"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. Get along with the voices, inside of my head."

--- Rihanna

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are you going to tell me why were you shot and badly bruised. Not to forget most wounds on your chest say that they were caused by someone who was wearing brass knuckles?"

He looks at me attentively. No words coming out of his mouth.

"Look here Christian, I want answers. Because I can easily involve the police in this case. But I've decided not to." I explain. "Well until I hear your side of the story before making assumptions.

"Look the less you know, the less you would be in trouble. You just need to know that those people were after my father's money and they got to me and we're using me as leverage but I managed to escape but got shot and here we are." He tells me.

"Then you should call the police to catch those people you could have died Christian. It's not a joke." I say.

"I know, that's why my dad has this handled. You don't need to worry." He says while eating his pancakes. "These are good. Just like my mom's." He changes the topic.

"Okay," I say. "And uh thank you."

We eat our breakfast in silence but are interrupted by my phone ringing.

I get up and answer the call from Uncle Smith.

"Hello?"

"Hi dear." He says.

"Hello, Uncle. How was your night?" I ask.

"It was good, thank you. But Missy you never texted me. I was worried and you didn't even answer your phone. I thought something happened."

"I am so sorry Uncle, I got home and went straight to my bed. It slipped out of my mind." I say glancing at Christian. "I am fine though. I just had a very long night."

"It's alright sweetie. And listen you don't need to come in today."

"What? No Uncle I have to come in today. There is no way I could miss a day." I complain.

"But you can't. Look at the weather. It's going to get worse today. Just stay in."

"Okay Uncle. Goodbye." I sigh.

"Bye, sweetie."

I go towards Christian and pick up his empty plates.

"Victoria?"

"Yeah?" I ask putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

"In my clothes, did you find anything, I mean my cell and wallet?" He asks.

"Yeah. I will get it for you." I tell him.

I go into my room and open the drawer of the side table and take out his phone and wallet.

I walk out to him.

"Here."

"Thank you."

He starts scrolling through his phone and I sit opposite to him and do the same.

I have a few texts here and there. I open the ones from Lucy, the patient I am taking care of.

Hello Tori!! 😙🤓😘

-- Lucy4eyes.

She is a bit overdramatic but a fighter. She fought breast cancer once at the age of twenty. Now she is twenty-nine and again fighting cancer.

She is so strong.

I'm sorry. Uncle won't let me come. The weather is bad. 🙁

And it's okay Lucy, u can survive a day without me. 😂😂

Take care. 😘😘

-- Me

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I'm scrolling through messages and call logs. Uncle Smith's called many times last night.

I am interrupted by Christian.

"When does your uncle or your parents come back?"

Parents?

"Um my uncle lives in the city and my parents are not here," I tell him.

"So, you live alone?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Isn't this house too big for one person?" He pries into it.

"I don't see where this concerns you." I politely tell him with my best fake smile.

This house and my parents are a sensitive topic.

"Okay. So I wanted to ask you a favor." He says.

I put my phone away and give all of my attention to him. Gesturing him to continue.

"Can I stay at your house for a few days?" He asks.

"Why? Don't you have a house? I can drop you off after the storm." I offer.

"No that's not it." He sighs out.

"Can you please enlighten me then?" I say.

"It's not that simple. I -- Can you just please let me stay?" He is practically begging now.

"Is it about the people who attacked you?" I say. "I mean are they still out there? Are you still in danger?"

His dark brown eyes flicker with emotion, and before I could realize what it is, it goes away.

"Yeah. That's it. I want time to heal so that when I go out, I can protect myself. This is the place they will never expect me to be." He reasons.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" I ask.

"Well, I don't have anything with me to answer that question. But if I wanted to hurt you, I could've already but I didn't." He explains.

"How could you hurt me, when you, yourself are hurt." I point out.

"Yea, but I got many chances to do so, but I didn't." He opposes.

"Because you needed my help. Duh," I say like it's the most obvious thing.

"And besides you could not have hurt me, even if you tried," I add.

"And why is that?" He asks curiously.

"I know a few defenses myself and..." I trail off. "I'm not telling you more. You could use it against me." I cross my arms over my chest.

"No, I --" He stops and takes a deep breath. "You are right, I needed your help at that time, but I am telling you, I mean no harm, so please can you let me stay?" He begs, again.

"How long do you want to stay?" I ask.

"Maybe a month or more. It depends on the situation."

What situation?

I now think to myself. When I found him he was wearing good clothes and looked into his wallet. But I shouldn't judge him by his appearance. Looks can be deceiving.

He looks like he belongs to a good family. At least I think that. But I shouldn't judge a book by its cover. And these thoughts are irrelevant. I am just finding an excuse for me to let him stay.

Should I take the risk and let this completely handsome stranger live with me?

The guy who I know nothing about?

The guy who could practically be a murderer, a killer, or a kidnapper?

After much thought, I give him my answer.

"You can stay."

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