5. Hades
Hades
I follow the trail deeper into the woods.
The barking has stopped, but I continue in the direction it came from.
I have nothing better to do. And I'm curious.
The trail winds between thick trees, barely visible beneath layers of fallen leaves. Branches scrape against my jacket as I move through them, the fading daylight making it harder to see where I'm going.
After several minutes, the trees begin to thin.
I slow.
There's a house on the other side.
No, that’s not right. This isn’t just a house.
It’s a fucking mansion compared to the dump Wilder and I just moved into.
The sprawling Victorian sits tucked against the mountains, the dark wood siding nearly disappearing into the gathering darkness. White trim runs along the wide, wraparound porch, and a turret rises above one side of the house.
Warm light spills from tall windows.
So much for not having neighbors.
I stop behind a tree.
We're farther apart than I expected. There's a good stretch of woods between the two properties, enough that neither house is visible from the other.
But they're connected by the trail.
I look toward the house again.
Movement inside catches my attention.
It’s a woman.
I can only make out her silhouette at first.
She moves around the room before settling onto what looks like a couch in front of a fireplace.
I should leave.
I've found the source of the barking. Mystery solved.
Instead, I stay where I am.
Something flickers across the windows.
A television.
The woman shifts, and for a moment, I catch a better glimpse of her.
She has long, dark hair. She’s petite. At least from here. A dog sits on her lap.
The same dog I heard barking.
I lean my shoulder against the tree, watching.
The dog suddenly lifts its head, its attention turns toward the window.
Toward me.
Interesting.
I don't move.
The dog goes rigid.
A few seconds later, the woman looks toward the window too.
She says something I can't hear.
The dog continues staring.
So do I.
The woman places the dog on the couch and stands.
My attention sharpens as she walks toward the window.
I could leave. She hasn't seen me yet.
She probably won't. The porch light reaches only so far, and I'm well beyond it, surrounded by trees and darkness.
Still, I step farther behind the trunk. I don't want her to see me.
She reaches the window.
For the first time, I see her clearly.
My body stills.
She's beautiful.
Not in the polished, carefully constructed way I've seen a thousand times.
There's something softer about her.
Her long brown hair falls around her shoulders. She wears an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder, and her face is completely bare of makeup.
She leans closer to the glass, staring into the darkness.
She can't see me. I know she can't. There's too much light behind her and not enough around me.
But she searches anyway, as though she senses me.
Her gaze moves slowly over the yard before settling on the woods. On the tree I'm standing behind.
I don't move.
Neither does she.
For several seconds, we're facing each other across the darkness.
A light breeze moves through the forest, shifting a branch beside me.
Her entire body jerks backward.
The dog barks.
I almost smile.
She presses her face closer to the window, more cautious this time.
I remain exactly where I am.
Watching.
Waiting.
Even terrified, she’s stunning.
Or maybe her fear makes her more attractive to me.
Either way, my pulse is beating faster, urging me to move closer.
But I don’t.
Eventually, she steps away. The dog follows her.
I lose sight of them as they move through the house.
I should leave. Go back to the cabin.
Instead, I wait.
Seconds drag on.
When I see her move down the foyer, heading deeper into the house, I realize what she’s doing.
She’s checking the doors.
My lips curve slightly. Because of me.
Something unfamiliar moves through my chest.
It’s not guilt. I don't feel bad for frightening her.
I’m simply studying the neighbor I didn’t know I had.
And if she’s scared... well, judging from the noises I heard from the TV, she’s the one watching horror movies alone in a house surrounded by trees.
I catch another flash of her as she returns to the living room and stares out the window before finally settling on the couch.
Eventually, she relaxes, the tension draining from her body. Or most of it, anyway.
When she gets up and shuts off the TV, I hear her ask the little dog if she has to go potty.
But she doesn’t come outside.
Disappointment hits me before I can stop it.
I frown.
What the fuck?
I don't know this woman. I don't even know her name.
Yet I'm standing behind a tree watching her house like I have nowhere else to be.
She begins turning off the lights downstairs.
One by one, the rooms go dark.
I should go home. See if Wilder’s back.
I push away from the trunk and turn toward the trail.
But a light comes on upstairs, drawing my attention.
Second floor. Right side of the house.
I see her through the window.
Holy shit. She’s undressing.
No way in hell am I moving now.
Her back is toward me, but I catch a glimpse of her perfect ass in a pair of cotton panties as she strips, then puts on her pajamas.
She lifts the covers and crawls into bed.
Then the light goes out.
Even though her room is dark, I remain where I am.
I know where her bedroom is.
And though I shouldn’t care... I do.
There’s something about her that draws me to her. Makes me want to watch her. Learn her.
I finally turn toward the trail.
The woods are darker than they were when I came through, but I don't need much light to find my way back.
Not anymore.
I know exactly where the trail leads.