Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55 

A cold shiver creeps down my spine. 

Suddenly, I feel like someone’s watching me. 

I glance over my shoulder, but the bullpen looks exactly the same–half–empty and disinterested. 

Still… the itch won’t go away. 

I shake it off, forcing myself to focus. 

I scribble the document code onto another sticky note and shove it deep into my pocket. 

I’ll dig deeper tomorrow. 

I’ll find out what really happened that night. 

I drag in a ragged breath through my nose, trying to keep the panic from swallowing me whole. My fingers clutch the edge of the desk hard enough to dent the cheap wood veneer. 

Focus, Taryn. 

The room around me stays the same–keyboards clacking, printers whirring, the faint burnt–coffee smell lingering in the stale air. Nobody’s watching. Nobody knows what I just found. 

Except… 

That fucking itch between my shoulder blades hasn’t left. 

Like someone’s standing just out of sight–eyes drilling into the back of my skull. 

I glance over my shoulder again. 

Nothing. 

The bullpen is half–empty, the remaining reporters hunched over their desks, picking at leftover takeout or scrolling through headlines like they couldn’t give a single shit about whatever story they’re writing. 

But something’s wrong. 

I can feel it. 

It’s like the whole room is wrapped in invisible thread–tugging tighter and tighter around my throat. 

I shove the sticky note with the document code into my pocket, my heart pounding so hard I swear it’s trying to claw its w 

my chest. 

out of 

Tomorrow. 

I’ll dig deeper tomorrow. 

But right now, I need to get the hell out of here before I completely fucking spiral. 

I log out of the system, grab my bag, and practically bolt toward the stairwell–shoving through the heavy door and takin the steps two at a time. 

By the time I hit the street, cold night air slaps me in the face–sharp and biting against the swea 

clinging to my skin 

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Chapter 55 

I suck in a lungful, bracing my hands on my knees as I try to calm the wildfire ripping through my bloodstream. 

I should go home. 

I should sleep. 

1 should forget about this–pretend like I didn’t just stumble onto something that could unravel everything I thought I knew about myself. 

But the problem is… 

I don’t fucking want to forget. 

I want to know. 

I want the truth–every filthy, buried, twisted inch of it. 

Even if it guts me. 

Even if it kills me.. 

The sharp sting of tears pricks behind my eyes, but I blink them back hard. Crying won’t fix shit. 

I push off the wall, turning onto the sidewalk and pulling my jacket tighter around myself. The city’s still wide awake around me–neon signs flickering, cars rumbling past, cigarette smoke curling from alleyways. 

The further I walk, the heavier the weight in my chest gets–like something’s pressing down on me, squeezing tighter and tighter until I can barely fucking breathe. 

I don’t even realize where I’m going until I find myself standing at the edge of the river–water lapping at the stone embankment, silver and black under the moonlight. 

The necklace tucked under my shirt suddenly feels like it’s burning against my skin. 

I dig it out, wrapping my fingers around the cold metal. 

Enoch’s necklace. 

I haven’t taken it off. Not once. 

Not since he left. 

Not since he broke me. 

I close my eyes, pressing it to my lips like a goddamn idiot–as if he can feel it from wherever the hell he is now. 

“I fucking hate you,” I whisper into the night, my voice breaking. 

The necklace doesn’t answer. 

Figures. 

He’s always been good at leaving me to choke on silence. 

I don’t even know why the hell I’m doing this. Why I still miss him. Why I still feel like there’s this invisible thread stretche between us–tugging harder every night, pulling him closer even when he’s long fucking gone. 

I should hate him. 

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I do hate him. 

But I’d still fall to my knees and beg him to stay if he ever came back. 

I swipe at my wet cheeks, cursing under my breath. 

Pathetic. 

I’m so goddamn pathetic. 

I stare at the necklace tangled in my fingers, the silver wolf pendant catching in the moonlight–tiny and fragile against my palm. 

He promised he’d come back. 

He fucking promised. 

“Are you out there, Enoch?” I whisper, throat tight. 

Nothing. 

Just the river rushing beneath the bridge. 

Just the city breathing around me. 

Just me–alone, like always. 

I shake my head, forcing myself to tuck the necklace back under my shirt. My whole body feels stretched too thin–frayed a the edges, barely holding myself together. 

I need to get my shit together. 

I need to let him go. 

I start to turn away- 

And then I hear it. 

Low. Faint. Almost too far to believe. 

A howl. 

It echoes through the night–deep and broken, carried on the cold wind like a ghost’s whisper. 

I freeze, every hair on the back of my neck standing on end. 

No. 

No, it can’t be. 

It’s just some random wolf in the outskirts. 

It’s not him. 

It’s not him. 

My heart slams into my ribs so hard I feel like I’m gonna throw up. 

I stare out across the river, my breath coming fast–waiting. Praying. 

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Chapter 55 

Nothing. 

Just the water and the wind and the faint hum of the city behind me. 

I’m going insane. 

I’m hearing shit that isn’t there. 

I force myself to turn away–putting one foot in front of the other, swallowing down the lump in my throat as I head back toward the apartment. 

But I swear- 

I can feel him. 

Watching. 

Waiting. 

Closer than he’s ever been. 

By the time I finally crawl into bed, the city outside my window is quiet–wrapped in shadows.