"Fear is the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is the fear of the unknown." - H.P. Lovecraft

Veronica

The silence of my loft was oppressive, broken only by the soft purring of Daisy curled up on my lap. Sleep had eluded me. I’d tossed and turned for hours, the image of Liam’s brother’s face, the echo of his words, a constant torment. *He’s up for parole.* The phrase played on repeat in my mind, a death knell to the fragile peace I had so carefully cultivated.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:17 AM. An ungodly hour. But sleep was a distant country, one I couldn’t reach. The dream, when it finally came, had been a chaotic jumble of fear and longing. Liam’s face morphing into Saint’s, his strong arms holding me close as we danced, the music swirling around us, a dizzying waltz between safety and danger. Then, the dream would shift, the warmth replaced by an icy chill, Saint’s protective gaze turning into something colder, more assessing. I’d wake with a gasp, my heart pounding, the lingering sense of unease clinging to me like a shroud.

Daisy stirred on my lap, her soft fur a small comfort in the darkness. I stroked her gently, trying to ground myself in the present, in the reality of my quiet, elegant loft. But the past had a way of seeping into the present, staining it with its darkness.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

I thought of Saint. His watchful eyes, his quiet intensity. He’d seen something. I knew he had. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the subtle shifts in my demeanor. And Marcus… The way he’d looked at me in the car, a mixture of concern and a knowingness that chilled me to the bone. He knew. He knew Liam had shown up. The thought made my stomach churn. What had Liam’s brother said to him? Had he revealed anything about Liam’s plans? The uncertainty gnawed at me.

I got up, restless and unable to stay still. The loft felt too small, too confining. I needed air, space to breathe, to think. I walked over to the window, gazing out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. They seemed so far away, so disconnected from the turmoil raging inside me. Below, the city slept, oblivious to the fear that gripped me.

A sudden sound from the living room made me jump. My heart pounded in my chest. I held my breath, listening intently. Silence. My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. Daisy hissed, her back arching, her fur standing on end. She sensed it too. Something was wrong. It wasn't just the creak of an old building settling; it was a presence, a feeling of being watched.

I reached for the small lamp on the nightstand, my hand shaking slightly. Clicking it on, I moved cautiously towards the living room, Daisy padding silently behind me, her eyes wide and alert. The living room was empty. Everything was in its place. Yet, the feeling of being watched, of being followed, persisted. The air felt thick, charged with a tension I couldn't explain.

I checked the locks on the windows and doors, double-checking the security system. Everything was secure. But the unease remained, a cold knot in my stomach. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was no longer safe, that the walls of my carefully constructed sanctuary were crumbling around me. Liam was back. And with him, the past I had tried so desperately to bury. And I knew, with a chilling certainty, that my life was about to change forever. This wasn't just about Liam's reappearance; it was about the fear he instilled, the sense of vulnerability he evoked. It was about the secrets I had guarded for so long, secrets that were now threatening to unravel. And as I stood there, in the quiet darkness of my loft, I felt a wave of despair wash over me. I was alone. And I was afraid.