Of course, I should’ve remembered that Avery sleeps even less than me. He’s already up, humming beneath his breath as he pours himself a cup of coffee.
My eyes can’t help but drag over his well-defined golden chest and to his wildly tousled hair. He looks like a rumpled angel—a fallen angel. Everything about him screams perfection and beauty, even with the morning shadow on his chiseled jawline.
I bite my lip tentatively as I watch him sway back and forth to a beat only he can hear. He’s a complete morning person. I’m pretty sure he rolls out of bed with a jovial smile on his face, showcasing his plump dimples. Even now, bare-chested with a baggy pair of basketball shorts riding low on his hips, he reminds me of a museum art piece. He’s just as ethereal as something you would see on a canvas.
“Shit, Em!” Avery exclaims suddenly as he spins around and spots me. Crimson colors his golden cheeks as he ducks his head sheepishly. “How long have you been standing there like a creeper?”
“Five or six hours,” I deadpan.
“Well, shit. Then you witnessed my morning masturbation, correct?” he teases, and I roll my eyes to cover up the instinctive blush. Because Avery masturbating? That visual does strange things to me, things I most definitely shouldn’t feel for my best friend.
“Whatever, dork.” With a huff, I bend down to grab my tennis shoes before plopping on the edge of the table to lace them up.
“Where are you off to?” he queries with genuine confusion. “It’s not even ten yet. And you haven’t even had your normal two cups of coffee.”
I give him a dry look. “I’m going on a run, obviously.”
The crease between his eyes deepen. “Did the zombie apocalypse happen overnight?”
“You know what…” Jumping gracefully to my feet, I grab an apple from the fruit bowl and toss it at his head. He sidesteps the throw easily, a smirk dancing on his lush lips. “You’re an asshole.”
“Nah, I’m hilarious.” Immediately, his smile fades, replaced by a look of concern. “I heard about what happened yesterday. Are you okay? What the fuck—”
“It was just a prank,” I say dismissively, my heart thudding at the lie. I want to tell Avery the truth—about my stalker and the smoking man—but I wouldn’t be able to survive it if I accidentally put him in danger. Avery’s too good for this world, too pure, and I don’t want my darkness tainting him.
“Do you think it’s safe for you to be—”
Once more, I cut him off. “Avery, seriously, I’m fine. It was just a prank that probably wasn’t even intended for me. Now, I’m going to go on a run. And not because there are zombies chasing me.”
Avery still doesn’t look convinced, but he concedes with a nod of his head.
“Be safe. Bring your pepper spray.”
Giving him a two-fingered salute, I duck out of the apartment before he can demand to come with me. Because, knowing Avery as well as I do, I wouldn’t put it past him. Actually, I’m surprised he’s allowing me to go off by myself in the first place. He must have something important to do before his morning classes.
Maybe he has a date?
For some reason, red flashes across my vision like errant fireworks at the thought, but I dismiss my reaction immediately. I don’t have a claim to Avery. We’re best friends, nothing more. We’ve always only ever been best friends.
Instead of focusing on my tumultuous emotions, I shove them in a steel box and lock it shut, burying it miles below the ground. No one, not even me, can access them ever again.
It’s still dark when I finally exit the apartment complex and do my usual pre-run stretches in the parking lot. I can’t remember the last time I put my body through strenuous activity. Weeks ago, most likely. Maybe even months. When I left home for college, I also left a part of my life behind—the part that spent her days in the gym, throwing punch after punch into the precariously hanging bag. It always made me feel like a pariah when I was younger. While most girls my age were signing up for the student senate or the volleyball team, I was training in hand-to-hand combat, as well as a variety of weapons. The only sport I ever did was cheerleading, and that was to increase my flexibility for…well…certain activities.
I start my pace at a slow jog, my feet pounding against the asphalt. There’s a route I like to run when my brothers come and visit me. Less than a mile from the apartment is a quaint park with a multitude of hiking trails. Some are harder to maneuver than others, but I love the challenge. At this time of morning, I’ll be lucky to see another person besides myself.
The rising sun illuminates the steel slide and rusty swing set in the park as I veer to the right, choosing one of the more difficult paths. This one will lead me up and down numerous hills before curving around the diminutive lake our town’s known for. It’s approximately fifteen miles, but I should be able to finish it within the hour if I go fast enough.
I pick up my pace as I enter the dense thicket of trees, their branches appearing almost malevolent and eerie in the reddish glow of the sun.
It almost feels as if the tension settling on my shoulders like an unbearably heavy weight is physically ebbing with every step I take. As my breaths saw in and out, I allow myself to momentarily forget about what just transpired. There’s nothing but me, the trees, and my erratic panting as I climb up a steep dirt hill.
I’m safe. No one can hurt me.
No one can—
A gunshot reverberates through the air, and I release a startled scream as I fall to the side, skinning my knees on a protruding rock. Terror pulses through me as I begin to
