Chapter 6
Kylie
After years of watching true crime documentaries, I never thought I’d end up in a situation with the potential to end up on one of their episodes myself.
Arrogantly, I thought I’d be more careful and skeptical of strangers.
And now I’m going home with one who apparently lives in the middle of a fucking forest?
Oh, this might have been a bad idea. Not the worst I ever had so far, but it has potential to take the top spot, depending on if I make it to tomorrow alive.
I’m in my own car, following behind Erik, who’s turning into what seems to be a long-winded driveway lined by sky-high pines casting the scariest shadows I’ve ever seen in the rays of a very bright full moon.
Abby whines on my back seat. I glance at my rearview mirror to watch her.
“I know, girly.” I sigh and run my hand over my face. “This was a bad idea.”
Was it, though? I mean, he’s the officer who’s apparently responsible for this town, and I didn’t exactly get any creepy or unsettling vibes from him.
Wasn’t Ted Bundy known to be charismatic?
Then again, I’m not sure ‘charismatic’ is a word I’d use to describe Erik. Apart from the fact he’s hot, he’s a little gruff around the edges but seems as genuine as they come. And the others seem to think so too.
Hell, Erik even made sure I exchanged numbers with Nic, Lauren, and Kieran, to make me feel better.
What kind of serial killer would insist on making their job harder?
But still, unease settles in my stomach.
Or is it? Maybe my ‘I’m about to die’ anxiety is misplaced and I’m actually nervous because I’m staying over at a hot guy’s house.
Which hasn’t happened, in like, ever. After all, Zach and I got together when we were super young, way before I would have ever called him ‘hot.’ If I recall correctly, the word I used to describe him to friends back then was ‘cute’ or ‘handsome.’ I never even got into the grown-up dating game.
Oh God, am I in the grown-up dating game now? I don’t even know how it works! Is this what people these days are doing and I’m only clueless? Going to a stranger’s house in the middle of a forest after knowing them for an afternoon?
Finally, Erik pulls aside and my headlights reveal a house. It’s cute. At least from the outside, it doesn’t give me bachelor pad vibes. A blinding porch light turns on as soon as our cars pull in next to it, revealing a manicured lawn and cute little porch.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter under my breath and square my shoulders. Then I get out, but I don’t close my car door yet. Just in case I need to book it out of here.
“Here we are. This is my humble abode,” Erik declares and rounds his car. Huh? Where did the broody, closed off guy from before go? Suddenly, he seems softer around the edges and there’s even a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Is there anything I can help you carry inside?”
I stare at him, a heartbeat too long into awkward-territory. Get it together, Kylie!
“No, I’m good.” I shake my head and open the door to my back seat to let Abby out. Lastly, I grab the backpack I packed in a hurry once it was clear I wouldn’t be able to stay in my house tonight from the trunk. “Thank you again for letting me stay in your guest room tonight.”
“You’re very welcome. Come on, I’ll show you your room.” He walks ahead and while I’d love to admire his broad shoulders, my eyes dart around to check for easy escape routes should worse come to worst.
Obviously, I could run back the same way we came from, but as recently deducted, I’m not a good runner. My best bet would be to find a good hiding place. Abby is a way better runner, she’d be alright by herself, I reckon.
Mentally, I’m already smearing mud onto my face to blend in better with my surroundings, when I notice him holding the door open for me.
And the amused glint in his eyes is first off, very cute, and secondly tells me he knows exactly what I was thinking about.
Not embarrassing at all. Totally not.
“You’re staying right here,” he declares, thankfully ignoring my escape plan daydreaming and opens a door. Still, I’m only listening with half an ear, my eyes darting around his hallway. I’m nosy, sue me.
It’s cluttered in a lived-in way, though not messy. The walls of his hallway are lined with pictures of nature, and a dresser is almost hidden under a huge stack of newspapers.
“Kylie?”
“Yes?” I squeal and jump. Okay, him catching me snooping might be the tiniest bit embarrassing. “Sorry.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m nosy.”
“It’s okay.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve got nothing to hide, but I thought after your long day you might want to check out the room.”
“Yes,” I say quickly and motion for Abby to go ahead. My furry security guard. Though I suspect she’d run, rather than try to protect me. She isn’t distressed though, so I enter the room.
“There’s an en-suite bathroom over there.” Erik points to my left.
I take in the room. It’s cute. There’s a bed in the corner, but it definitely functions as some kind of hobby room when he doesn’t have damsels in distress staying over.
One of the walls is lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with what appear to be fantasy and nonfiction books.
Several more that didn’t fit are stacked in front of the shelves, almost up to my hip.
“Whoa, you read a lot,” I say in awe and step closer to the shelves to have a better look.
“When I have the time.” I watch him from the corner of my eye.
Judging by how worn most of these books are, I’m assuming he has a lot of it.
“I’ll leave you to it. I’m heading back over to the lake at the crack of dawn tomorrow, so if you need to leave, just make sure to pull the door closed behind you, please. ”
“Yes of course. Thank you.” I clear my throat.
Awkwardness settling between us makes the air heavy. The awkwardness of two strangers sharing a home on a random Tuesday night. It was hard to avoid, I guess.
“Good night, Kylie. Sleep well.”
Leaving the room is certainly one way to resolve it.
“Good night, Erik,” I mumble after while he’s already pulling the door closed behind him. His footsteps turn softer, the further he walks down the hallway and I follow where I assume he is with my eyes along the wall.
“Oh my God.” I sink onto the bed once I don’t hear any footsteps anymore, bury my face in my hands and force myself to take a deep breath. Abby is resting at my feet, clearly unimpressed by what’s happening.
I’m fairly convinced he isn’t a serial killer. The key is even in the door so I can lock it if I want to. Plus, there’s a ground-level window I could escape through.
If his intention were to kill me, I assume I’d be chained to his basement wall already.
It’s close to midnight now. Way past time I sleep off this hell of a day. So I throw on the jogging pants and oversized shirt I packed as pajamas and brush my teeth.
By the time I’m in bed, Abby is already snoring softly. She seems to trust Erik. Considering she never even quite warmed up to Zach, I’d say that speaks for his character.
The bed is comfortable. Not quite as nice as the way too expensive mattress waiting for me back home, but I’ll survive.
A sliver of moonlight falls through the window. Owls hoot outside, the sound accompanied by the fluttering of wings and branches swinging in a soft breeze.
Even though exhaustion weighs down my every bone, I can’t sleep. I toss and turn in bed when suddenly, something curious catches my eyes. A board filled with photos, wedged between one of the bookshelves and the wall.
Quickly, I turn around and stare at the wall instead, my fingers itching with the need to know what’s on there.
No, Kylie. You’ve been snooping enough. Leave the man some privacy. He was nice enough to let me stay here, don’t leave a bad impression by being a nosy bitch.
Snooping is rude. Snooping is very rude.
But something about it doesn’t let me go. In the second of a glance, I caught of it, I could swear I saw images of a little girl.
My heart beats into my throat, blood suddenly ice-cold.
Oh my God. What if he’s a serial killer after all and it’s a board of his victims? A trophy board.
I have to look at it.
At this points it feels like a legal responsibility. Think of all the potential victim’s families you’d help!
I turn the light back on, much to Abby’s dismay, and sneak over to the bookshelves, not daring to make a sound. As if he’d suddenly burst through the door and catch me.
I shouldn’t. But if he’s a serial killer, I should at least know if I fit his MO.
Just pull it out, Kylie. He never needs to learn you snooped. Besides, if it’s a big secret, he would have taken it out of the room, right?
Ever so carefully, I crouch down and pull it out of its hiding place. It’s surprisingly heavy.
As quietly as possible, just in case, I lean it against the shelf and stare at it. There are tons of pictures. Some are full images; some are cut out people. Others are marked with scrawly notes I can’t quite decipher. And at the center, there’s a family picture.
I lean closer. Relief makes my shoulders sag.
The parents on the picture are a couple who look to be around their early thirties and the man has an undeniable resemblance to Erik. Those have to be his parents. A little girl is hugging his mother’s leg, while who I assume is his father holds a baby, which is probably him.
And that’s where the mystery seems to begin. The rest of the board is packed with pictures of the little girl and newspaper articles spanning over years.
Two words are in all the headlines: Missing Girl.
My heart sinks. “Oh no,” I whisper and cover my mouth with my hand. Now I feel bad. This is what I get for snooping.
Abby gets up and trudges past me. I barely pay her any mind, eyes still stuck on the board, until she lets out a whine. The high-pitched sound makes me startle, lose my balance and fall right on my butt.
“What is it, girly?” She stares at me with big eyes.