

I tell myself to walk away. Turn. Walk. Go! This does not concern me.

“It’s always comforting to be held by him.”

Finally! My legs listen and I start to walk.

“Coffee,” I mutter the word out as I leave her behind.

It shouldn’t bother me that Damian was with her last night, that he held her. He means nothing to me besides being a temporary safe haven that has reached its expiration date.



She laughs a lot for someone who’s going through a hard time. She touches him a lot too. A quick squeeze on the arm. A hug. Every time she touches him, I hate her more and more. By the end of the first day I have a bitter taste in my mouth, and it’s called Jean.

Jealousy doesn’t make you nasty. It makes you a fucking actor. It eats away at you until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be. You have to act to become someone, a better person than the one you’re jealous of. Does that make sense?

I hear him go into her room in the middle of the night. Seeing that it’s right next to mine, I can’t miss it. It’s killing me and I don’t even know why.

She’s been here four days and again Damian goes to her room. I hear her laugh and then they walk down the passage.

I shoot up. I’m out of my room sneaking down the damn passage like a criminal. It’s dark downstairs but I take the stairs down. There is a faint light coming from the living room and it lights up a small piece of the entrance hall. I peek in slowly and I go cold.

Michelle Horst's books