by Wendy Cole
It hurt, dammit if it didn’t hurt, but I could imagine it felt better than a car would have.
With shaking legs, I pushed myself up and looked around. Of course, not a soul was around to thank for the sudden rescue.
The heavyset man inside the car rolled his window down and asked me if I was okay. I nodded, waved him off, and hurried to my car.
Normal life. The concept seemed more foreign than ever. How could I do that now? How could I do anything, accomplish anything, with this kind of shit coming at me every five seconds?
I left the lot in an even worse mood than I’d woken up with. The war was raging, and I had no way of knowing what I was up against.
***
When I pulled up to my new house, another car already sat in the driveway. I wasn’t surprised since I was almost forty minutes late.
I quickly stepped out of the car and hurried to meet my new landlord. The house was small, but I didn’t think I needed a big house anyway. No, this place was perfect for me. Cozy. The outside was painted a light blue, and there were white shutters on either side of each window. My eyes went to the front door and the beautiful porch, which was also painted white, leading to it.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I watched the front door start to open. I was nervous. Meeting anyone never appealed to me, and meeting a landlord seemed even more stressful.
The man that stepped out of the house was definitely not what I was expecting. I had never in my life seen someone so attractive. He must have been at least six foot five and…big. Broad shoulders fit snugly inside the material of his black dress shirt. Large arms and a wide chest tapered down into narrow hips hugged loosely by a pair of dark washed jeans.
Realizing where my eyes had roamed, I jerked my head up. Dammit, I was staring at his junk. I just stared at his junk. How could I just blatantly ogle him like that? Reluctantly, I met his gaze and found two dark brown eyes laughing at me.
So . . . pretty.
With a mental shake, I stepped forward to meet him halfway and extended a hand, like normal people do when they meet someone.
“Hello, Amelia. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, his voice suiting the rest of him.
Somehow, I doubted the statement. I wasn’t a nice person to meet on a good day. I supposed staring at his junk wasn’t the worst thing I could have done, though.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“I’m Brady. Ready to see the rest?”
My eyes widened, and I choked. Was he really offering? I couldn’t help but let my gaze drift, and a low chuckle came in response.
“The house?”
“Oh shit!” I threw a hand over my mouth. “I mean, yes, of course. The house.”
Brady chuckled again before taking my arm and leading me towards the steps.
I peeked around as excitement filled my chest. My first place. It was basic. Small living room, mismatched couches. Sun poured in through one large bay window, dust motes dancing within the rays, and the atmosphere was humid like it hadn’t been aired in quite a while.
To my left, a galley kitchen led to a small L shaped dining room, which made it seem even smaller, but I decided I loved it despite its size. It was mine. My place. New, fresh, and untainted.
“The bedrooms are back here,” Brady said, leading me through the little hall straight ahead of us.
I followed him, ducking my head into the first doorway, then the second right beside it. Both were bedrooms, and both were fully furnished with double beds, nightstands, dressers, and all.
“That one’s the master bedroom. It’s not much bigger but it has a walk-in closet,” Brady said, signifying the second doorway.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
“I’d have to agree.” He sounded huskier than before, and I turned to find him staring at me.
Abort mission.
“The bathroom?” I darted past him.
Brady followed, keeping a distance I was grateful for. Too intense.
With a quick peek into the small bathroom, I quickly darted towards the front door and escaped onto the porch. Maybe I was being paranoid because of everything that had happened the past couple days. I pretended to admire the other houses on the street until I could get myself under control. I needed to relax. Maybe I’d start meditating. It sounded like a pretty good idea to me. Meditating definitely couldn’t hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Brady said suddenly, drawing my attention.
I gave him the side-eye. He took another step forward and leaned against the porch railing. “I was staring. I apologize.”
My breath caught. He was staring? At me? Should I apologize for looking at his junk too? No. No, don’t do that. I laughed nervously.
“It’s okay.”
Brady smiled, and dammit, it made him even more attractive. How is he even possible? Men didn’t look like that. Not in real life.
“You’re probably going to need some time to unpack. Would you let me take you to dinner? That way you won’t have to worry about dishes, and all that…”
I cut him off. “Are you asking me out?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Maybe…Do you think that’s creepy? I swear I don’t usually ask my tenants out.”
“Then…why are you?” I stared at him.
Brady smiled that blinding smile once again. “You’re beautiful, Sweetheart.”
I melted. Holy shit. I’m a puddle. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked that a man as gorgeous as this wanted to take me out. I’d never actually been on a date before. Being the pariah in my high school hadn’t exactly done me any favors for my love life, or lack of one rather. There had only ever been one guy I liked, and that had gone horribly wrong before it had a chance to even begin.
I was fifteen. His name was Steven. He was in all of my classes at school, and although we never really spoke, he never made jokes or played pranks on me the way the other guys did.
So, when all the people in our grade were invited to Jessica Martin’s sweet sixteen birthday party, I was excited that Steven would be there.
I’d really tried that day: worn a dress, spent an hour on my make-up, trying to make it just right. I must have done okay, because when I got to the party, I felt everyone staring at me, and not for their usual reasons.
Guys that were typically dicks actually started being nice to me. I’d been so happy, so hopeful. I’d thought that maybe people were starting to forget. Maybe they’d finally move past the things they thought about me.
About halfway through the party, Jessica announced that we were all going to play seven minutes in heaven. She had us all write our names on a piece of paper, which was then placed into one of two hats: a baseball cap for the guys and an old cowboy hat for the girls. When it was done, we all found a place to sit on the living room floor.
Jessica stood in front of us all, a hat in each hand as she explained the rules of the game.
“Okay, everyone. This is how it works. I’ll draw one name out of each hat, and whoever’s name is drawn will spend seven minutes together in that closet.” She pointed to her right, to the large entryway closet.
I remember the foreboding, the sick feeling. For years I’d been avoiding closets like the plague. All of my clothes remained folded in dresser drawers. I kept nothing in there, and each night I’d place a chair under the doorknob just to be safe. I nervously looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed my reaction, but they all seemed too focused on Jessica.
I looked back up just as she was pulling the first name from the hat.
“Steven.” A chorus of obnoxious noises came from every guy within the room as they patted him on the back.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched Jessica begin to pull a name out of the other hat.
Please don’t pick me.
Please don’t pick me.
Please don’t pick me.
“Amelia,” she’d said, and the look on her face let me know she was loving every minute of it.
>
Unwilling to admit my fear, I’d stood and made my way over. I could hear the girls snickering, but it was quickly drowned out by the guys in the room.
Steven gave me a sympathetic smile and put an arm around my shoulder as we stepped inside. He closed the door behind us, then turned so he was facing me and sat Indian style on the floor.
I copied his actions, placing myself directly in front of him. Inside, I was a mess. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty, and it was all I could do not to panic.
“Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to do anything,” he’d reassured me.
I laughed. That was definitely not what I was worried about. His expression looked hurt for a moment as he misunderstood why I found humor in the statement.
“It’s not that…I…”
What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth. He’d never speak to me again. Or, worse, he’d become just like them. He’d know. I was the crazy girl, the girl who’s afraid that if she turned the lights off at night, a monster would come out of her closet and get her.
“What?” he asked.
“I really like you, Steven,” I said, quickly putting my head down to hide my burning cheeks. It had been the truth and way less embarrassing to admit.
His hand reached forward and caressed my cheek as he leaned closer. “I like you too,” he said, then before I could react, his lips met mine.
I remember how happy I was for that moment. For that small moment, someone liked me. For that moment, Steven wasn’t worried about what everyone said about me. He wasn’t concerned about my fears. That moment was the moment of my first kiss, and a moment later it all went wrong.
I glanced at the space behind Steve, and a pair of familiar red eyes stared back at me. They were the same glowing red orbs that filled my own closet, only different. This set of eyes held a rage that I couldn’t describe and had never seen before.
Steven jerked away as I began to scream, but I didn’t wait around to explain before almost taking the door out in my fight to escape.
“What the hell? What’s wrong?” Steven yelled, frantically looking behind him to find nothing there.
I looked around at the room full of people laughing at me. Tears stung my eyes, and white noise echoed inside my ears, like a dream.
Like a Nightmare.
The last thing I heard was Steven saying, “You were right man. That chick is crazy.”
I never talked to another boy after that. Until now.
A gorgeous man stood in front of me, patiently waiting for an answer. Was it weird to go on a date with my landlord?
“Don’t you think it might create a…conflict of interests?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
Brady grinned and took my hand. Tingles of electricity shot up my arm at the contact, and I had to fight not to shudder.
“I normally wouldn’t, but…well…I promise if you decide you don’t want to go out on a second date, I won’t make it weird.”
“Wouldn’t it just be weird? You wouldn’t really be able to make it not weird, would you?” Why am I arguing? Why am I still talking? Why haven’t I agreed yet?
This man was sin-on-a-stick. A sinsicle. I wasn’t going to find a box of him in the freezer section.
“Say yes, Amelia.”
“Yes.” Wait. What the fuck?
“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said, already walking away.
I watched him go, wondering why I’d just done that and found my answer in the view. “You can do this. It’s just a date,” I whispered to myself, not believing a word I said.
CHAPTER FOUR
A sense of paranoia and impending doom hung heavy around me throughout the day. I kept waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. People smiled through the hallways of my new school. No one whispered or gave me funny looks. The change helped boost my mood.
A new start.
Then there was entirely different stress to deal with. I had a date. An actual one. With a man. Why I’d agreed was beyond me. It was a terrible idea. I wasn’t ready to date, obviously. What if the monster did something? What if I freaked out? It’s not like I’d never see the guy again. I lived in his house.
My things were all still packed, so I didn’t spend too much time deciding what to wear. The first dress I found was black, clean, and didn’t have any stains. Lucky draw. The fact that it was black seemed fitting. Who knew? I may be in mourning by the end of the night anyway. The death of my love life, possibly my sobriety if any more weird shit happened.
I stared in the mirror at my plain face and debated the need for makeup. The last thing I wanted to do was apply a possessed product onto my skin, but stress wasn’t doing me any favors in the looks department.
I turned and grabbed my clutch from the bed, but the lipstick wasn’t inside it. I searched again, my breath already held, my chest already tight.
“No,” I whispered as I stood and slowly turned back around. The mirror that had been clear only a moment before now had the words Have A Nice Night written across its surface in my favorite cherry red.
The lipstick sat on the dresser, the cap was once again neatly placed beside it. I reread the message, then once more as my temper fizzled within my chest like a pot of boiling water. Fucking hell.
“I’m gonna have a great night!” I snapped, pointing at my own reflection like a madwoman. “Stick around! Maybe you’ll see how great later!”
A deep chuckle sounded from behind me, and I whipped around. Nobody was there. My bravery faltered, but the anger helped me to not run away screaming.
I turned back, and my heart lurched. A shadow, similar to a man, moved through the doorway. Against the better judgment of my inner voice, who screamed at me to not follow, I did. As quiet as I could, I trailed behind and rounded the corner only to find an empty living room.
I heaved a sigh. Why couldn’t I have one normal event in my life? Brady would be arriving any minute. Why now? Couldn’t the thing wait until later at least?
“I give up,” I said, walking back towards the bedroom to get my keys. Screw the date. I was getting the hell out of there.
My keys weren’t on the bed where I’d left them, so I searched the room, hoping and praying they hadn’t become a tool for the monster’s game.
I found them on the dresser, or more specifically, hanging off a piece of the mirror’s frame. The message had been replaced by a new one. Promises, Promises.
“What does that even mean?” I asked, staring at it as realization dawned. Stick around, and maybe you’ll see how great…
“That’s just fucking great!” I threw my arms up. “A Peeping Tom. My monster is a pervert.”
Another chuckle, this time from the doorway. When I looked over the apparition was standing there, a dark black mass with no features, only an outline. It raised its arm up and waved before turning and moving towards the living area. I swallowed hard and gaped at the now empty space.
“I’m gonna die.” Slowly, I moved forward and once again rounded the corner. This time, the room wasn’t empty. It stood there, just inside my front door, as if it’d been waiting. Then, the moment I had a chance to lay eyes on it, it drifted through the screen and out of sight.
The front door stood open, and the sun had fully made its descent, painting the world in darkness that I didn’t appreciate. Crickets chirped from their grassy homes, so content, unaware of how much their songs were making the atmosphere inside my living room more ominous.
I moved to press my back against the wall, ensuring nothing could sneak up on me, then stared at the open doorway. Seconds felt like minutes, then minutes felt like hours as I stood in that dark room, waiting for something I hoped would never come.
Then it did.
My lungs collapsed as it reappeared within the doorway. The screen door creaked as it was pulled open, slowly. My heart thundered, and my stomach rose up into my throat. In a panic, I flung the purse as hard as I could in its direction. I heard a grunt, t
hen watched as it doubled over in pain.
“What the hell was that?” I recognized Brady’s voice.
“Shit! I’m so sorry.” I rushed forward to help him up.
“What do you keep in this thing?” he asked, grabbing the bag from the floor and handing it to me.
I cringed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. It won’t happen again.”
“Promises, promises,” he said.
My mouth clamped shut at the words, and I watched him closely. “What?”
“You say it won’t happen again, but you seemed a little too good at that. I feel like you might make a habit of attacking poor defenseless men with your purse.” He pointed to my bag. “Don’t lie. You’ve got bricks in there, don’t cha’?”
I couldn’t help but smile as my suspicion evaporated. It was a common phrase. Don’t act crazy.
“You ready to go, slugger?” Brady asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got a reservation for eight-thirty.”
“Sure.” I let him lead me toward the door. “Where are we going?”
Brady smiled. “It’s a surprise.
***
The Dark Room lit the front of the otherwise blackened building in neon blue. Valet parking, red velvet ropes, and long lines kept waiting by extra-large bouncers. It seemed fancy.
Brady pulled up along the entryway, then got out and walked around to my side. He offered me a hand as I stepped out, then tossed the keys to the valet.
“Have you ever been here?” he asked. He’d been grinning throughout our whole conversation on the way over, and my hormones couldn’t take much more of it. I had no idea what half the shit we’d talked about was, but I could somehow tell exactly how each one of his dimples curved along his flawless face.
I needed to get myself together.
Brady’s hand touched the small of my back as he led us to the entrance. To my surprise, both of the gigantic men parted without so much as looking at us. I cut my eyes over to Brady questioningly, but he was too busy leading the way.