Prisoner 4-0-9 novel Chapter 11

While Trevor went to work, I realized that my Sociology textbook must've stayed at Dain's house also.

Without hesitation, I called Uber and got myself to his house, using the spare key and walking in.

Nothing had changed, it all looked the way he left it.

Such a beautiful place, such distasteful memories.

The study room was the only place I didn't go in, that's where Dain spent mostly all his time. I didn't really think that I'd leave it there, since he didn't like me in there, but sometimes I would be an exception.

Pulling the door open, I let my eyes drift all over the room, from the library shelves to the only table in the far corner.

This was the only place he'd allow himself to be humane in front of me.

I walk over to the desk, immediately spotting the bright red and white book, but something else catches my attention.

Dain was a person who couldn't stand messes, he liked everything neat with not a spot out of place.

So a gash in the table, seemingly deep wouldn't have lasted a few hours in his house.

With furrowed eyebrows I look closer, only to find a dark red dried substance on the inner parts

I bite the inside of my cheek before shrugging it off. The quietness of the house was a little too spooky for me.

I leave with a mind filled with thoughts and a heavy brain study in my hand.

It was about nine when Trevor walked in. He looked weird in my apartment.

Towering over everything and barely fitting in the door frames, he smiles upon seeing me.

"You're still up." He states the obvious.

"Yea, I'm not really that tired," I inform him and he nods, stepping closer to the couch. "I um, I contacted some of the artists I knew... some of them even claim to know you."

"That's great, did they say accept?" He asks, sitting closely next to me.

"Most of them did, and the rest... didn't really like you." I chuckle as he snorts, leaning back into the couch.

"That's not much of a surprise. I'll meet with them sometime this week." He closes his eyes, and I can't help but once again survey his face. He was undeniably handsome. His nose was slightly crooked, and some of his black hair grazed his forehead. His skin was flawless -

"One guava juice, and fries and fish, a coke and fully cooked steak and fries." The waitress throws both of us a genuine smile before leaving.

The food smelled heavenly, you never really know you're hungry until you smell food.

"Alright Ocean, there's a catch to me buying you food," he says as I start eating and I nearly choke at how blunt he was.

"Excuse me?"

"We're gonna play a game."

"A game?"

"Yes, a game, I'm going to ask you questions, and if you choose not to answer you have to eat an entire celery from that," he points to the waitress coming over with the ugliest, spoilt stalks of celery I have ever seen. "Plate."

"Don't worry same goes for me too."

I grimace at his wicked smirk as he leans back in his seat. I chuckle a little before running a hand through my hair.

"I think I just lost my appetite."