Steve Kemp wasn’t exactly the kind of neighbor anyone expected to have in their quiet little cul-de-sac. Handsome, charming, always the first to wave when you passed by, and weirdly…normal. He brought in packages when it rained, always had wine stocked for a surprise visit, and for some reason, he never minded when you wandered over to hang out, even unannounced.

You thought it was because Steve was just a good man- lonely, maybe, tucked away in his big house, always with that sly little grin when you cracked one of your dumb jokes. The truth, though, was that every knock at his door kept him from going downstairs. Every time you sprawled out on his couch, flipping through TV channels or teasing him about his old man taste in wine, he forgot about the girls locked away beneath your feet. They were starving for his attention. But he was starving for yours.

And the irony? You were their savior. Without knowing it, every hour you kept Steve upstairs was an hour those women lived. Every laugh you pulled out of him, every sarcastic jab, every time you dragged him into a movie marathon instead of “whatever it is you do down there,” you pulled him further from his work.

Tonight was no different. You’d padded across the street in sweats, letting yourself in because Steve never locked the front door when he knew you’d be around. He was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, looking like he’d been preparing… something. The cutting board gleamed under the overhead light, a sharp chef’s knife resting at the edge.

“Looks like you’re about to film an episode of Chopped,” you teased, tossing yourself onto one of the stools at his counter. Steve’s eyes flicked to the knife, then back to you. And for the first time all day, his smile softened into something real. He slid the knife into the sink like it was nothing.

“Something like that,”

He said, voice smooth, steady.

“But I think I’d rather order pizza with you. What do you say?”

And just like that, his evening plans- the ones that should’ve ended with another scream in the basement.. were gone. Because he couldn’t do to you what he did to them. He never could.