Chapter 34 Roman
ROMAN
It took three hours to get to the judge’s house. Not only was it quite a trek, but traffic was a nightmare, and when I arrived, I was stiff from sitting for so long and pissed that I’d spent my entire afternoon in the car.
The sun had set, which meant, by the time I checked the place out and then drove home, it would be another late night when all I wanted to do was search for Hana.
Seeing her today, albeit briefly and through a grainy image, had only refuelled my obsession, and the need to know where she’d gone was at the forefront of my mind.
I parked a couple of streets away from the address Sean had sent me. I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact I was there.
I unlocked the front door of the massive house.
“Jesus, do posh people not heat their homes?” I mumbled to myself, pulling the hood of my sweater up before dropping the keys onto the side table in the hall.
The place was in darkness, so I flicked on the lights, looking around at the ostentatious décor and hideous ornaments as I walked into the living room.
My eyes scanned high and low, searching for anything that looked suspicious or out of place. There wasn’t any sign of cameras or computers lying around.
I continued walking, my feet on the hardwood floors and the hammering of my heart the only sounds. I knew I was here alone, but it felt like there were eyes on me; an eerie feeling making the hairs on my arms stand tall.
“No such thing as ghosts, Roman,” I muttered to myself as I moved into another room, turning on the lights in there too.
“I’m not cut out for this shit. This is why I watch people through the lens of a camera.
Not going to get murdered there, am I?” My mumbles helped make the silence less ominous, but my feet moved faster as I searched the other rooms. I found a laptop and a tablet, which I put in a pile to take with me, but I didn’t find anything else downstairs, so I made my way to the wide, sweeping staircase.
I was halfway up when a bang echoed through the house, and I paused, straining to listen for its cause as my heart bounced off my ribs.
“Hello?” I called, wondering what Sean or Jarrid would say about me announcing my presence to a potential burglar/serial killer. When there wasn’t another noise, I started walking slowly, peering up to the upper floor that was shrouded in darkness.
I passed a light switch, flicking it on and expecting the floor to light up, but nothing happened. I tried again, flicking the switch up and down a couple of times, but still nothing. A lump appeared in my throat, my palms growing sweaty.
I eased my phone from my back pocket and typed out a message to Sean.
Me: Some weird shit is going on. Not sure I’m here alone.
I switched the phone to silent and turned on the torch as the device vibrated with a reply.
Sean: Get the fuck out.
Me: I’m probably being paranoid. I’ll call you when I’m done.
Sean: Wasn’t a request. Get out!
I ignored him, holding onto the bannister as I tried my best to be quiet, which, at my size, was pretty impossible.
There was another sound, a shuffling, as if someone was dragging their back against the wall, trying to stay out of sight.
“I’ve got a gun,” I said, which was ridiculous, because not only did I not have one, I wouldn’t have the balls to point it at another person even if I did.
I let go of the handrail to push my fingers through my hair, my hand holding my torch-lit phone beginning to shake a little as I thought about someone waiting in the darkness for me.
Fucking Jarrid was going to get an arse-kicking tomorrow.
I took another few steps, and then someone appeared, dressed in black, lurching towards me.
I cried out when their skeleton mask-covered face loomed, lit by the torch. It was terrifying, and I stumbled on the step, which seemed to freak them out as they braced their hands on the wall and the wooden handrail and lifted their feet, shoving me hard in the chest with them.
It all happened in slow motion, but I couldn’t stop it. I reached for something to hold on to, but I was already falling, past the point of being able to defy gravity.
I hit the stairs hard, tumbling backwards, my eyes fixed on the person who’d pushed me as the house spun. The last thing I remember was my head bouncing off something that jolted my brain, and then the world went black.
“You scare me like that again, and I will fucking shoot you in the head myself… actually, I’ll shoot you in the balls and watch as you bleed out slowly.
” Sean stood at the end of my bed, hands on his hips, glaring at me like an angry father.
I rolled my eyes, but the movement made my head hurt, and so I followed it with a wince.
I came to in the back of an ambulance, my head throbbing and my body aching like a bitch.
Apparently, Sean had flipped when he couldn’t contact me and sent the local police to check I was alright.
They’d found me unconscious, later telling me I’d probably disturbed a burglar who heard the place was empty. I thought differently.
“Sorry,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest, feeling ridiculous.
“Doc has given you the all clear. We need to keep an eye on your head as you’ve probably got a concussion, but my clever doctor wife said she’ll do that, and since you got off lucky and bounced like a ball, you don’t have any other injuries, and they’re happy to discharge you.”
I twisted my legs off the bed with a groan. “Tell that to my aching bones,” I told him as I pushed my feet into my boots and stood, the room spinning a little as my temples throbbed. Sean grabbed my elbow.
“You can stay the night if you’re feeling shitty. Sorry, I should be a bit more sympathetic.” His voice was full of concern instead of anger now.
I shook my head, regretting it instantly. “No. I just want my own bed. And I like the idea of your hot wife having to take care of me.”
Sean growled like an angry bear, and I couldn’t hold in my laughter.
“You won’t need a doctor if you look at my wife.
I’ll kill you myself,” he muttered as he grabbed my bag and we walked through the maze of corridors to the entrance.
“You’re a pain in my arse, and if I didn’t like you, I’d sack you for going against my clear orders.
Do it again, and you won’t be as lucky.”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about my job or the fact that I was pushed down the stairs by a masked attacker and walked away with only a mild concussion.
“Promise. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”