“Oh no. Maybe another time.”
I perk up. “Definitely.”
“Tell Drew I’ll speak to him in the week and that I’m okay with him not staying overnight after the rehearsal dinner.”
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes and I step back inside, finding Drew holding Katnip, who is purring against his hair. He spots me and puts her down on the floor. His lips twitch as he takes my phone. “Is she going to the strip club?”
“Yes.”
His brows pinch together. “You okay?”
I hand him his phone. “She said to tell you she’s okay with you not staying overnight after the rehearsal dinner,” I relay to him. “How come you changed plans? If this is because of me, and the fight at the charity event, please, don’t. I don’t want to cause drama between you and your family. I can stay at home; it’s not a problem.”
He pulls me against his chest. My hands go flat over his hard pecs and I bend my neck right back to look up at him.
“This isn’t about that. Mum is on a rampage over Eloise. I’m not sure what’s gotten into her but she’s taken her side and I’m done with it. She might not ruin the rehearsal dinner or the actual wedding by causing a scene but I know my mother. Nothing will stop her after the events are over, and I’m done listening to it.”
My chest tightens. “I’m so sorry, Drew. Have you explained your side of the story?”
He shrugs. “I don’t need to. Apparently, they already filled her in on my part and they picked it apart, saying I’m lying and in denial.”
“Oh no,” I whisper, hurt on his behalf.
“So yeah, that’s why I don’t want to stay over. Although it wouldn’t ruin the actual event, it would ruin Alison’s day and I don’t want that. We still have three weeks left until then so hopefully things change.”
Noticing for the first time that he’s dressed, I ask, “Are you going into work?”
“I am. What about you?”
“Me too. I have tons of stuff to catch up on and I have a birthday party coming in later.”
“A birthday party at a library?”
I chuckle, having seen this reaction before. “Yes. I have the space. It’s cheap. And the kids love having Disney characters dressed up coming to see them.”
“You dress up, don’t you?” he guesses.
I grin. “All the time, but not today. Today I’m short staffed and have hired other people to come in. The kids love it.”
“Have you had breakfast?”
I nod. “I had some marshmallows earlier.”
He swivels his head to the side at the empty bag of chocolate covered marshmallows. “You ate the whole bag, didn’t you?”
I pout. “I really did.”
A smile teases his lips. “And you have no regrets.”
“None whatsoever,” I reply truthfully, grinning. “Are we still doing self-defence this week?”
“Of course,” he answers. “Grab your stuff and I’ll walk you to work before I leave.”
“Ah, ever the gentlemen.”
He slaps my arse, causing me to giggle. “You bet your arse. Now get moving before Landon tears me a new arsehole for making him open on his own again.”
“Let me grab my bag and shoes,” I tell him, moving down the hallway to grab them. I pull open my shoe rack, grabbing my pumps. Katnip takes the opportunity to jump out from her hidey spot on the shelf above and I squeal. I only have a second to react before she can latch onto my face. I grab her, clutching her to my chest, and relax when her claws dig into my chest. It’s always better than my face.
Drew comes racing out of the kitchen, takes one look at Katnip, and sighs.
“What? It’s a work in progress.”
He chuckles, taking her from me. He holds her up until their gazes meet. “You, cat, need to be nicer to your mother,” he scolds.
I finish sliding on my shoes before grabbing my bag. “You ready?”
He reaches for his keys off the side and nods. “Let’s go.”
We head out and I lock up behind us. I fiddle with the strap of my bag. “So um, are you, um, coming over later?”
He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his chest. “I’ll come over after I’ve finished work and take you out for dinner.”
The tightness in my chest eases. “I’d love that.”
I unlock the door to the library and stop, turning to him. “Thank you for staying with me last night.”
His eyes heat. “Oh, it was my pleasure.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, and lifts my feet off the ground. I smile, leaning up to press my lips against his. He kisses me back, his lips soft, moving slow and gentle, and after one last flick of his tongue, he reluctantly pulls away, sliding me down his body until my feet meet the ground.
“I’m going to miss you,” I blurt out, inwardly groaning at my running mouth.
“I’ll miss you too. If I do get a chance, I’ll bring some lunch for you. Keep you company. I’ll message you.”
“I’d love that.”
He presses another kiss to my lips before putting space between us. I like that. That he needs to, to stop himself from touching me.
“Later,” he drawls.
“Bye.”
With a dopey smile on my face, I push through the library door, locking the main one onto the latch to keep it open before pushing through the second doors. These are the ones we couldn’t lock last night due to the keys going missing.
I hit the alarm code and step inside, flicking on the lights.
Nothing.
I do it again, my brows pulling together. Again, the lights don’t even give off as much as a buzz.
Which is strange since I have them looked at for insurance purposes every year.
A strong feeling of impending doom hits me square in the chest. I stagger backwards, my heart racing as a sliver of fear races down my spine.
Scanning the library, I try to find the source of my fear. I can’t pinpoint what is out of place.
The hairs stand on end on the back of my neck and arms. I’m not sure how I know, but I have this sinking feeling I’m not alone in the library.
“Hello?” I call out, groaning as I slap my forehead. “Yes, because a mass murderer is going to pop out and say hi.”
Still, there is no sound, no movement, which feels even worse than if there had been. It’s eerily quiet.
The library doesn’t feel right. It isn’t because the light isn’t as bright without the main lights on. It isn’t the smell, which for some reason smells earthy and of mould.
I can’t place it. I take another step back but then, as the clouds clear outside, a stream of light shines through the window, landing on the cause of my anxiety.
I scream.
I scream so loud my throat hurts.
I will my feet to take me outside, but I can’t move. I struggle to catch my breath each time I scream, the sound scratching at my windpipe and leaving it raw.
Scott.
Pale, motionless, and eyes still open and blank, he’s propped up against the bookshelf, facing the doorway. Ghostly, with shrunken cheeks. I shriek even louder.
Dried blood coats the side of his face and hair and even though the wound has long healed, the side of his skull looks crushed in.