Chapter 8 #2
“You’re a grown ass man. Maybe it’s time you face the world alone. And just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you’re not brave.” She met his eyes. "Most brave people are."
He laughed softly, then winced. "Damn it."
"Told you not to move. Any dizziness?"
"No."
"Nausea?"
"No."
"You seeing two of me?"
He looked up at her.
"Only one beautiful lady."
Vicky rolled her eyes. "You're a mess."
"Thank you."
A chuckle escaped her.
Across the room, Sky looked up from the sofa. "I hear you."
"What?" Vicky asked.
"You smiling."
"I wasn't smiling."
"You like him."
Tyreek grinned, and Vicky shot him a look. "I have a son your age. Don't encourage her."
"I ain't said nothing."
"You smiled."
"Because you called me brave."
Sky folded her arms. "Mm-hmm."
Even Teresa managed a small laugh from beneath her blanket. The sound surprised all of them. Teresa slowly pulled the cover away from her face.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"For what?" Vicky asked.
"I shouldn't be laughing."
"You don't have to apologize for that."
Teresa looked toward the floor. "I keep seeing her. I closed my eyes and..." Her voice cracked. "I still see her."
Vicky crossed the room and sat beside her.
Without saying anything she wrapped an arm around Teresa's shoulders as Teresa leaned into her and cried. Sky lowered her head, Tyreek looked away, and Darius stayed near the windows, staring into the darkness outside as rain pounded the glass. He didn’t pay attention to the voices behind him.
"You know..." Tyreek said, his voice low. "I don't wanna die in this damn house. And I don’t think this house wants us here. If these walls could talk, I bet you it’s screaming at us. Get the fuck out!"
The room looked at him, and for a beat there was nothing but the steady drum of rain against the windows before Sky let out a small, unexpected laugh that broke the tension, soft and almost disbelieving, and it spread quickly — Vicky followed with a quiet chuckle, shaking her head, and even Teresa, still wiping tears from her cheeks, managed a fragile laugh of her own, the sound uneven but real, like a brief, flickering reminder that they were still human in the middle of everything unraveling around them.
Tyreek looked offended. "What's funny?"
"You said it like this house is alive," Sky said.
Tyreek pointed toward the ceiling. "After today? I think this bitch is haunted."
A few more tired laughs filled the room, and for a brief moment they sounded like ordinary people again, but the illusion shattered when lightning flashed and thunder cracked so violently that the windows rattled, snuffing out the laughter as quickly as it had come.
Darius checked the locks and windows, then the balcony doors.
"You think somebody's coming?" Sky asked.
"No."
"Then why you keep checking?"
He looked at her. "Because somebody is already here."
Nobody had a response to that, so Darius returned to his post near the door before heading off to check on Celeste, who was seated at the desk in the surveillance control room.
Celeste sat quietly, watching old and new surveillance footage on one monitor while keeping an eye on the live hallway and perimeter feeds on the others, flipping through her notes as she worked.
Then she froze. Her head slowly lifted and she walked out among her team.
"I have a radio."
Darius looked at her.
"And a gun."
He frowned. "What about them?"
"They're in my car."
Another roll of thunder shook the suite and Sky sat up. "You can't go out there," she said.
"I need that radio."
"We got phones."
"They're dead."
Nobody argued.
"We need to know what's happening outside this mansion."
Darius stepped away from the door. "I'll go."
"No."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You don't even know how bad it is out there."
Celeste stood. "I'm the detective."
"And I'm trying to keep you alive."
Their eyes met.
Celeste stood there in her tennis skirt and heels, her posture straight and unshaken, her chest rising slow and steady, not a flicker of hesitation crossing her face — like the storm outside had nothing on her — while Darius held her gaze, searching for doubt, for fear, for anything that might convince him to stop her, but finding none as the silence stretched between them and nobody spoke.
“You’re half dressed,” Darius reminded her.
Celeste sighed. "You should see the rest of my clothes. I’ll be fine." She put her notebook on the coffee table and continued, "but I have to do this."
"You shouldn't go alone." He didn't like it one bit.
"I'll be fine."
"You don't know that."
A small smile touched her lips. "You worry too much."
"No. I’ve seen too much."
She grabbed her jacket. "I've trained for this. If I'm not back in ten minutes, you can come get me. No need to panic."
"I'm already panicking," Sky said.
Celeste looked at Darius. "Keep everybody together."
He nodded.
"Nobody leaves this room or opens this door."
"I got it."
She held his gaze for another second, something unspoken passing between them — a fragile thread of trust forming in the middle of chaos, unexpected and maybe too quick, but real enough to make her chest tighten before she finally tore her eyes away from his face, his strong arms, and the thick print forming down his thigh that nobody else seemed to notice.
But she did, and she looked at the others.
"Lock this door behind me," she demanded.
Thunder shook the mansion again, rattling the chandelier in the hallway beyond the suite.
Celeste pulled the door open and was met by the long, dim corridor that stretched the length of the upper floor. The lights overhead flickered weakly, casting uneven shadows across the patterned carpet and the framed portraits lining the walls — faces that seemed to watch her as she stepped out.
Cold air seeped in through cracks somewhere deeper in the house, carrying the distant howl of wind and the steady drum of rain against the far windows. The storm wasn't just outside — it felt like it had already found its way in.
She paused just beyond the threshold, glancing back at them one last time.
"Lock it."
Darius nodded, already reaching for the handle.
Celeste turned and started down the hallway, her footsteps soft but echoing in the quiet.
The corridor bent ahead, leading toward the grand staircase and the main foyer below — the only way out of the mansion.
Lightning flashed through a tall window at the far end, briefly illuminating the entire stretch of hall in stark white before plunging it back into shadow.
Behind her, the suite door shut, the lock clicked and Darius stood there for a moment longer than necessary, staring at the closed door, listening to her footsteps fade into the distance.
He hadn't looked worried all night. He looked worried now.