by Adam Kunz
Why the hell am I not wearing socks? It’s, like, ten degrees outside.
Moving over to my duffel bag, I draw out a pair of comfy wool socks and slide them on. My throat and mouth seem to be getting drier by the second, so I decide to head downstairs for a cup of water.
As I slip out of the room, I immediately look over at Jared’s closed bedroom door. Flashes of our intimate time together fill my mind, and then I sigh after reliving the end of it. Shaking my head, I turn away and try to push it out of my mind.
I attempt to be stealthy on my way to the stairs, but the floor decides to make noise with every step I take. No matter how careful I try to move, the old wood isn’t letting me go quietly. The house is so silent and still that it makes me sound like I’m stomping around on purpose.
Reaching out to take hold of the bannister, I stabilize myself while heading downstairs. When I get to the bottom step, I stop dead in my tracks as I’m hit by a strange feeling. It’s probably just the house, but I feel this uneasiness come over me. Paranoia begins to fill me as my mind registers a similar feeling I had the night of my attack when I felt like I was being watched. I take caution as I continue making my way down the stairs, with all senses on high alert.
When I enter the kitchen, I immediately flip on the light switch to illuminate the space and eliminate any places where someone could be hiding in the dark. Moving to the pantry, where I remember Jared putting the bag of extra Solo cups, I turn the door’s knob with some hesitation before pulling it open inch by inch while trying to catch sight of anything or anyone that might be hiding inside.
“What the hell am I doing?” I ask myself as I stare into the mostly bare pantry.
Swiping a cup from the package, I head over to the sink. At first when I turn on the faucet, no water comes out and an odd noise, like pipes rattling, sounds from underneath it. I turn off the faucet and then turn it back on. The noise sounds again, but this time water begins to flow from the nozzle. Bringing the cup to rest under the running tap, my gaze drifts out the window toward the light above the barn’s door. I squint to see clearer when I think I see a shadow next to the barn, just barely outside the light’s reach.
“What is that?” I whisper.
The shadow moves to the side, closer to the light, and I can see it’s actually a person’s silhouette. The figure continues to move farther into the well-lit area in front of the barn, and the first thing I notice is the light shining through the black fur lining on the hood of a winter coat. It looks like the one Robbie wore the night of my attack.
Not again!
I clench my eyes tight as I begin shaking my head and counting to five. This is what I get for not taking my pills.
“You’re not there. You’re not there. Robbie, you’re not there,” I repeat to myself. I begin to hyperventilate and can’t seem to catch my breath, like someone’s choking me. In a split moment of clarity, I open my eyes and look toward the barn to see no one’s there.
My eyes pan over to the lone tree just outside the window and a shocked gasp escapes my mouth at the sight before me. A large red ribbon is tied in a bow around its trunk, the tails thrashing about in the wind.
“Laney?” Nia whispers, startling me. I turn to face her, and by the look on her face, I must look absolutely terrified. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. Turning back to the tree, I see the red ribbon has vanished.
You seriously need to get over this shit, Laney!
“Laney, you’re beginning to freak me out. Speak to me, I need to know if something’s wrong,” she says, joining me by the window. I notice she’s trying to figure out what I’m looking at. “What’s out there?”
“Nothing. I just spooked myself while getting a cup of water. I’m heading back to bed soon, promise,” I reply, sending her a forced half-smile.
“Don’t make me worry about you, okay?”
“No worries. I’m good, just needed some water,” I lie, but I don’t want to make her any more concerned than she already is. After giving me a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead, she heads back toward the stairs.
My eyes pan back to the snowy scene out the window as I take a huge drink of water. The cool liquid travels down my throat, soothing the scratchiness. The only things I see are the snow, the barn, and the tree - nothing out of the ordinary. Shaking my head, I put the cup back under the faucet to refill it. I back away from the sink and retreat to my room for some much-needed medication.
“Crap. I’ve overslept,” I groan while sitting up in bed after taking a peek at the clock.
It’s two o’clock in the afternoon already?
I anticipate having about an hour of medicated grogginess and haze to wade through before I can fully operate like a normal human being. Usually having a warm shower speeds up the process, so I resolve to take one. Removing my clothes, I slip on my bathrobe and toss all of the shower essentials into the bathroom caddy I brought along with me.
As I open the door to step outside the room, a piece of paper taped to it flaps toward my face and catches my eye. The letter reads:
We all went into town to shop for tonight’s party supplies. Didn’t want to wake you, thought you could use the rest.
Hugs,
Nia
“Great, I’m the pariah of the weekend,” I murmur.
Feeling lower now than I did when I woke up, I trudge toward the bathroom. The water takes forever to warm up, and I spend most of the shower huddled in the corner of the tub, waiting for a change in temperature. When I was younger, I’d have to leave the curtain open because I was worried about the strange shadows that danced around the bathroom and would cast against the fabric. Thankfully, I’ve grown out of that phase, but I can’t help but feel a little tense about being in this house all by myself.
The ringing of the doorbell makes me almost leap out of my skin.
Who’d be ringing the doorbell?
I reach out for the towel draped over the rack to my left and begin to dry off. Pulling on my robe, I exit the bathroom and start heading toward the stairs, all the while keeping the front door in my sights. The doorbell rings again the moment I take my first step down the stairs. Instead of saying, “Who’s there?” I decide to sneak up to the peephole in the door and peer through it. I can’t see anyone outside when I do though.
I let out a small fretful whimper. “Who’s there?” I ask, but there’s no answer. “Hello?”
When there’s still no response, I back away from the door and instinctively pat my robe for my cell phone, but of course I don’t have it with me. Why would I? I’m in my freaking bathrobe.
Damn.
I hear a sound coming from outside near the big window in the kitchen. My eyes dart around the foyer looking for something I can use to defend myself, if in fact someone’s trying to break in. Spotting an umbrella in the stand next to the front door, I grab it. Hesitating to move forward, I draw in a deep breath and take a step in the direction of where the sound resonated.
Making my way through the kitchen, I hear the noise again, but this time it seems to be originating from the little hallway between the dining room and this one. I round the corner into the hall and see a person-shaped shadow being cast on the floral-print curtain that covers the door’s window.
My thumping heartbeat rings throughout my ears. I grip the umbrella’s handle tighter the closer I get to the door, and I can feel my pulse through my palms. Trying not to make a sound, I keep my focus solely on the person trying to open the door. I can hear them fiddling with the lock. I wrench my hands around the umbrella trying to get a better grip, but the moisture on my palms makes it hard to do so.
After the lock sounds like it disengages, I see the handle begin to turn. I want to run away, but for some reason, I’m frozen here right in front of the door, waiting for the person to come through. Maybe I feel empowered with the umbrella in my hands, but really, it’s just a damn umbrella and they could have a gun.
As the door squ
eaks open, I can’t see the person’s face because the setting sun is creating a lit outline around their body, shadowing their front side. I release a forceful yell while swinging the umbrella in the person’s direction. They shout, clearly startled, and block the umbrella with their left hand. I go to swing again, but stop suddenly when his face comes into view.
“Brent?” I ask, surprised to see him standing there.
“Shit, that hurt,” I hear him moan. He looks up at me after examining the damage to his hand. “Laney? Why the hell did you hit me? And what the hell are you doing here?”
I can’t decide whether to hug him or hit him again for scaring the crap out of me. “I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, loosening my grip on the umbrella’s handle, and finally able to take in the calming breaths I desperately need.
“My parents own Crystal Ridge. They sent me out here to check up on the new tenants,” he explains. “Sorry if I scared you. I tried knocking, but no one answered.”
“I was in the shower,” I say, gesturing to my bathrobe. I see his eyes studying my body, and when I catch him in the act, he abruptly turns his focus back to my face. “Why didn’t you just come through the front door?”
He laughs. “I was going to, but then realized I forgot the main house key at my parent’s place. I remembered there was a spare key stashed above the side door, which is why I came through this one.”
“I’m sorry I hit you.” I take a hold of the assaulted hand and look it over. It’s red and a little swollen, but he doesn’t seem to mind me touching it, so it can’t hurt that bad. A small giggle seeps out. “I think you’re going to survive.”
“Yeah, it’s only a flesh wound.”
“Well, this was not at all how I imagined us bumping into each other again,” I say, heading into the kitchen to get some ice for his hand with him following closely behind.
“You thought about us bumping into each other?” He leans up against the refrigerator while I scrape up a few pieces of ice from the freezer and place them into a napkin. “I figured you’d never want to see me again after what happened. At least, that’s how you made me feel after our last conversation.”
Thinking back to when I walked away from Brent, I remember it like it was yesterday. He felt horrible about what happened to me in his house, especially since I was covering for him and watching his brother. The guilt ate him up, but after the attack I didn’t want anything to do with him. Actually, for a while there I was distant with everyone around me. It was a part of my coping mechanism. I pushed everyone away, but I think Brent got it the worst. I blamed him for everything, but I was an immature teenager who couldn’t understand it was no one’s fault other than that sick fuck, Robbie Jameson. It took me a year and a half of therapy to finally reach that conclusion.
My eyes rise to his and I instinctively begin biting my lip, not knowing how to express how truly sorry I am for how I treated him. “I know I handled our goodbye horribly, Brent. And I’m so sorry for that,” I say, giving him the ice for his hand.
“You don’t have to apologize, Laney. It’s all in the past now.”
“Yeah, I do.” I take a moment and admire his half-smile from my response before continuing. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you for a while now. It was one of my goals in therapy ... to make amends for past mistakes,” I explain while moving closer to him.
“Then consider your apology accepted,” he says, his beautiful hazel eyes boring into mine. “I’ve wanted to talk with you too, but I felt I had said everything I wanted to before you left for college. And when that blew up in my face, my pride took quite a hit.”
He had saved up a good chunk of his busboy money to buy me the perfect Christmas gift, a heart-shaped locket. His plan was to give it to me and then ask me to go to prom with him. During the time I was watching his brother, he was having it engraved, which was why he felt even worse about the whole situation. He tried to give me the locket at our graduation since Christmas had fallen through, and I had been avoiding him up to that point. It was his last-ditch effort to make things right between us, but all that happened was me tossing the locket back in his face and telling him I never wanted to see him again.
“Well, I should probably get going. It seems like everything’s fine here, and you’re all settled in,” he states, pushing himself away from the refrigerator. “Thanks for the ice.”
I can’t help but want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze tight. I was stupid for not taking that locket. It was such a wonderful gesture, but my stupid teenage-self got in the way. He was my first love, and I can’t believe I couldn’t forgive him after all we had been through. I’ve never had a relationship with anyone like I had with him, and now after seeing him again, I realize I’ve seriously missed that.
Maybe he came into my mind last night while kissing Jared for a reason.
“Hey, Brent?”
He stops moving away and turns around. “Yeah?”
I walk up to him and throw my arms around his shoulders, bringing him in for a hug. It’s nice to be able to touch him again. I feel him hesitate, but then he fully embraces me with both his hands firmly planted at the middle of my back.
“I know I just said it, but I really am so sorry for how I treated you,” I whisper into his ear.
He releases a small laugh. “And I told you I forgive you,” he says and I can feel him smile, his cheek flexing next to mine.
“I know, but it’s me who wants to say I forgive you. You weren’t to blame for what happened. You have every reason to never want to talk to me again, but I want to make things right between us,” I explain, squeezing him harder.
I hear someone clear their throat behind me. Spinning around, I see Jared standing there with a large brown paper grocery bag in his arms. The look on his face is one of surprise, but his clenched jaw makes me believe there might be some agitation there as well. Nia and Emma come up right behind him and join in on the staring party.
“Are we interrupting something?” Nia asks while placing her bags on the kitchen counter, never taking her eyes off of us. It dawns on me that my hair is still damp, and I’m in my bathrobe while hugging a guy.
This probably doesn’t look too good.
“Uh, wait, this isn’t what it looks like,” I blurt out.
“We’re not judging,” Emma comments, setting her bags next to Nia’s on the counter.
“This is Brent. We’ve been friends forever. It turns out his family owns these rentals. I had no idea he was out here,” I ramble in a flustered manner, and even though I’m telling the truth, Jared, nor the girls, look convinced.
Jared puts his bag onto the island and then extends his hand out for Brent’s. “Nice to meet you.” After shaking hands, he says, “I’m going to go help the guys bring in the rest of the stuff.” He flashes me a puzzled look before leaving the kitchen.
“I think that’s my cue to head out as well,” Brent says. “Do any of you have questions about the place before I go?”
“Nope, I think we’re five by five,” Nia answers with a mischievous grin that would give the Cheshire Cat a run for his money. “Hey, you should come to our little soirée tonight. We have peppermint schnapps.” Nia puts emphasis on the word schnapps as she waves the bottle around.
Brent looks at me as if for permission.
“Yeah, you should come. It’ll be great,” I say, smiling at him. He returns it.
“Sure, sounds fun. Want me to bring anything?”
“Just your sexy ass self,” Nia chimes in, causing Emma to agree with a giggle.
“Ignore her. She’s just playing around,” I tell him when I see his face flush red with embarrassment. “See you tonight then?”
“Yeah, looking forward to it.”
Damn, I’ve missed that face of his.
“Me too.”
“Nice to meet you, ladies,” he calls out to Emma and Nia. They wave to him and I notice both of them checking out his perfectly firm ass in the tight country boy
jeans he’s wearing.
“Where the hell have you been hiding him?” Nia asks once we hear the side door close.
“It’s a long story. I really don’t want to get into it,” I reply.
“I bet it is a long story. He definitely gives Jared a run for his money in the looks department. Dayum. And if those pants are any indication, he’s packing some serious man meat,” she laughs. I roll my eyes while shaking my head.
“Oh, FYI, don’t mention Trevor around Colton,” Emma states.
I frown. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”
“Apparently the last time he heard from him was last night before bed, but it’s been radio silence since then. And his phone goes straight to voicemail every time Colton calls. Trevor was supposed to be here by noon today. He’s really upset about it, so we need to have a girls’ intervention and keep his mind occupied with copious amounts of alcohol and junk food,” Nia explains.
“Poor Colton. And he was looking forward to this so much too,” I say in a somber tone while taking two six packs of beer to the fridge. “Guys can be such jerks sometimes.”
“Amen to that,” Nia pipes up.
“Shhh, here come the boys,” Emma says quickly, putting an end to the conversation.
“The party has arrived,” Noah announces, entering the kitchen with Tee and Jared right on his heels. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me in only my bathrobe. “Apparently the party was here all along.” My eyes roll in an exaggerated motion at his comment.
“Really, Noah?” Emma chastises.
He laughs it off and shrugs his shoulders. “What?” he asks her in an innocent tone, causing her to shake her head while flashing him a playful glare.
“Maybe I should go slip into something a little less ... exposing,” I say, pulling the halves of the robe around me tighter.