by Jill Nolan
In the Shadows
By Jill Nolan
Copyright © 2019 Jill Schumann
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover art by Fiona Jayde Media
Author Picture by Mortensen Photography
First Edition
Warning: This book contains adult language, violence, and sexual content. For readers 18+.
For you, my love.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Title
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Playlist
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
"I'm not going in there," Allison says, arms crossed over her chest defiantly.
"Why not?" I ask.
"It looks creepy. I'll wait ‘til you turn the power on."
"It's not creepy," I say, exasperated. This is home sweet second home to me. I look lovingly at my grandparents' cabin, where I've had some of my best memories with my family. And yet I am more than thrilled that they're not here.
"There could be a serial killer hiding in there," she says.
"Oh, so you're just going to send me in to get killed while you're safe out here?"
"Absolutely," she says, a teasing smile on her face. "There's no sense in us both getting killed."
I narrow my eyes at her and suppress my smile. I guess I'm going in alone.
"Keegan?" Allison calls. I turn around, one foot on the steps that lead to the porch, watching her absent-mindedly pick at the dead ends in her caramel-highlighted hair that is always perfectly straight. "If I hear you getting murdered, I'll call 911, and hopefully they'll get here in time to save you."
"You are such a great friend," I say sarcastically. She is though. She's been one of my best friends for the past three years of college. I'm lucky we can room together for the summer, having gotten the same internship headed by one of our Biology professors.
I hop up the four steps, getting my keys out as I approach the red front door. It's a beautiful day, bright and sunny with a nice breeze. I inhale the fresh country air. Perfect. It's perfect here.
As soon as I step inside, a blanket of darkness descends over my eyes, and the breeze is nonexistent. I automatically flip the light switch, surprised for a moment when nothing happens. I need to turn the breaker on first. Right.
I stand there for a minute, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark room, while straining to make out my surroundings. I know I'm in the family room, but I'm barely able to make out the couches to the right or the dining table to the left. The curtains are closed tight over all the windows; the only light is coming from the open door I'm standing in, and it doesn't reach very far.
Alright, maybe this is a little creepy. Allison put that stupid serial killer idea in my head, and we are in a very secluded area of Wisconsin Dells. No one to hear you scream. Well, maybe the neighbor across the street could, if he ever visited the place.
My family was just here last weekend, but what if someone has since broken in? I think back to the story my grandpa told me about a guy who used to break into cabins in this area twenty years earlier and kill whomever he found. My gut tightens in uneasiness.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the stale air, trying to convince myself that there's no reason to be afraid. I rarely listen to my own advice, though, and hellish scenarios fly through my mind about what could be lurking in the dark recesses of the cabin. Most of them are completely unrealistic.
I find myself straining to hear something other than silence. Shouldn’t there at least be birds cheerfully chirping away? I suppose I’ve never noticed that many birds around here before. Maybe we need a bird feeder to attract them.
I’ll have to figure out this bird deficiency later. First, I need light. Heart pounding, I yank open the closest curtains, half expecting to be attacked as soon as I turned my back on the darkness. I know I'm just freaking myself out, but now that I am freaked out, I'd feel a lot better with a weapon. I walk over to the fireplace and snag the fire poker.
I continue opening curtains, my unease diminishing with the shadows. Unfortunately for me, the utility closet that the breakers are in just happens to be down a windowless hallway.
I throw my long, auburn hair up in a messy bun. Wielding my fire poker in one hand and my phone flashlight in the other, I walk down the dark hallway. I fumble with the door knob, just barely managing to open the door while still holding onto my weapon.
I pull open the door, bringing my light up. A figure comes into focus, and all of a sudden, a red-faced demon is flying at me.
My body reacts before my mind, vocalizing my terror in a gut-wrenching scream as I slam the door and run outside.
Allison screams with me.
"What happened?" she half yells when I stop screaming.
I try to catch my breath, thinking back on what I actually saw. That face. The face of nightmares. The red skin, the sharp, inhuman fangs, the horns.
"There was a demon in the utility room."
"What?"
"It was a Halloween decoration or something."
"Then why are you screaming bloody murder?"
"Because I didn't know that at first! It literally flew at me!"
I let the warmth of the sun ebb away my fear, as Allison starts laughing. I glare at her, watching her enjoy herself at my expense. I wait for her to stop, but she just starts laughing harder, until I break down and laugh with her.
When our laughter dies down and my mind begins to function again, I force myself to go back to the room with the demon. It’s the last thing in the world I want to see again, but I know Allison isn't up to the task; she'd freak out over all the spiders in that room. Not that I'm not afraid of spiders, but at least I can function around them.
I grab my fire poker from the floor where I had dropped it on my way out the door. So much for my self-defense skills. I guess my flight reaction took over.
I open the door and reluctantly stand face-to-face with my new worst nightmare. Something about its eyes makes it look alive. I shiver. I know it’s fake… I mean, it only has half a body. But I’m still half-convinced that it could come alive and attack me and suck my soul out or something.
Ugh, it’s so frickin’ c
reepy, just hanging there, swaying. Why is it swaying, anyway? Is there some kind of draft in here? And how did it come flying at me before? I look a little closer and see that it was rigged to come forward when the door was opened. My brothers must have hung this up for me to find. They're so dead. Payback will be a bitch, and that bitch will be me.
I skirt around the demon, never taking my eyes off of it, keeping the fire poker up in front of me to block any resident spider webs from touching me. I flip the breaker, nervous at having my back to that creepy thing, and then I get the hell out of there, closing the door behind me and wishing it had a lock on it.
I turn on all the lights, and only then does Allison finally make her way inside.
"Did you check all the rooms to make sure no one is here?"
"Yes," I lie. I don't know if my brothers hid things in other rooms, and I don't want to be the only one falling into their traps. Also, the basement is like a dirty dark cave. No one willingly goes down there. "C'mon. Our rooms are upstairs."
I show her to her room, then drop my stuff off in the room I normally claim down the hall. Both rooms are pretty similar with a queen bed, nightstands, dresser, trunk, and closet. Mom doesn't let us keep much in the rooms since other family and friends stay here, but I'm allowed to keep some of my stuff in the trunk, like worn out shoes, extra socks, and a few old outfits.
"You get a balcony?" Allison asks enviously. That's the main difference between the rooms, and why I like this one so much.
"Yep, and you get my parents' room."
"What? No! That's weird."
"Just don't think about how my dad sleeps in his tightie whities."
"Eww, stop. Are there any other rooms?"
"Relax. My parents actually sleep in a room downstairs. And anyway, my mom said she changed all the sheets before they left last weekend."
"Did your dad kill all the spiders like he said he would?"
"Yeah, he did. Just don't go in the basement."
Chapter 2
I look up at the big artsy sign that says “Zí Café”. I’ve never been here before, though it's been here for the past few years. The inside is fairly small, the room much longer than it is wide. Each table is different, with twice as much variety in the chairs. All the furniture is wood, but in different shades and heights and styles. There are a few benches with pillows and even some couches. It’s very cozy and cute, and I immediately decide that I like this place.
Allison and I claim an open couch by the window, throwing our stuff down. The first day of our internship was exhausting, and all I want to do is sit down and never get up. Unfortunately, this is an order-at-the-counter kind of place.
There is one family ahead of us in line, and the rest of the place is about half full. Not too crowded, but not desolate either.
I distractedly play with the end of my still-wet braid, impatient with the slow ass family in front of us. I pull a detached hair from the end and discreetly let it fall to the floor. I try to distract myself by studying the bakery goods, since I already know I want a turkey sandwich for dinner.
When it's our turn, an accented guy about our age takes our order. He’s decent-looking with dark shaggy hair. His accent is nice to listen to, but I can’t tell where it’s from. He tells us to wait to the side while he gets my cake and Allison's coffee drink.
Another guy comes from the back to help out.
Wow. Now he is hot.
He’s more than a few inches taller than me with stylish dark hair and an angular face. We lock eyes, and he gives me a small but meaningful smile. His blue eyes are so piercing. I smile and look away.
As the hot one hands me my cake, he holds onto it a few extra moments, just staring into my eyes. I may as well be trying to stare at the sun: I can’t look at him for more than a second, and I’m probably making the same dumbass face.
As I walk back to our table, I wonder why it was so hard to maintain eye contact with him. I normally don't fluster quite that easily. Probably something to do with the look in his eyes.
I pull my sweater on; like most places, they have the AC cranked all the way up.
"You do realize it's summer outside," Allison sasses.
"It feels like winter in here. It's not my fault that my body can't regulate its own temperature." I stare at my cake, wondering if I should eat the whole thing now. I’m about to eat someone, I’m so hungry. Apparently, working in the woods all day has brought out cannibalistic tendencies. I decide to compromise, and limit myself to two bites.
"I'm still hot from our slave labor in the goddamn woods today," she says, referring to the fact that we aren't getting paid for an internship we're required to complete in order to graduate next year. "And I can't believe we have to wear long sleeves while working. Pure torture," she continues dramatically.
"Better than scratching your arms up while pulling all those plants. I'm going to be so sore tomorrow."
"Don't even get me started on that. Those were not plants; they were small trees. I didn't know I was signing up to clear the forest."
"Who knew invasive species would be so...invasive." I smirk at her, while she just gives me the stink eye.
"Shut up," she says. "I thought we were just supposed to be learning about the ecosystems around the river and collecting samples."
"You didn't read the whole handout, did you? We have to clear as much of the invasive species as we can to protect the native plant life and that rare cliff plant. I was at least hoping we would be learning more about the area for the first day."
"Lame. At least the burning part was fun."
"I know, right?" I open my mouth to continue when I spot the hot guy coming this way with our sandwiches.
"Thanks," I say.
"Thank you," Allison says, extra cheerful.
"You're welcome." He says it deliberately, not in passing like most people do. He looks at both of us, but his eyes linger on mine with that penetrating gaze, making me feel desired. I smile, flattered at the attention.
After he walks away, Allison turns and gives me a devilish smile, wagging her eyebrows.
We don’t talk much, being too busy scarfing down our food. It’s really good. I think. I don’t know if it’s actually really good, or if I’m just so hungry that anything I ate would taste like this.
I can tell he is looking at me a lot as we talk and eat. I consciously have to tell myself to only sneak glances once and a while. We’ve locked eyes a few times, and my internal smile keeps trying to creep onto my face. He’s definitely giving me “I want you” eyes. I say this in my head in my deep sexy man voice, and I almost laugh out loud.
I think I’m giving him the “I’m interested” eyes back, but who knows.
I admire his hair, cut and gelled stylishly. And that V-neck shirt he’s wearing is tight enough to highlight his sculpted biceps and lean body underneath.
Allison turns around to see what I'm looking at...which is the hot guy. "Have you been staring at him this whole time?" she asks.
"No! If anything, he's been staring at me. I've just been glancing occasionally in his general direction. His eyebrows are kind of big, huh?"
"Big eyebrows are in."
"I don't understand how a facial feature can be in. Anyway, he's been mostly staring at me, giving me sex eyes or something."
I’ve never had anyone look at me that intensely. Maybe it’s a European thing. He sounded like he was Eastern European. I think I’m used to college sex eyes, which are essentially drunk eyes. I’ve also gotten a number of old man sex eyes, which are just so creepy and intrusive (Sir, would you please stop undressing me in your mind?).
Do sex eyes mean he just wants to bang and then that’s it? Or does that mean he wants to bang me but also date me? I don't really want to date him or anyone right now. I'm not sure I want to bang him either.
"He's so hot," Allison says. "He'd be a great summer hook up for you. He looks like he'd be into some kinky shit."
"And you think I'd be into that?"<
br />
"I don't know, Keegan. Maybe you just haven't discovered the kinkier side of life yet. Or you're holding out on me. Are you holding out on me?"
"Never." She knows about my experiences with guys, which doesn't involve anything remotely adventurous. I mean, I've only slept with two guys, both longish term boyfriends. And I've fooled around with a few more than that. "There's different kinds of kink. I might like being tied up, but I sure as hell don't want to be whipped or spanked or any of that nonsense."
"Me either," she says. "I'm a baby when it comes to pain."
"Yeah, I know." She gives me the stink eye. "Can you tell where he's from?"
"Europe."
"Helpful."
"Why don't you ask him when he's tying you up?"
I shake my head at her and pop another fry in my mouth, but not before a glob of ketchup falls on my shirt.