It only took ten more minutes, but Raven ran up her driveway, shuffling through her pockets until she found her house key.
After jamming it in the lock, she pried open the front door, shoving her keys back into her jacket and walked inside.
She had finally returned to her childhood home… everything was the same… the white walls that her mom repainted last year… the family portraits along with the hardwood floors…
Everything was the same, yes… normal…
The grandfather clock… the man with the bright yellow eyes sitting on the sofa—
Raven double-took, staring back at the sofa with wide eyes…
To find nothing there… not even a dent where the boy sat...
Her heart pounded against her chest… but she managed to calm it by taking a deep breath…
God… she was so terrified that she was hallucinating…
After shaking her head, she turned to the front door to close it.
And screamed.
“Chill,” Malachi said, brows raised. “Jesus christ.”
She pressed her hand to her chest, gasping. “You scared me!”
“Don’t have a heart attack, okay?” he said then. “I don’t feel like waiting in the emergency room for twelve hours.”
She looked up then, eyes widening.
He stood on her doorstep; feet pressed onto the welcome mat as his large frame filled the entire porch.
“Hold on…” she said, putting a finger up, “how did you know where I lived?”
And was that him on the couch earlier…?
No… no one could be that fast…
He only smiled, making something cold wash over her. “Gonna let me in, Princess?”
“No.” She caught the door, almost shutting in his face, but his foot shot out, catching the wood before it hit the frame.
She opened it again, glaring despite her entire body growing cold.
“Come on,” Malachi urged, sticking his lip out like a child. “Don’t be rude. I came all the way here.”
She peered behind him to see if there was an unfamiliar vehicle on the driveway.
There was nothing.
Did he walk?
But she still said, “My mom’ll be home soon.”
He smiled. “Lies. I know she’s in the hospital until Tuesday, Ray.”
She swallowed, though narrowed her eyes. “I don’t trust you, Mal.”
“You want to.”
“No, I don’t.”
He was right… she wanted to, but she knew it was a horrible idea to trust someone like him…
She mainly wanted to trust him because she didn’t really like feeling terrified… especially of someone her own age…
And especially when she knew somewhat that he was maybe involved in the mugging or whatever it was…
“Get your foot out of my door, Malachi,” she demanded sharply.
“Come on,” he whined, faking a pout. “Pweeeease? I can make French Toast,” he bounced his brows, “your favorite.”
She didn’t know how he knew her favorite food, but didn’t mention it.
She had to accept by now… he knew a lot about her…
And it was unsettling…
“No, Mal. Get out.”
“Come on,” he said, a half-smile lurking on his lips. “Just have me over for an hour, alright? And if you’re not happy, I’ll leave.”
She stared for a moment, knowing she had limited options because he would probably stay there until she complied.
And she knew if she got out her phone to call the police, he wouldn’t have that… same with shutting the door harder on his foot until it’d hopefully break off…
She exhaled through her nose, looking at the grandfather clock on the right of the door.
4:10 pm.
She glanced back at him. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
“And you won’t try to kill me?”
He blinked. “Why would I try to kill you?”
She shook her head, opening the door.
“Thanks, Ray,” he said. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“If you try anything,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I’m calling the police.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll be a kind house guest. Who will make you the best French Toast you’ve ever had.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine… the kitchen’s on the ri—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Malachi had already made it to the kitchen, shuffling through the fridge as if he lived here.
Was it him on the couch…?
She stared for a moment, hoping she didn’t just make a horrible decision… and if it mattered if she made the decision or not…
She continued watching him from the doorway while he started the stove to the exact temperature that her mom taught her how to cook… level four…
Mainly because their stove was stronger than most…
Malachi only split two eggshells, dumping the eggs into a bowl he found with no problem, and somehow found the exact spot where the trash can was… sliding out from the cabinet under the sink and tossed the shells in there…
After getting the bread from the fridge, he poured spices in the batter… cinnamon, ginger, vanilla…
And he found all of them without even looking…
He knew where they were…
Raven’s breathing became strained… and she turned to shut the door, picked up her backpack and looked back to Malachi…
Who had a knife in his hand… though he was still in the kitchen…
But he was examining it carefully…
She backed away a step… the light glistening off the blade burning her eyes and chilling her bones.
Malachi looked up at her at the movement. “What’s wrong?”
She stared for a moment… hearing no malice in his tone…
But by the way he was looking at the knife… she knew very well that he could’ve been hiding it…
He looked down to the blade for a moment, then back at her.
“I’m just using it to cut strawberries, Ray,” he explained.
Before she could answer… he went back to cooking, doing exactly what he said he would do and slicing the strawberries skillfully.
“Mal…” Raven said, watching him look up at her curiously, “I’m gonna go get something, okay?”
He nodded and went back to cutting seconds later.
So she ran up the stairs two at a time until she met the top floor, starting to her room on the left…
She shut the door behind her, dropping her backpack on the floor and took a deep breath…
She didn’t really need to get something… she just needed a breather…
He terrified her… and she hated it…
But now that she thought about it… it wasn’t a good idea to have him roaming around her house armed with a chef knife…
So, she needed to be quick…
She stepped up to her mirror, face breaking in a sweat, though she couldn’t understand why…
So she decided to pull up her long, black locks into a ponytail, hoping that the air would cool her neck and calm the heat flowing through her…
But a sudden sharp pain struck her side… and she winced, staring down at her black t-shirt.
She thought for a second that Malachi snuck in here and stabbed her, but she knew what it really was…
Raven drew up her shirt, sucking in a breath when the gauze on her side was darkening with blood…
Crap… she almost forgot about that…
It was hurting all day, but she managed to ignore it… but now if felt like daggers piercing her skin…
She cursed under her breath, running over to her nightstand despite the wound burning and shuffled through her top drawer.
After pulling out a box of bandages and antibacterial ointment, she sat on the side of the bed, holding up her T-shirt with her teeth and winced when she peeled off the bandage… the gauze sticking to the wound…
Her room door opened, and she heard a curious, “Raven?”
She shot her head up, dropping her shirt and stared wide-eyed at Malachi when he gazed at her with dark eyes…
“What are you doing in here?” she squeaked. “GET OUT!”
He only walked to her despite her words, setting a plate with layers of French Toast on the nightstand. “Let me see.”
“Mal, get ou—”
He shoved her down onto the bed, pressing a hand on her chest to keep her down when she tried to sit back up.
“What are you doing?” she questioned.
“You’re sweating,” he noted, “and you're trembling. You’ve been pale for the whole day. How long has it been bleeding?”
She stared. “What?”
He was a doctor now?
“Why do you care?” she said then.
“Answer,” he demanded.
She parted her lips at his sudden stern self… it took her a moment before saying, “I got it… this morning….”
“It’s been bleeding since this morning?” he questioned.
A small nod.
His eyes somehow darkened more… with an emotion she’d never thought she’d see…
“Do you have gauze in here?” he said then.
“Why are you—”
He looked to her. “Raven.”
She stared for a moment when she noticed the warning in his tone. “On… the nightstand….”
He pulled the box off the table next to them, tugging out a bandage and ripping it open with his teeth.
He reached for her shirt when she pressed her hand to the hem, staring at him worriedly.
“Move you hand, Raven.”
She shook her head, heart pounding.
How do I know if you're planning on hurting me instead of helping?
“Would you rather bleed out and faint? Maybe get an infection or sepsis and die?” he questioned. “Or would you rather let me help and be awake for it, hmm?”
She watched him for a moment. “Faint?” she echoed.
“Yes, Raven,” he said sharply. “Faint. You’ve been bleeding out for the last twelve hours with only a thin layer of gauze on the wound. It’s a miracle that you’ve even lasted this long without fainting.”
She moved her palm off her shirt then, staring down at his hand when he lifted the blood-stained fabric to the bottom of her chest.
Another sharp pain struck her when he pressed the gauze to the wound, and she cried out.
“I know,” he said sympathetically. “But I need you to hold it there, alright?”
She listened despite the pain burning her inside-out.
“Apply pressure,” he instructed, “we need to stop the bleeding.”
A small nod.
She tried to take deep breaths when tears brimmed in her eyes, hearing Malachi rip open another gauze pad.
“Press this on top.”
She did as he said, lifting her hand when he put another layer of gauze on the wound, letting her hold it down again with a choked sob.
“Do you have tape?” he said.
“Drawer…” she whimpered.
He ripped open another gauze pad. “Jesus… why haven’t you gone back to the hospital already?”
“I thought it was normal….”
“It’s not, Raven,” he said. “If the wound reopens—especially one this bad—it’s not normal. Even when it reopens bigger.”
She nodded, sweat glistening on her forehead.
“This one on top, too, okay?”
She lifted her hand, letting him place another gauze pad on her side, and then he pressed down, making her cry out.
“I know…” he whispered. “I know it hurts….”
She gripped onto his wrist tightly, hoping he’d loosen the pressure just a little…
“Didn’t the doctors tell you to come back if it reopens?” he said.
She shook her head. “I didn’t go to the hospital….”
He blinked. “What?”
“I didn’t go… They had to take care of my mom… and my dad… and I have school, too… I patched it up myself….”
“God, you’re an idiot,” he muttered.
“Hey!” she almost yelled. “Don’t say that… I’m trying, okay?”
“Trying to what?” he questioned. “Kill yourself?”
She only pressed her head back to the pillow. “I don’t need you to scold me… alright?”
“Who else is going to?”
She was silent… but thought, I already do… It’s my fault that my parents are in this mess…
He was silent.
“Mal…” she said then, holding onto his wrist tighter, “that hurts….”
“I have to do this,” he answered. “To stop the bleeding.”
“Can you be gentler…?”
“No, Princess.”
She turned her head into the pillow again.
“What hurt you?” he wondered.
“I don’t remember…” she answered.
“Where was it?”
“I don’t remember….”
“Who?”
“I don’t know that either… but he had blonde hair….”
Malachi’s eyes darkened.
“Why are you doing this…?” she questioned then, shaking slightly, though she wasn’t sure if it was the blood-loss or not. “Are you involved in this…?”
He was quiet, but released the pressure, making her gasp, and taped the gauze to the wound, getting up from the bed.
“It should be better,” he said then. “It’s slowing.”
She only stared. “That fast…?”
“If it reopens again, tell me, okay?”
“But… it doesn’t scab over… that fast….”
“No more questions,” Malachi said.
She only blinked, staring down at the gauze that wasn’t covered in blood yet.
“What did you do…?” she said. “Why isn’t it bleeding through…?”
And why wasn’t it hurting anymore…?
“Come on,” he said almost sadly. “Eat your food, Ray, okay?”
Before she could respond, he picked up her plate from the nightstand, lifting it…
But a steak knife slid off the ceramic, clattering the the ground.
Raven stared at it with wide eyes, watching Malachi pick it up and eye it for a moment…
Something dark washed over his expression, something she didn’t like…
She scooted toward the headboard, breathing shallowly. “Put it down, Mal.”
He looked to her then—confused—then back at the knife.
The dark look in his eyes was still there. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ray.”
She was silent, just watched him carefully.
He lightly set the knife on the nightstand, gazing back at her with his black eyes. “See?”
“How can I trust you?” she demanded.
“Good question.”
A cold fear erupted inside her when he dodged the question. “Get out.”
“Wha—”
“Out.”
“Ray—”
She thrusted a finger to her door. “GET OUT!”
He threw his hands up innocently, turning around and stepping out of the room, making his way down the hall.
“I meant my house!” she called to him.
He peaked his head in her doorway. “No.”
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