Someone Else Was in My Bed

I lived alone, but my longdistance boyfriend recorded snoring that wasn't mine during one of our overnight calls. The next morning, he teased me. "Babe, you snore.

You sound like the cutest little piglet." I denied it without thinking. "I recorded it. Listen." Snoring rolled through my phone speaker, again and again.

Cold sweat slid down my back. I had spent more than ten years sharing rooms with other people. I knew exactly how I slept, and I did not snore.

What had started as a joke now sounded like a warning. So whose snoring was it?

Chapter 1 The 3D spatialaudio headphones I had bought to make our longdistance sleep calls feel less lonely now put that deep, rough snoring inches from my ear.

Goose bumps rose across my skin. For one awful moment, I wasn't listening to a recording. It sounded like someone was lying on his side beside me, breathing hot air against my ear.

I shuddered. "Babe? Why aren't you saying anything?" My silence made Owen rush to apologize. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to record you." "I just thought your snoring was cute.

I wasn't making fun of you. I snore too." "But I don't snore." My voice shook. I had been sharing bedrooms with other people since I was twelve.

If I snored that loudly, my roommates would have smothered me with a pillow years ago. But if it wasn't me, who else could it be?

Unless someone had climbed into bed with me while I slept. Owen tried to calm me down. "Babe, haven't you been exhausted lately?

I've heard people can snore when they're worn out." I had been working late and carrying too much stress. That was why I'd started staying on the phone with him until I fell asleep.

Maybe I really was just exhausted. I shoved down the unease and opened my securitycamera app with shaking fingers.

Because I lived alone, I had installed a camera outside my apartment door as soon as I moved in. If someone had slipped inside, I was sure the footage would show it.

The thought made me shiver. I scrubbed through every clip. Thank God. Other than me, the camera hadn't caught anyone. So was that chainsaw snoring really mine?

Heat crept into my face. "Are we still sleeping on the phone tonight?" Owen asked when my embarrassed silence stretched on. Our sleep calls had helped me rest.

Most nights, my head hit the pillow and I was out. With work grinding me down, I hadn't slept that well in a long time.

I lowered my voice. "You're not going to think I'm gross because I snore, are you?" Owen laughed. "Never. Even your little piglet snorts are cute." I forced a smile.

Maybe it was the fear I couldn't quite shake, but I slept badly that night. My thoughts followed me into a dream. Through the haze, a dark shape appeared beside my bed.

It stood there without moving. I tried to open my eyes. Tried to scream. Tried to fight. My body wouldn't move. The shadow bent down and lifted my blanket.

A cold body slid in behind me and pressed close. One stiff arm closed around my waist. The same rough snoring from the recording filled my ear.

Damp breath brushed the back of my neck. Even in the dream, my own bed no longer felt like mine. "Hrrr… Hrrr…" Chapter 2 The snoring exploded beside my ear.

My eyes flew open, and I shot upright in bed. Morning light spilled through the curtains and across the sheets. The space beside me was empty.

The mattress lay smooth, without a single dent. It had been a dream. I let out the breath I'd been holding. Way too real.

Even awake, I could still swear something damp had touched the back of my neck. It was almost time to get up, and my call with Owen had ended sometime during the night.

Once my pulse settled, I sent him a message. [Morning, babe. I'm up.] He must have been staring at his phone. The typing bubble appeared at once and stayed there.

I hadn't even sent What's wrong? when his call came through. His voice sounded rough and tight. "Babe, are you out of bed?" "I just woke up. What were you about to say?

You're acting weird." "Nothing. Oh, I ordered breakfast for you, but the driver can't find your building.

Can you go downstairs and meet him?" "You know I never eat breakfast." I had half an hour before I usually left for work. I still had to shower, get dressed, and pack my bag.

I did not want to go downstairs. "Tell him to ask at the lobby desk. This place isn't hard to find, and I'm going to be late." It was a normal refusal. Owen's voice shot up.

Every word came out hard and mean. "Why do you have to be so selfish? Delivery drivers barely make anything.

If he gets penalized for being late, are you going to pay him?" My temper flared. "That's his problem. What does it have to do with me?

I'm about to be late for work too." "So now this is my fault?

I tried to do something nice for you, and somehow I'm the bad guy?" "That's not what I—" "Go downstairs and get the food right now, or we're done." I froze.

Owen and I had been together since college. Work had sent us to different cities after graduation, but our relationship had always been solid.

I never imagined he would threaten to end it over one small favor. Last night, he had been whispering sweet things to me.

I forced down the hurt. "Owen Pierce, have you wanted to break up for a while? Is this just your excuse?" Silence held for two seconds. "Just go get the food.

We'll talk after." "Fine. I can't wait to hear what you have to say." I slammed my apartment door and stormed downstairs. "I'm here.

Where's the driver?" Owen's cold tone vanished. "Babe, go straight to the lobby security desk. I'm calling 911." "Why?" "I can't explain yet.

Get to the desk, or anywhere with people. I'm sorry, babe." "I had to get you out. I was scared that person might still be inside your apartment.

If he realized I knew, he might hurt you." "What are you talking about?" Cold raced from my spine to my scalp. My legs went weak.

I looked back at the building entrance, and the dark corner beyond the glass suddenly seemed to hold a pair of eyes. I ran for the lobby security desk.

Chapter 3 Owen kept talking to me as I ran. "Don't be scared, babe. I've called 911." "The police are almost there.

I bought an Amtrak ticket, and I'm on my way to Chicago now." "So someone really got into my apartment?

How do you know?" Silence stretched over the call. "I couldn't sleep last night," he finally said. "It was a little after three. I heard a man's voice on your end.

He said, 'Babe, you smell so good.'" Owen paused. "At the same time, I heard someone breathing very softly.

That was you." His next words came slower. "You don't snore when you sleep, do you? Because the moment that man spoke, the snoring stopped.

So…" It was broad daylight, but sweat broke across my skin. This had nothing to do with stress or exhaustion. The snoring had belonged to someone else all along.

Someone had been hiding in my apartment. While I slept, he had climbed into my bed and lain beside me. The police arrived fast.

With the officers beside me, I returned to my apartment. Everything looked exactly as I had left it. Still, the rooms no longer felt familiar.

I stood outside the door and searched my memory for anyone suspicious who had crossed my path. A delivery driver. A maintenance worker. A neighbor.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't imagine who would target me. The officers searched the apartment. The lock had no pry marks. The window latches were secure.

Even the dust under the bed, inside the closet, and in the forgotten corners had not been disturbed.

The doorcamera footage from the past week showed the same thing it had shown me. Only me. I lived on the fifteenth floor.

My windows had safety stops, and there was no balcony or exterior fire escape. The officers ruled out entry through a window.

Every piece of evidence seemed to say no second person had ever been inside. Owen lost his patience over the phone. "Then explain the recording.

Explain the man's voice." "Someone got in. You just haven't found out how." One officer's expression tightened. "We checked every place a person could hide.

This is an old building." "Sound carries through the walls and air vents.

Hearing a voice doesn't prove it came from inside this unit." After taking my statement, the officers told me to replace the lock and secure every door and window at night.

Then they left. "Babe, I heard him." Owen's voice strained through the phone. "You have to believe me. Don't stay there alone. I'll be there as soon as I can." I checked the time.

It was almost nine. I had an important meeting that morning. If I missed it without warning, my manager would make me pay for it. A hotel wasn't realistic either.

Chicago rent was already brutal, and I still had months left on my lease.

Breaking it early could cost me my security deposit, an earlytermination fee, and however many nights I spent in a hotel. I texted my landlord.

His answer confirmed it, and the last of my hope died. Owen and I were two broke, overworked twentysomethings barely two years out of college.

Being broke was scarier than a haunted apartment. "How about this?" I said. "I'll go to work. When you get here, we'll search the whole apartment together.

Okay, babe?" Owen went quiet for a few seconds before he agreed. "Then promise me you won't be alone today." Chapter 4 "Okay." "Text me when you get to work." "Okay." "I'll pick you up when you're done." "Okay." The more he fussed over me, the more my eyes burned.

After we hung up, I gathered my things and started to get dressed. Then I reached the side of my bed and stopped. My pillow was crooked. Only by a tiny angle.

On any normal day, I never would have noticed. Today, I couldn't look away. Maybe one of the officers had moved it during the search.

I told myself that as my hand reached for the pillow. My breath caught. A single hair lay beneath it. Black. Short. Coarse. My hair was long and dyed auburn.

That strand could not be mine. My blood went cold. The door camera had caught no one but me all week. I had changed my sheets three days ago.

So how had that hair ended up under my pillow? Knock. Knock. Knock. My hand jerked. "Who is it?" My voice barely sounded like mine. The hallway stayed quiet for one second.

Then a familiar male voice answered. "Ms. Mercer? It's me." It was my landlord, Russell Vaughn.

Some of the tension left my body, but I still didn't open the door. "What do you need?" "Building management told me the police were called to your unit." Concern carried through the door. "I was nearby, so I came to check on you.

Are you all right?" I closed my fist around the short hair. My palm had gone slick. "I'm fine.

It was a misunderstanding." "I'm glad you're okay." Russell sighed. "Living alone can be scary when something like this happens.

Want me to take a look at your lock?" "The building's old, but I put good locks on these units. There shouldn't be a problem." He sounded as confused as I was.

I hesitated, then opened the door.

Russell stood in the hallway with a bag of fruit in one hand. "That must have scared you." He offered me the bag. "Management said the police were here.

I thought something serious had happened." I managed a small smile. "You didn't have to come all this way." "It's no trouble." He waved that off. "You're my tenant.

If something happens to you here, I have a responsibility." Russell lowered his head and bent to inspect the lock. I stood beside him with the hair still trapped in my fist.

For a few seconds, I considered showing it to him. Then I decided not to. The police said no one had entered. It was one hair. Maybe Owen had left it during his last visit.

Maybe an officer had carried it in during the search. If I started waving it around now, I would only look paranoid.

Russell checked the lock and the doorframe. "Everything looks good.

The lock cylinder is intact, and there aren't any pry marks." He stood and softened his voice. "If it would make you feel safer, I can send someone tomorrow to add a security chain." "You can do that?" Chapter 5 "Of course." Russell smiled. "Working in a city on your own isn't easy.

If this helps you feel safe, it's worth doing." Russell had always been a good landlord.

When I first toured the apartment, he heard I had just graduated and offered me $200 off the monthly rent. Any time I had a plumbing or electrical problem, he responded fast.

He had only come over because he heard I had called the police. I couldn't treat every person who came near me like a threat. Besides, Russell had curly hair.

The coarse strand in my hand couldn't be his. "Thank you." "What for?" His smile stayed gentle. "It's hard being on your own.

I'll text you as soon as I find someone to install the chain." I nodded. After Russell left, I went back to my bedroom. The short hair still lay in my palm.

I stared at it for a long time, then wrapped it in a tissue. At the front door, I turned for one last look at the bedroom.

Sunlight fell through the curtains and across the messy blankets. Nothing looked different. Still, I couldn't shake the sense that someone else's warmth clung to that bed.

I snapped myself out of it, locked the door, and hurried to the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I didn't notice the pair of eyes watching me through the peephole of the shut door at the end of the hall. At lunch, Owen texted me. [Babe, I'm here.

I checked the whole apartment. There's no sign anyone got in. I might really have heard it wrong.] His message finally loosened the knot inside me.

I sent him a sadcat sticker. [You scared me to death.] [I'm sorry, babe. I was wrong.] Then he called. "You know, living alone isn't safe.

Have you thought about quitting and moving to St. Louis?" "I was terrified today.

We're so far apart that if anything happens to you, I can't get here fast enough." After years of long distance, Owen had raised the idea more than once.

But my field offered its best opportunities in Chicago, and my career was finally taking off. If I quit now, I would have to start all over.

My silence made him change the subject at once. "Sorry, babe.

I was just thinking out loud." His tone brightened. "To make it up to you, I'm staying tonight." He said it like the decision had already been made.

We hadn't seen each other in a month, and he had taken a few days off so he could stay with me.

I knew he was doing it because he didn't want me to be scared. "Thank you, babe." Owen laughed under his breath. "You're only going to thank me with words?

When you get home tonight, you could…" His voice dropped. Heat climbed into my ears, and I called him shameless before I started laughing.

The moment I walked out of work, I spotted Owen waiting by the curb. He hurried toward me and pulled me into his arms. "I'm here." His familiar warmth closed around me.

The tension I'd carried all day finally eased. When we reached my apartment, the smell of dinner filled the room.

I stared at him. "When did you make all this?" Chapter 6 "Guess." Owen's eyes crinkled as he lifted his chin. "The soup's still on the stove. It should be ready.

I'll get it." He carried the pot out of the kitchen. Steam softened the lines of his face. My eyes stung.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind. "Owen, how are you this good to me?" After he set the last dish on the table, he turned and swept me into his arms.

One eyebrow rose. "This is all it takes to impress you?" He looked down at me, his eyes full of laughter. "Then how about a little dessert before dinner?" Owen lowered his mouth to mine.

I looped my arms around his neck and rose on my toes to meet him. His kiss was as gentle as I remembered. For those few seconds, the fear of the past two days disappeared.

When the long kiss ended, I slowly opened my eyes. My breath stopped. There was someone behind Owen. A man I had never seen before stood less than half a step behind him.

His pale face almost touched Owen's shoulder. Pitchblack eyes stared straight at me. Our