Vacancy, page 34
“She was still alive when I found her.”
“Oh God.”
“He’d stripped her naked and raped her, then cut her from sternum to pubic bone, straight down the middle. Plus, he slit her wrists, her throat, and ankles…like some kind of lab experiment, like he was dissecting a…frog…or something.”
I shook my head and clapped a hand over my mouth as tears filled my eyes.
“Her eyes were open, but I don’t think she could see anything anymore. She wasn’t able to speak either. All she did was gasp out this wheezing sound, and then… She died before I could even turn back around and get help.”
“Holy shit, Damien,” I breathed. “So that was probably the killer, escaping out the roof exit that you heard. Fucking hell, you’re lucky he didn’t go after you too.”
“Probably,” he admitted in a lifeless voice. “Didn’t feel very lucky back then, though.”
“I can only imagine,” I admitted pathetically. “I am so sorry. How the hell are you able to go near this place?”
“Oh, I didn’t for the longest time,” he admitted openly. “I couldn’t. But joining the grief group helped. It was honest-to-God the best thing I ever did. It introduced me to my core group, and now I have friends I know I can trust with anything. Plus, I can talk about Thalia and remember good things about her. I only wish I could figure out who did it. And why.”
I bit my lip, and my gut burned with the need to help him figure it out too.
“Maybe this Josh person will lead us to some answers,” he said.
And I nodded immediately. “Yeah. Hopefully.”
“I used to be consumed with wanting to find him,” he admitted. “I read all the serial killer books, made one of those evidence boards with pictures and string on it. The remains of it are still under my bed. And I called the police department weekly, then once every few months after they turned it into a cold case. My friends made me get into running so I’d have another hobby, but nothing was as important to me as getting my sister some justice.”
“What finally made the obsession stop?” I asked because I certainly hadn’t seen this preoccupied side of him.
“It was the strangest thing,” he answered. “I was running one morning and came to her brownstone where I always turned around, but when I glanced over, I saw a face in the window that shouldn’t have been there.”
Realizing he was talking about me, I exhaled slowly.
“You were the first person who could’ve helped me get some real answers, and all I had to do was just ask you for help. But instead, I found myself wanting to enjoy simply being around you. I started to forget about Thalia for longer stretches of time, and instead of being so eaten up with needing to find her killer, I wanted to just focus on living life and getting to see you again.”
“Oh, Damien,” I mumbled sadly.
“I know,” he agreed. “Being too afraid to tell you the truth fucked me over, but… You gave me a new purpose and taught me there was more to life. I think I really needed that. So I want to thank you. Just… Thank you for showing me that I actually want more than just justice. Thank you for everything. Despite all the regrets I’m having right now, getting to be with you for the time I did is not one of them.”
From the point on, I burst into tears like a leaky faucet.
After crying my way to sleep, I woke the next morning with Damien still on my mind.
I turned toward my bed stand and reached for my phone. The line remained open, and I could hear Damien’s heavy, even breathing on the other end.
I smiled, honored that he’d kept his word and hadn’t hung up on me.
“Good morning, Damien,” I whispered. And when that had absolutely no effect on him at all, I whispered, “I love you.” Because after last night, there was no stopping me from loving him. He was the undeniable axis of this new world in which I now rotated.
Then I quickly disconnected the line before I actually woke him up.
After showering and changing for the day, I went down to make myself some breakfast, knocking on Thalia’s door as I passed.
“Morning, roomie. Rise and shine.”
But she didn’t answer.
I hadn’t heard from her since she’d soothed my nerves on Friday after my big revelation…other than the music she’d played for the guys when they’d stopped by.
I wished she’d talk to me again.
I was ready and eager to start solving her murder now.
Since I had a break between classes from noon to two, that’s when I dove in.
I returned to the library. Except just stepping foot inside the front doors brought back all the memories of the last time I’d been here with Damien.
We’d been so delirious with happiness then, sneaking off to celebrate my news report.
But God, that felt like a lifetime ago.
Not sure where else to go for the next step in my mission, I headed toward the information counter.
The girl at the front desk was the same one who’d seen me and Damien sneak into the health room.
She was busy helping someone else when I walked up, and she had her back to the counter fetching something from a cabinet behind the desk.
When she turned around, she held a stapler. “Here you go, professor.”
“Thanks, Waverly,” the man answered, accepting it gratefully. “I’ll get this right back to you.”
When he turned away, I could see a stack of papers that looked like posters tucked under one arm. He didn’t seem to realize I was there, so I had to back up abruptly to get out of his way as he mumbled something to himself and carried on as if he were stuck in his own world.
I glanced after him, watching him trudge to a bulletin board not far away and bend down to awkwardly set his posters on the ground. Then he meticulously picked up one sheet and began to staple it to the board.
When I turned back to the service desk, Waverly’s eyes widened at me before she shifted a glance to the door of the health room and back.
Yeah, I wanted to say, I’m that girl.
But instead, I flashed her a bright smile. “Hi. Waverly, is it? I have a strange request.”
“Okay…” she answered slowly, looking beyond suspicious.
“So I’m renting this room down on Bridleway near The FroYo Palace,” I started. “And I just learned a college student was murdered in that very apartment, like, ten years ago.”
“Oh, you mean the Haunted Brownstone,” Waverly answered as if she knew all about it. When I sent her a questioning blink, she shrugged. “I grew up in Westport. I was eight or nine when Thalia Archer was killed.”
Behind me, a clattering bang made me jump out of my skin.
I whirled around to see that the man at the bulletin board had dropped his stapler. His mumbling grew louder as he rushed to pick it up.
I turned back to Waverly, and she shrugged. “My mom wouldn’t let me ride my bicycle more than a block away from home for, like, a year after that.”
With an affected shiver, I said, “I bet. The killer was never caught, right?”
“They never even had a viable suspect,” Waverly answered with a sad shake of the head. “It was all so crazy. Nothing like that ever happens here, so everyone was super paranoid for a while. I think the university instituted a campus-wide curfew that stuck for the entire semester.”
“Wow,” I said. “Well… I, uh, I stumbled across this box of old stuff in the attic,” I lied because I didn’t feel as if I could come right out and tell her that I’d gotten my information straight from the mouth of a dead girl. “And I think it’s some of her stuff, you know…”
Waverly shifted closer with interest. “Really? Wicked. So have you ever seen any paranormal activity? I hear freaky stuff happens there, like, all the time.”
I shrugged out a hesitant wince. “Well… Yeah,” I admitted. “I might’ve seen and heard some…things.”
Eyes growing wide with awe, Waverly murmured, “That is so cool.”
“I guess,” I agreed with a wince. If you were the type of person who actually got into that. “But at least she seems to be a friendly ghost, so…” I shrugged. “I don’t know if it means anything at all, but I found some papers, like, letters maybe…”
And I almost bashed myself over the head for that really vague, confusing explanation. Library Girl was going to see right through me.
But Waverly seemed wholly invested in whatever I had to say. Leaning forward, she nodded. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And it made me think she was having some kind of…relationship, possibly…with a married professor on campus. And she was threatening to expose him to his wife.”
Waverly gasped. “No way. And that’s why he killed her?”
I shrugged and bit my lip. “I don’t really know. I don’t know if he’s even the one who killed her, but… It kind of sounded like it could be him.”
“It does.” Bobbing her head in agreement, Waverly seemed totally on board with the idea. “That definitely sounds like something that should be explored.”
“Right?” I agreed, pointing at her. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. So I was wondering how I could go about getting a list of all the faculty on campus ten years ago who had the first name Josh.”
Eyes widening more, Waverly leaned in and whispered, “Was that his name? The married professor who—”
When I nodded, she shifted back again, looking stunned. “This is big,” she said. “If we could figure out who he was, we could solve a ten-year-old murder mystery.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, only to make a face. “Or it could be a dead end.”
“I’m going to research and see what I can come up with,” she stated decisively.
“That would be awesome,” I said, getting excited. “Can I give you my number so you can let me know what you find?”
“Sure.”
She pulled up a post-it note and pen, and I jotted down my name and number before handing her the sheet.
“I’ll get right on this,” she swore, lifting the paper to let me know she meant business.
“Thanks. I really hope we can find something. To give Thalia a little peace, you know.”
“And her family too, I bet,” Waverly agreed.
Exactly. I swallowed painfully as I nodded, thinking of Damien. I really wanted to help him solve this since he’d wanted it so badly for the past ten years.
“Looking forward to hearing back from you,” I called as I waved farewell to Waverly, who waved back as she answered the service desk phone that started to ring.
And that was that. I’d officially become a criminal investigator.
Feeling pretty awesome and proud of myself, I turned away to start for the exit, only to trip over something on the floor and nearly go sprawling onto my face.
After catching my balance, I glanced back to see what had tripped me, only to discover that the guy who’d been putting up the flyer with a bunch of beakers, test tubes, and dollar signs on it had left Waverly’s stapler abandoned on the middle of the floor in front of the bulletin board.
Gah. Some people.
I mean, way to burst my groove, man.
I picked up the stapler with an aggravated sigh and returned it to the counter, handing it back to Waverly, who smiled gratefully and murmured, “Thanks,” before answering a question on the phone.
And finally, I left the library, still feeling hopeful but maybe not quite as cocky and cool as I’d originally been.
Still. I had a feeling Waverly and I were going to get to the bottom of this, and sooner rather than later.
We were going to find Thalia’s killer.
35
OAKLYNN
For the rest of the day, I was lost in thought, unable to stop wondering what to do about Damien. I didn’t want him to think that I would just excuse all his bad behavior and allow him to lie to me at will. But…I also wanted to forgive him.
I kept remembering the look on his face when he’d unlocked the door to Thalia’s room. It had taken all his willpower not to run away. This whole thing had to have been pretty traumatic for him.
I mean, who really knew how you were supposed to act during a time like this?
I fully believed he’d just been doing the best he could. Although, I kind of had to believe that, otherwise I’d have to question every intimate moment we’d ever shared.
And I definitely didn’t want to question those. They had been too real and meaningful. I’d fallen for him just as much as he’d fallen for me. And if I’d known something about him that would change his entire world, I honestly don’t know how I would’ve told him either.
But the bullheaded stubbornness inside me absolutely wouldn’t let me forgive him today. If I was going to, then he had to sweat it out for at least…a week.
Except I missed him now.
He’d spoiled me too much. All that time with him made me want to be around him more. I ached for the slightest glimpse.
And as soon as I got home that evening, strangely not scared—just lonely—Damien was the first person I wanted to call.
But I refrained and worked on homework—alone—before I made myself supper, went upstairs, put some pajamas on, then climbed into bed to scroll through my phone for a while.
I had tried all evening to start a conversation with Thalia, but she was being irritatingly quiet.
Just before I put my phone on the charger for the night, a text came in from Damien.
Good night.
I hissed out a long sigh, not sure if I should even answer. But then I typed out a quick, “Night,” and closed my phone app.
After turning off my bedside lamp, I settled down on my side and stared at the window where the soft glow of streetlights filtered into the room.
“Night, Thalia,” I said aloud. “I miss you, too.”
When she didn’t answer, I closed my eyes.
Sleep didn’t come immediately, but it felt as if I’d just dropped off when something jostled my shoulder roughly.
“Oaklynn!” A familiar voice whispered with urgency. “Come on, Oaklynn. Wake the fuck up. Now.”
A suddenly frigid chill swept over me, and I groaned, tugging the blankets higher over my shoulders. “Damn, Thalia. I’m trying to...”
Remembering that Thalia was no longer alive and therefore should not be nudging me awake, my eyes flew open. “Wha—?”
Before I could even finish the word, she warned, “Shh...”
Her face appeared in front of me, and she looked scared shitless.
“He’s…in…the house,” she whispered, trembling uncontrollably as her gaze slid to my bedroom door.
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but then I heard it. The wooden floorboards of the hallway creaked as if someone was sneaking past my damn door.
“Hide. Now,” Thalia commanded, her voice no longer quiet or guarded. “No fucking way is this prick doing to you what he did to me.”
Wait. What!?
Before I could ask if she meant what I thought she meant, she shoved at my sheets, and I felt the pressure as if she’d physically pushed me.
“Go!”
So I went. Without question.
I rolled off the side of the bed and landed with a silent thud on all fours on the carpet. My heart was racing so fast, it rushed through my ears, making it impossible to hear anything else.
And yet I still managed to make out Thalia’s voice when she told me, “Under the bed. Roll. Roll!”
I rolled, and the bed skirt brushed my face as I made my way under the mattress.
Once I was flattened on my stomach in my secure spot, I lifted my face enough to see the closed door that led into the hall. My breathing was so hard it sounded as if a tornado was approaching.
“Shh...” Thalia advised. I glanced over to find her lying on her stomach next to me, hiding as well. “Maybe he’ll think you’re not here and leave. Just breathe. Nice, even breaths.”
I opened my mouth to ask her who was in the hall when I heard the latch to my door click.
Attention zooming around, I watched in horror as my bedroom door silently creaked open. It paused briefly as if to make sure the sound didn’t wake me, then it continued until a boot stepped into the room, with dark pants covering the leg.
“Through your nose,” Thalia assured me. “Slow, quiet breaths.”
I went dizzy from how hard I concentrated on breathing silently through my nose.
“You’re doing great.”
I glanced at her, unable to stop shaking and wishing I could ask what the hell was happening and who was currently sneaking into my room.
The boots approached and halted inches from my face.
I held my breath, trying not to whimper.
Above me, the bed jerked as the blankets hanging down shifted abruptly as if maybe my guest had just whipped off the sheets and stabbed...the mattress.
A whispered curse followed.
The boots shifted as if he were looking around the room, searching the darkened corners for me.
“Phone, purse, and car are still here,” he mumbled in a strange guttural voice. “Meaning, you’re still here, aren’t you, little mouse? Just hiding from the cat in some hole in the wall, I bet. Let’s see… Are you…?” He moved away from the bed and finished with, “In the closet?” at the same moment he ripped the closet door open.
But I wasn’t in the closet, asshole. Try again.
Except he did try again. In the bathroom.
While he was in there, Thalia warned me, “He’s going to look under the bed next. Get ready to crawl out the other end and run, okay? I’ll try to distract him.”
“No, wait...” I hissed, reaching for her. “Don’t leave me. Thal...”
But my fingers caught air as she disappeared.
From behind me, that creepy voice announced, “There you are,” just as a hand wrapped around my bare ankle.
I shrieked and kicked out, hoping to dislodge him. But he merely caught my other ankle as well.
“Got you now, little mouse.”
He started to pull me out, and the carpet burned against my resisting skin.
“Oh God.”
“He’d stripped her naked and raped her, then cut her from sternum to pubic bone, straight down the middle. Plus, he slit her wrists, her throat, and ankles…like some kind of lab experiment, like he was dissecting a…frog…or something.”
I shook my head and clapped a hand over my mouth as tears filled my eyes.
“Her eyes were open, but I don’t think she could see anything anymore. She wasn’t able to speak either. All she did was gasp out this wheezing sound, and then… She died before I could even turn back around and get help.”
“Holy shit, Damien,” I breathed. “So that was probably the killer, escaping out the roof exit that you heard. Fucking hell, you’re lucky he didn’t go after you too.”
“Probably,” he admitted in a lifeless voice. “Didn’t feel very lucky back then, though.”
“I can only imagine,” I admitted pathetically. “I am so sorry. How the hell are you able to go near this place?”
“Oh, I didn’t for the longest time,” he admitted openly. “I couldn’t. But joining the grief group helped. It was honest-to-God the best thing I ever did. It introduced me to my core group, and now I have friends I know I can trust with anything. Plus, I can talk about Thalia and remember good things about her. I only wish I could figure out who did it. And why.”
I bit my lip, and my gut burned with the need to help him figure it out too.
“Maybe this Josh person will lead us to some answers,” he said.
And I nodded immediately. “Yeah. Hopefully.”
“I used to be consumed with wanting to find him,” he admitted. “I read all the serial killer books, made one of those evidence boards with pictures and string on it. The remains of it are still under my bed. And I called the police department weekly, then once every few months after they turned it into a cold case. My friends made me get into running so I’d have another hobby, but nothing was as important to me as getting my sister some justice.”
“What finally made the obsession stop?” I asked because I certainly hadn’t seen this preoccupied side of him.
“It was the strangest thing,” he answered. “I was running one morning and came to her brownstone where I always turned around, but when I glanced over, I saw a face in the window that shouldn’t have been there.”
Realizing he was talking about me, I exhaled slowly.
“You were the first person who could’ve helped me get some real answers, and all I had to do was just ask you for help. But instead, I found myself wanting to enjoy simply being around you. I started to forget about Thalia for longer stretches of time, and instead of being so eaten up with needing to find her killer, I wanted to just focus on living life and getting to see you again.”
“Oh, Damien,” I mumbled sadly.
“I know,” he agreed. “Being too afraid to tell you the truth fucked me over, but… You gave me a new purpose and taught me there was more to life. I think I really needed that. So I want to thank you. Just… Thank you for showing me that I actually want more than just justice. Thank you for everything. Despite all the regrets I’m having right now, getting to be with you for the time I did is not one of them.”
From the point on, I burst into tears like a leaky faucet.
After crying my way to sleep, I woke the next morning with Damien still on my mind.
I turned toward my bed stand and reached for my phone. The line remained open, and I could hear Damien’s heavy, even breathing on the other end.
I smiled, honored that he’d kept his word and hadn’t hung up on me.
“Good morning, Damien,” I whispered. And when that had absolutely no effect on him at all, I whispered, “I love you.” Because after last night, there was no stopping me from loving him. He was the undeniable axis of this new world in which I now rotated.
Then I quickly disconnected the line before I actually woke him up.
After showering and changing for the day, I went down to make myself some breakfast, knocking on Thalia’s door as I passed.
“Morning, roomie. Rise and shine.”
But she didn’t answer.
I hadn’t heard from her since she’d soothed my nerves on Friday after my big revelation…other than the music she’d played for the guys when they’d stopped by.
I wished she’d talk to me again.
I was ready and eager to start solving her murder now.
Since I had a break between classes from noon to two, that’s when I dove in.
I returned to the library. Except just stepping foot inside the front doors brought back all the memories of the last time I’d been here with Damien.
We’d been so delirious with happiness then, sneaking off to celebrate my news report.
But God, that felt like a lifetime ago.
Not sure where else to go for the next step in my mission, I headed toward the information counter.
The girl at the front desk was the same one who’d seen me and Damien sneak into the health room.
She was busy helping someone else when I walked up, and she had her back to the counter fetching something from a cabinet behind the desk.
When she turned around, she held a stapler. “Here you go, professor.”
“Thanks, Waverly,” the man answered, accepting it gratefully. “I’ll get this right back to you.”
When he turned away, I could see a stack of papers that looked like posters tucked under one arm. He didn’t seem to realize I was there, so I had to back up abruptly to get out of his way as he mumbled something to himself and carried on as if he were stuck in his own world.
I glanced after him, watching him trudge to a bulletin board not far away and bend down to awkwardly set his posters on the ground. Then he meticulously picked up one sheet and began to staple it to the board.
When I turned back to the service desk, Waverly’s eyes widened at me before she shifted a glance to the door of the health room and back.
Yeah, I wanted to say, I’m that girl.
But instead, I flashed her a bright smile. “Hi. Waverly, is it? I have a strange request.”
“Okay…” she answered slowly, looking beyond suspicious.
“So I’m renting this room down on Bridleway near The FroYo Palace,” I started. “And I just learned a college student was murdered in that very apartment, like, ten years ago.”
“Oh, you mean the Haunted Brownstone,” Waverly answered as if she knew all about it. When I sent her a questioning blink, she shrugged. “I grew up in Westport. I was eight or nine when Thalia Archer was killed.”
Behind me, a clattering bang made me jump out of my skin.
I whirled around to see that the man at the bulletin board had dropped his stapler. His mumbling grew louder as he rushed to pick it up.
I turned back to Waverly, and she shrugged. “My mom wouldn’t let me ride my bicycle more than a block away from home for, like, a year after that.”
With an affected shiver, I said, “I bet. The killer was never caught, right?”
“They never even had a viable suspect,” Waverly answered with a sad shake of the head. “It was all so crazy. Nothing like that ever happens here, so everyone was super paranoid for a while. I think the university instituted a campus-wide curfew that stuck for the entire semester.”
“Wow,” I said. “Well… I, uh, I stumbled across this box of old stuff in the attic,” I lied because I didn’t feel as if I could come right out and tell her that I’d gotten my information straight from the mouth of a dead girl. “And I think it’s some of her stuff, you know…”
Waverly shifted closer with interest. “Really? Wicked. So have you ever seen any paranormal activity? I hear freaky stuff happens there, like, all the time.”
I shrugged out a hesitant wince. “Well… Yeah,” I admitted. “I might’ve seen and heard some…things.”
Eyes growing wide with awe, Waverly murmured, “That is so cool.”
“I guess,” I agreed with a wince. If you were the type of person who actually got into that. “But at least she seems to be a friendly ghost, so…” I shrugged. “I don’t know if it means anything at all, but I found some papers, like, letters maybe…”
And I almost bashed myself over the head for that really vague, confusing explanation. Library Girl was going to see right through me.
But Waverly seemed wholly invested in whatever I had to say. Leaning forward, she nodded. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And it made me think she was having some kind of…relationship, possibly…with a married professor on campus. And she was threatening to expose him to his wife.”
Waverly gasped. “No way. And that’s why he killed her?”
I shrugged and bit my lip. “I don’t really know. I don’t know if he’s even the one who killed her, but… It kind of sounded like it could be him.”
“It does.” Bobbing her head in agreement, Waverly seemed totally on board with the idea. “That definitely sounds like something that should be explored.”
“Right?” I agreed, pointing at her. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. So I was wondering how I could go about getting a list of all the faculty on campus ten years ago who had the first name Josh.”
Eyes widening more, Waverly leaned in and whispered, “Was that his name? The married professor who—”
When I nodded, she shifted back again, looking stunned. “This is big,” she said. “If we could figure out who he was, we could solve a ten-year-old murder mystery.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, only to make a face. “Or it could be a dead end.”
“I’m going to research and see what I can come up with,” she stated decisively.
“That would be awesome,” I said, getting excited. “Can I give you my number so you can let me know what you find?”
“Sure.”
She pulled up a post-it note and pen, and I jotted down my name and number before handing her the sheet.
“I’ll get right on this,” she swore, lifting the paper to let me know she meant business.
“Thanks. I really hope we can find something. To give Thalia a little peace, you know.”
“And her family too, I bet,” Waverly agreed.
Exactly. I swallowed painfully as I nodded, thinking of Damien. I really wanted to help him solve this since he’d wanted it so badly for the past ten years.
“Looking forward to hearing back from you,” I called as I waved farewell to Waverly, who waved back as she answered the service desk phone that started to ring.
And that was that. I’d officially become a criminal investigator.
Feeling pretty awesome and proud of myself, I turned away to start for the exit, only to trip over something on the floor and nearly go sprawling onto my face.
After catching my balance, I glanced back to see what had tripped me, only to discover that the guy who’d been putting up the flyer with a bunch of beakers, test tubes, and dollar signs on it had left Waverly’s stapler abandoned on the middle of the floor in front of the bulletin board.
Gah. Some people.
I mean, way to burst my groove, man.
I picked up the stapler with an aggravated sigh and returned it to the counter, handing it back to Waverly, who smiled gratefully and murmured, “Thanks,” before answering a question on the phone.
And finally, I left the library, still feeling hopeful but maybe not quite as cocky and cool as I’d originally been.
Still. I had a feeling Waverly and I were going to get to the bottom of this, and sooner rather than later.
We were going to find Thalia’s killer.
35
OAKLYNN
For the rest of the day, I was lost in thought, unable to stop wondering what to do about Damien. I didn’t want him to think that I would just excuse all his bad behavior and allow him to lie to me at will. But…I also wanted to forgive him.
I kept remembering the look on his face when he’d unlocked the door to Thalia’s room. It had taken all his willpower not to run away. This whole thing had to have been pretty traumatic for him.
I mean, who really knew how you were supposed to act during a time like this?
I fully believed he’d just been doing the best he could. Although, I kind of had to believe that, otherwise I’d have to question every intimate moment we’d ever shared.
And I definitely didn’t want to question those. They had been too real and meaningful. I’d fallen for him just as much as he’d fallen for me. And if I’d known something about him that would change his entire world, I honestly don’t know how I would’ve told him either.
But the bullheaded stubbornness inside me absolutely wouldn’t let me forgive him today. If I was going to, then he had to sweat it out for at least…a week.
Except I missed him now.
He’d spoiled me too much. All that time with him made me want to be around him more. I ached for the slightest glimpse.
And as soon as I got home that evening, strangely not scared—just lonely—Damien was the first person I wanted to call.
But I refrained and worked on homework—alone—before I made myself supper, went upstairs, put some pajamas on, then climbed into bed to scroll through my phone for a while.
I had tried all evening to start a conversation with Thalia, but she was being irritatingly quiet.
Just before I put my phone on the charger for the night, a text came in from Damien.
Good night.
I hissed out a long sigh, not sure if I should even answer. But then I typed out a quick, “Night,” and closed my phone app.
After turning off my bedside lamp, I settled down on my side and stared at the window where the soft glow of streetlights filtered into the room.
“Night, Thalia,” I said aloud. “I miss you, too.”
When she didn’t answer, I closed my eyes.
Sleep didn’t come immediately, but it felt as if I’d just dropped off when something jostled my shoulder roughly.
“Oaklynn!” A familiar voice whispered with urgency. “Come on, Oaklynn. Wake the fuck up. Now.”
A suddenly frigid chill swept over me, and I groaned, tugging the blankets higher over my shoulders. “Damn, Thalia. I’m trying to...”
Remembering that Thalia was no longer alive and therefore should not be nudging me awake, my eyes flew open. “Wha—?”
Before I could even finish the word, she warned, “Shh...”
Her face appeared in front of me, and she looked scared shitless.
“He’s…in…the house,” she whispered, trembling uncontrollably as her gaze slid to my bedroom door.
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but then I heard it. The wooden floorboards of the hallway creaked as if someone was sneaking past my damn door.
“Hide. Now,” Thalia commanded, her voice no longer quiet or guarded. “No fucking way is this prick doing to you what he did to me.”
Wait. What!?
Before I could ask if she meant what I thought she meant, she shoved at my sheets, and I felt the pressure as if she’d physically pushed me.
“Go!”
So I went. Without question.
I rolled off the side of the bed and landed with a silent thud on all fours on the carpet. My heart was racing so fast, it rushed through my ears, making it impossible to hear anything else.
And yet I still managed to make out Thalia’s voice when she told me, “Under the bed. Roll. Roll!”
I rolled, and the bed skirt brushed my face as I made my way under the mattress.
Once I was flattened on my stomach in my secure spot, I lifted my face enough to see the closed door that led into the hall. My breathing was so hard it sounded as if a tornado was approaching.
“Shh...” Thalia advised. I glanced over to find her lying on her stomach next to me, hiding as well. “Maybe he’ll think you’re not here and leave. Just breathe. Nice, even breaths.”
I opened my mouth to ask her who was in the hall when I heard the latch to my door click.
Attention zooming around, I watched in horror as my bedroom door silently creaked open. It paused briefly as if to make sure the sound didn’t wake me, then it continued until a boot stepped into the room, with dark pants covering the leg.
“Through your nose,” Thalia assured me. “Slow, quiet breaths.”
I went dizzy from how hard I concentrated on breathing silently through my nose.
“You’re doing great.”
I glanced at her, unable to stop shaking and wishing I could ask what the hell was happening and who was currently sneaking into my room.
The boots approached and halted inches from my face.
I held my breath, trying not to whimper.
Above me, the bed jerked as the blankets hanging down shifted abruptly as if maybe my guest had just whipped off the sheets and stabbed...the mattress.
A whispered curse followed.
The boots shifted as if he were looking around the room, searching the darkened corners for me.
“Phone, purse, and car are still here,” he mumbled in a strange guttural voice. “Meaning, you’re still here, aren’t you, little mouse? Just hiding from the cat in some hole in the wall, I bet. Let’s see… Are you…?” He moved away from the bed and finished with, “In the closet?” at the same moment he ripped the closet door open.
But I wasn’t in the closet, asshole. Try again.
Except he did try again. In the bathroom.
While he was in there, Thalia warned me, “He’s going to look under the bed next. Get ready to crawl out the other end and run, okay? I’ll try to distract him.”
“No, wait...” I hissed, reaching for her. “Don’t leave me. Thal...”
But my fingers caught air as she disappeared.
From behind me, that creepy voice announced, “There you are,” just as a hand wrapped around my bare ankle.
I shrieked and kicked out, hoping to dislodge him. But he merely caught my other ankle as well.
“Got you now, little mouse.”
He started to pull me out, and the carpet burned against my resisting skin.
