The funny thing is, I’d never thought of myself as a screamer. But it turns out, I am. And the scream that I let loose was ten times louder and more terrifying than the one that had frightened me in the first place.
Michael burst into my room, switched the lights on, and rushed to the bed, and putting his arms around me as he pulled me against his chest.
His very bare, very muscled chest.
“Are you all right?” He asked, his voice breathless. “What happened?”
I let him hold me, but my eyes searched the room my cheek pressed against his chest. “Someone was here,” I managed.
“In the room? You saw someone?” His grip on me tightened, and his voice had become steely.
I nodded against his shoulder, but as my panic began to recede, other things began to register. He smelled clean. And manly. A little like hay or grass, maybe. But good. Reassuring.
He held me tightly against him, his strong legs to one side of the bed as my heart rate descended. I could feel the beating of his heart against my cheek, and it was comforting.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah,” I managed.
“I should check the house. See if there’s anyone here.”
I nodded, though the idea of him wandering through the house if someone was really here was terrifying. “Okay.” I climbed out of bed and tugged down my nightshirt, unwilling to let him out of my sight, even if he was about to lead us both to our deaths. Better than sitting here alone, waiting for his screams to echo through the house.
I followed at his heels, creeping through every room in the old creaking house, flicking on lights and checking closets. And there was no one inside. No one but us. We even checked the creepy attic.
“Do you think maybe you dreamed it?” he asked.
I thought about that. “I had been almost asleep,” I said, accepting the glass of water he offered me as we stood in the kitchen. Michael stood next to the sink, completely disregarding the fact he wore nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants that rested quite low on his hips. I was trying to be just as nonchalant about the fact, but if I was honest, he had the nicest body I’d ever seen up close, all molded muscles and sinew. “But that scream pretty much woke me up.”
“Yeah, you screaming woke me right up too.”
“Not my scream.” I whacked him with the back of my hand, and it felt a little like hitting a cliff face—hard and unyielding. But warm. I pushed away thoughts of being in his embrace. I’d think about how nice that had been later. “That same horrible scream we’ve been hearing. The sage didn’t work at all.”
“Shocking.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t helping right now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He paused, his gaze dropping mine and finding the floor. “Listen, are you going to be okay to go back to bed? I mean—”
“Hey,” I said, putting some bravado into my voice that I definitely didn’t feel. “Of course. I’m a big girl.”
“You can sleep in my room again,” he offered. “If you want.”
I didn’t respond right away, but thought about how I’d feel knowing he was right there, versus trying to be comfortable in the bigger room alone, where I’d most definitely seen a set of eyes in the darkness. “Um. If you’re sure?”
“Of course,” he said. “We’ll get things sorted out tomorrow.”
I followed him upstairs, feeling a little sheepish about my own terror, and climbed into the sleeping bag I’d put back into his room when I’d brought in the Aerobed. “Thanks,” I said.
“It’s nothing, Addie,” he murmured.
And then I lay there in the dark for a long time, listening as his breathing turned even and deep. And finally, I slept.
15
Veggie Restoration
Michael
I woke to sunlight streaming through the dirty film that covered the windows of the bedroom. The filth gave the light a gauzy quality that seemed to float around the room, ethereal and insubstantial—like a ghost might be, if such things existed.
A shaft of light fell across the woman sleeping three feet away from me, her hair spilling across the white linen of the pillow and onto the floorboards surrounding her. Addison’s face was turned toward me, and in sleep she looked innocent and serene. When Addie was awake, she was beautiful, but when she was asleep, there was something in her expression—so unguarded and trusting—that made my heart twist inside my chest when I looked at her.
I lay for longer than I probably should have, resting on my side, my eyes wide open as I considered her. Mrs. Easter had said we were babies together—well, I would have been the baby. Addison was five years older than I was, not that any of that mattered now that we were adults. In the soft possibility of dawn, I searched for any memory of us as children, in this house maybe, but none came. And the realization made me sad, because I thought now that any time I got to spend with such a beautiful woman would be time I’d want to remember forever.
Quietly, I slipped out of my sleeping bag and to my feet, picking up my clothes from atop the old chest as I did so. The roofers would be starting early, and I’d need to wake Addison so I could head down to the store, at least for a bit, but for now I was going to let her sleep. It had been a rough night.
As I brushed my teeth, my mind kept creeping back to the previous night, to the fear and terror I’d felt when I’d heard Addison scream. I didn’t remember running to her room, or going to her bed. All I remembered now was holding her, pulling her against me and wrapping my arms tightly around her, fiercely. As if I could protect her from anything that threatened. As if she really needed me to. But in that moment, Addison Tanner had not seemed like the competent and decisive career woman I knew she was. She’d seemed vulnerable and scared, and while I knew there wasn’t much I could do for a woman like Addie who could certainly take care of herself, I knew I could at least use my size and strength to give her a fighting chance.
I laughed to myself. A fighting chance? Against what? There was nothing in this house except some really old plumbing and a lot of memories belonging to other people. I didn’t believe Addie had seen eyes in the darkness any more than I believed the witchy women who’d stunk up the place the previous day were actually banishing spirits. I pulled open the medicine cabinet, where I’d stashed my razor, and stared inside for a moment, not fully awake.
I reached for the razor on the top shelf, and my fingers brushed something against the back of the cabinet I hadn’t noticed before. Removing the razor, I peered inside. And reached in to remove a key. It was old and tarnished, but not ancient looking. Who would hide a key in a medicine cabinet? I might have, when Dan was small, I thought. But a key to what?
When I was downstairs, I slipped the old key onto my keychain and set about making coffee and muffins. Daniel had always loved chocolate chip, and while he wouldn’t be here until after school let out, he wasn’t picky about eating muffins that had been made hours before. It was my version of giving him an afternoon snack—one I had time to prepare, since he usually met me at the store in the afternoons during my week with him to help out.