Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
COLE
“Do you see them?” I keep my voice low so as not to startle her.
She’s trembling beside me, her whole body vibrating with fear. After the cameras and now this, her nerves are probably fried. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against my chest, hoping I can chase away the demons.
“Hey.” I squeeze her. “It’s going to be fine. The ambulance is on the way.”
She tilts her head up to look at me, eyes wide with worry. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but that’s when the sky decides to really show off. Lightning splits the darkness with a brilliant white flash that turns everything into a photographic negative for one blinding instant.
A deafening boom quickly follows.
Then the lights cut out. The house plunges into complete darkness except for the occasional strobe of lightning through the windows. Lily’s shaking intensifies, and I can feel her heart hammering against my chest where she’s pressed close.
“Fuck. That’s exactly what we need right now.” I fumble for my phone’s flashlight with my free hand. “It’s okay. Probably a blown transformer from the storm.” When was the last time we had rain like this?
The weak beam doesn’t do much to penetrate the shadows, but it’s better than nothing. I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers, hoping to soothe her.
“Come on. Let’s go check the breaker box together.” I’m not about to leave her alone in the dark when she’s this spooked.
We take maybe three steps away from the window when the sound of shattering glass echoes from the hallway that leads to the garage and mudroom.
Every muscle in my body snaps tight. That definitely wasn’t the storm.
“Cole?” Lily’s voice is barely a whisper.
My mind races through possibilities, none of them good. The garage windows are protected by the overhang. It would be hard for a branch to reach them, nearly impossible. Which means . . .
Turning to Lily, I keep my voice low. “Do you have your phone?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Good. Call the cops. Now.” We’re about seven miles out of town, but if they understand the urgency, maybe they’ll be here sooner.
I’m already moving toward the kitchen. My fingers close around the ten-inch chef’s knife and I tug it free from the block.
“I should come with you.” Lily’s voice follows me, pitched high with fear.
“Absolutely not.” I spin back toward her, probably looking like a maniac with the knife in my hand. “Stay here. I mean it, Red. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
She nods, clutching her phone with both hands. The screen’s glow illuminates her face, making her freckles stand out like scattered stars.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I head toward the hallway, each step deliberate and quiet. The knife is slick in my palm. When the hell did I start sweating? My breath comes in short bursts that sound too loud in the silence between thunder crashes.
Dammit. I’m all amped up. The light from my phone barely lights up the dark space but I can see the garage door is still closed, exactly as we left it. No signs of forced entry, no wet footprints on the tile. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was the storm after all.
But then I step into the laundry room and freeze.
The window above the washer gapes open, jagged teeth of glass still clinging to the frame. Rain spatters through the opening, mixing with the shards on the floor.
I crouch down, scanning for a rock or branch—anything that would explain the break. Nothing. Only glass and water and the sick certainty creeping up my spine that someone did this on purpose.
Standing fast enough to make me dizzy, I spin around, ready to sprint back to Lily, to get her the hell out of here, but something hard and metal crashes into my temple.
Stars explode across my vision. The knife I was holding clatters to the floor as my legs give out. My heart nearly collapses in on itself as one terrifying thought zips through my mind. No one is here to protect Lily.
I shout her name, hoping she’ll take it as a warning and run.
Then
everything
goes
dark.