Her Every Fear

Jack was getting bold, which meant he was probably about to screw up.

felt a strange, unfamiliar sense of shame, as though those thoughts constituted not infidelity, exactly, but something like desperation.

some part of her, the animal part, would know she was being watched. They always do.

It didn’t purr, and when he pulled his hand away, it latched onto his forearm with both paws, its claws sinking into his flesh.

he could take hold of someone’s legs and bring them down to the dark, cold river bottom, where he could breathe but

he’d like to spend time in the apartment with her, especially if she didn’t know he was there

It was half and half. Always and forever.

He’d read or heard somewhere that if a man wanted to change his appearance he should shave his head and grow a mustache.

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And other things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us

doesn’t make sense. It makes him look guilty, so, if he is guilty, why would he lie? He’d just be caught out.”
“Welcome to my world,” the detective said,