All Chapters of DANGEROUSLY WANTED: The criminal next-door: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

  "You got a package"   Alyssa's voice rang the moment I stepped into the office.   "Good morning to you too, Alyssa"  I replied tentatively to her unusual form of greeting. Usually , she never greets, just a pesky nod at everyone in the room and then she sits back in her little cubicle with her face buried in her books but there she sat today with an amused look on her face as if something caught her interest. I knew what did when my eyes landed on the package the size of a shoe box lying on my table. Surprisingly, she was the only one in the office when I entered.   "Where’s everybody?" I asked   "out back , no idea what's going on with them" she replied flipping a page of her book.   I knew the smile on my face was awkward when I went over to my table to inspect what the package was. It was a black box with a red bow around it. It felt  too light in the

 I started working on my clues the next day.     Right after Dwyer left my bed the next morning.   Just like the last time, he left without saying a word. Slipping out of the room and going to god-knows-where. I personally knew that he didn’t return home and I pretended like I didn’t see him slip out of my room stealth like a cat. I knew that while I slept , he bored holes into my body with his eyes  for the longest of time. I had tried to control my breathing as he did, not sure why he was looking at me like that. It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable though but I wondered if he just suddenly had the urge to strangle me right there and then so he could get over his problems once and for all. And when he slept too, I did the same thing as him only he was actually deep in his own sleep. My eyes took in every detail again like I didn’t see them before. It's like every  time I see it , it mesmerizes me the more. The g

I'll be in the shower   That definitely left ungodly ideas in my head that all the soap in a soap making factory couldn’t wash off. I was glued to the fucking fridge like a sticker, a huge one that wasn’t made of paper with my breathing caught in my throat and my palms red and sweaty from grasping unto the fridge a little bit too hard. It took a little too long to get a hold of my racing heart thrumming hard against my ribcage as if it was going to burst out of its restraint.   For a split moment, just a split moment of weakness that Dwyer ignited, I considered plodding over to room and into the shower with him. For one, I knew it was my sex speaking and not me but I'd go everywhere that baby wants to go of it means Dwyer would be there. Even my damned angel and demon were so whipped that they couldn’t tell me what to do in the situation I was, fucking backstabbers!. I was smart enough to know that Dwyer's words were sex-inclined. He was tea

"Let's go over the rules one last time"   Rules.   The one thing I hated about playing that damned game of twenty questions. I should have known that it was too good to be true when he made the call himself. For a split moment after he said that to stop me from stumping past him, the tiny voices in my head warned me that he only said that because of the words I said to him and mostly because of his unlike for the detective. It was like something he'd said on impulse because he couldn’t bare to see me with the detective or lose me to him, as stupid as that sounds though, it had me lured in and accepting of the fact that Dwyer was jealous.   It's as clear as crystal that Dwyer only agreed to letting me get to know him using the twenty questions game because he felt like he was losing something or in my case, someone. I should be worried and paying heed to the whirling warning signs in my head but at the same time, it was a

The beautiful scent of brewed coffee dominated the air, effortlessly covering up every other scent that was meant to be in the room. I could feel my insides twist and myself salivate absentmindedly at the thought up sipping my favorite thing ever, the traditional way instead of the usual one from my coffee maker.  She said she used to work at a particular café in the town when she was 18 and so when I told her how much I loved caffeine, she was off to her kitchen to put those dusty brewing equipment to work. Her words though, not mine. Her house was perfect and warm, embracing me with the goodness of a home. It was small on the outside but big enough for the little family of three---two now. Framed pictures lined the surfaces of the house. One was a picture of her, smiling brightly in the arms of her now dead husband. And the rest was, well pretty much the same. Her husband and her, on the beach , at a party, was it Halloween? At the hospital with their