away from him. He’s wondering if it’s another man, I’m sure. Maybe he thinks Greyson is back, occupying the house somewhere. Calling out for me and asking me to join him in my bed, naked and hard for me. Maybe he even thinks we just fucked, my thighs still slick with another man’s seed. Does that piss him off? Of course it does. He mutilated and killed a man for touching me. What would he do to a man for fucking me? What would he do to me? Doesn’t matter that it’s the furthest thing from the truth. The fact that those thoughts could be running through his head and driving him crazy brings a small smile to my lips. Just to fuck with him, I turn my head and pretend to shout something out. “What are you doing?” I say aloud, aiming my words towards a ghost that’ll never reply. Looking back at my shadow, I see him pull out his phone, the blue light getting lost in the depths of his hood as he looks at something. Several seconds later, he tucks it away in his pocket, slides out another cigarette from the pack, and lights it up. Chain smoker. Gross. He sticks around for another fifteen minutes. And during that time, I scarcely look away. It feels like a game almost, and I’ve always been a sore loser.