Chapter 9
Nine
It’s been a month since my boss’s murder.
George’s family took over Angelo’s, but later sold it to a corporate entity. Although I understand their desire to distance themselves from the business, the new management abruptly laid off or reassigned many of the employees to other companies. Maryanne was deeply impacted by this transition. She busted her ass for over a decade, and unceremoniously dropping her with paltry benefits is a real shit move.
So much for loyalty.
After the incident, I couldn’t bring myself to return to Angelo’s—not after everything that happened. Luckily, Kyla recommended me for a job at Arbor Spins, and I secured employment there. Working at the record store has been much more enjoyable than persuading people to buy overpriced jewelry. Now, I can persuade customers to purchase band merchandise and promote the hottest new albums instead.
Kyla and I have grown closer. It’s been a blast to have one-on-one conversations with her. Like me, she’s super into music. Interestingly, she claims to live a transient existence, as she calls it, apparently not sticking to the same place for more than a year. Perhaps one day we could both venture to California and escape from here.
I’d say her major flaws are her taste in men and her love of horror movies—more so the former than the latter.
We can’t all be perfect, after all.
Tonight, Kyla is keeping me company. Mom’s working late again, and Austin is staying over with friends—a typical weekend situation in this house. Having a friend over feels nice, like a slumber party with more alcohol. We’ve transformed the living room into a cozy fort with blankets, pillows, and an abundance of unhealthy snacks.
I mash the buttons on my controller, kicking and punching as fast as I can to beat Kyla in Street Fighter II. We both do not know how to play, but we’ve been enjoying trying out Austin’s video games. After multiple tied rounds, I stand up to stretch, and Kyla shoots me a crooked grin before popping a couple pieces of buttered popcorn into her mouth.
“That was fun,” she says after swallowing. “We need to beat each other’s faces in more often.”
I snicker in agreement. “It’s definitely therapeutic,” I say, before I go to head to the kitchen. “You hungry? We have frozen pizza.”
“Sounds great. I could use some actual food, anyway.” As I pass by, she gently grabs my arm. I resist recoiling, hoping that she doesn’t notice the strained half-smile I force. “Seriously, though … I enjoy hanging out with you. Like, we get each other. In a weird way. But Grace, if there’s anything you want to talk about, feel free to.”
The genuine kindness in her voice chips away at my shields. “Thank you. I feel the same.”
“Not trying to be a downer or anything,” she adds. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you need to talk. But if you’d rather just relax and stuff our faces with junk, then that’s okay too. No pressure.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I appreciate it.”
She lets me go to occupy herself by practicing combos with Chun-Li as I go to the kitchen. I open the freezer and scan its contents, finding two boxes of pizza. “Hey, Kyla. We have two choices: pepperoni or three cheese. Pick your poison.”
“Cheese,” she answers, engrossed in her match against the computer.
I roll my eyes playfully as I turn on the oven to preheat. Leaning against the counter, I let my gaze wander to the window. Shadows bend and creep around the yard, causing a shard of fear to slice through my chest. At least the medication helps take the edge off any intrusive thoughts.
Unfortunately, it’s currently beyond our budget to install a security system. But Mom agreed to get the locks changed. Fortunately, there hasn’t been a murder in the area since George, so I’ve been feeling less anxious overall.
Maybe that psycho got bored with Ashburn and finally skipped town—that’s what I’m hoping, anyway. The thought of being stalked, harassed, and assaulted again fills me with terror and dread. It took weeks for me to stop sleeping with a weapon by my side every night. To keep my mind from going down a terrible road, I return to the living room and sit down on the couch next to Kyla.
“So, before I forget to ask, Briar’s birthday is in a couple of weeks.”
I raise a brow, and she continues, “He wants to go to this popular club over in Hillwood. I talked it over with him, and he says he wouldn’t mind if you tag along. And your boy toy, too.”
I’m not a big fan of crowds and loud music, but I know I need to get out of my comfort zone more often. Live a little. “Normally, clubs are not my scene. But I’ll make an exception since it’s you and all.”
She chuckles. “That’s the spirit. It’ll be a double date then.”
“We can work out our schedules come Monday, and—” The sound of the doorbell cuts me off. “Hold that thought.” I hurry to the foyer and answer the door. It’s Luke, taking me by surprise. “Oh, hey. I didn’t expect you to come over this late.”
He smiles and rubs the nape of his neck, looking sheepish. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was in the area, so I wanted to come by and check on you. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He steals a curious peek around me before going in for a hug.
“Nothing super pressing’s going on,” I say, leaning into his touch. “Just hanging out with a friend from work.”
“Oh?” He perks up at the prospect. “I’m glad you’re being more social. I was worried about you for a good while there, if I’m being honest.”
“I’m in the middle of making pizza. We’ve got the Super Nintendo fired up on the big screen.” I tilt my head toward the living room. “You’re welcome to chill with us for a while. I’m sure Kyla wouldn’t mind. She’s been wanting to meet you, anyway.”
“I would, but I have groceries in the car. Perishables. Gotta get those into the fridge.” He plants a kiss on my lips. “You two have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“We won’t,” I say, returning the kiss. “Drive safely. Call me tomorrow.”
He nods and treks back to his vehicle. I stand in the foyer, staring after Luke like a lovestruck idiot as he pulls out of the driveway and disappears down the road. I pry myself from my trance long enough to shut the door and attend to the pizza.
“I see the boyfriend retreated again,” Kyla remarks.
I pop the pizza in the oven and set the timer. “Be nice. He’s just shy, that’s all.” I grab a glass from the cupboard, swipe a cold can of cola from the fridge, and fix myself up a homemade highball. “He’ll probably agree to the double date, so you’ll get to meet him then.”
I hear her snort in amusement as I take a swig of my drink.
“Ever the elusive one,” she mutters.
I hang out in the living room, observing Kyla’s attempts to clear the arcade mode when the timer beeps. After turning off the oven, I slide the pan out and search the drawers for a pizza cutter, muttering some curses as my stomach growls. After a minute, I’m about to throw in the towel when I spot the utensil in the sink. Dirty. Of course.
“Give me a second,” I say to Kyla. “Austin used the damn pizza cutter again, and?—”
I shriek as the lights go out.
“Shit,” Kyla yells. “Are you okay, Grace? Where’s your emergency kit? With all the flashlights and stuff?”
My tongue feels like lead as I hope and pray that this power outage is an act of God—and not that fucking freak show trying to screw with me again. I take a moment to calm myself, breathing in and out through my nose to avoid hyperventilating. “I’ll go get it.”
I cautiously make my way to the hall, locating the closet and rummaging through the supplies and other items. I find the emergency kit tucked in the corner on the middle shelf, grab it, kick the door closed, and head for the living room.
But I don’t find anyone there.
“Kyla?” I say, my voice shaky. The only sources of light come from the surrounding houses and the slivers of moonlight that sneak in through the blinds. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” she replies.
After setting the emergency kit on the coffee table, I grab a flashlight. I click it on, but the light is weak. I tap it, hoping to revive it, but the battery seems nearly drained. Frustration builds within me as I search the kit for a fresh pack of batteries. Suddenly, Kyla appears beside me, making my heart leap into my throat.
“Fuck!” I cry out. “You scared me half to death.” It’s only now that I realize she’s holding a knife, one that I’m sure she took from the knife block in the kitchen. “What’s that for?”
“Just in case,” she answers, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I don’t wanna spook you or anything, but …” She gestures outside toward one of the neighbors. “We’re the only house without power. I don’t want to assume the worst, but if someone cut the electricity …”
I fumble with the batteries, swapping out only one of the two old ones before a crash sounds from deeper in the house. My eyes dart warily around the room and down the hall toward the basement.
“Please tell me that’s a rat or something,” Kyla murmurs, squeezing the hilt of the knife for dear life.
My stomach twists into a knot. The lingering smell of popcorn and pizza—and that damn misguided highball—makes me want to hurl. “I don’t know. I … I hope it’s not that serial killer,” I blurt out, the words coming before I can stop them.
It’s too late now. I can’t shove the suggestion back into the box. With the boldness of an action movie hero—or the foolishness of a horror movie character—Kyla springs into action. She brandishes the knife and strides toward the basement.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice thick with apprehension.
“I’m going to investigate.” She motions to the flashlight, and I switch the other battery and toss it to her. “Get that other one fixed up and keep any medical supplies on hand. If I don’t come back …”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” I bite out.
She gives me a small, reassuring smile. “Stay here and don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”
“Thank you,” I squeak, pathetic as a mouse as she opens the door to the basement and vanishes down the stairs.
I change out the batteries on the second flashlight and work on doing the same for the third when I hear the front door creak open. Momentarily, I become rooted to the spot, my knees wobbly. I want to speak, to ask who’s there. Against my better judgment, I flip on the flashlight and shine the beam into the hall. My pulse quickens, and I wipe a clammy palm on my shorts.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening …
Tightly gripping the flashlight, I cautiously make my way into the hall. “Is anyone there?” I ask, my voice shrill with fear, dreading a response. My leg muscles tense as I approach the foyer. The sound of wind chimes from the neighbor’s porch startles me, causing me to hesitate before poking my head outside.
Nothing but darkness.
I’m about to shut the door—when a hand snatches my wrist and pulls me outside. I try to scream, but a gloved palm covers my mouth, and I’m quickly moved out of sight on the porch. My captor holds me in a tight embrace and strokes my hair in a mockingly soothing manner. I tremble, too scared to look up.
Because I already know who it is.
“I didn’t see anyone down there,” Kyla says as she returns from the basement. “It was probably just an animal.”
“An animal?” he whispers, clucking his tongue in disapproval. “That’s not a very gracious thing to say to your guests.”
The voice of the monster that has terrorized my existence and haunted my nightmares makes me nauseous. I want to dig my nails into his flesh or blind him with the flashlight, but I’m powerless against his strength. I can’t even speak properly, my words stifled.
Kyla appears out of nowhere, like a savior sent from heaven, and I silently thank her sharp instincts. “Who the fuck are you?” she snaps, pointing her knife at the killer.
He eyes the weapon and laughs, the sound derisive. “Wouldn’t you like to know, sweetheart?” His facade turns on a dime, his tone shifting to that of an eerie, vicious calmness. “You’ll know soon enough.” Then, violently, he pushes me toward her and tears out of the property.
Kyla lets out a frustrated growl of anger as if she wants to give chase, but he vanishes into the night. I whimper, tears sneaking down my cheeks. Her hardened expression softens, and she kneels, gathering me into her arms. I sob, releasing all the emotions I’ve pent up.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
Soon, my sobbing turns to full-blown weeping. She holds me until my crying subsides into quiet sniffles, then pulls away slightly as I wipe my eyes, fatigue weighing down my lids.
She’s silent for a moment before standing up. “I’ll take care of the fuse box. In the meantime, you call that damn boyfriend of yours and get his ass over here.”
I swallow and nod, then she heads back to the basement. I drag myself to my feet and head to the phone, dialing Luke’s number and listening to it ring before he finally picks up.
“Hello?”
“Luke, it’s Grace. I …”
“Are you okay? You sound upset. Did something happen?”
I feel my lower lip quiver as I struggle to maintain a semblance of composure. “Yes, something happened. But I’m okay. Can you come over and stay the night?”
The power flickers back on as Luke replies.
“Of course. I’ll take care of you, Grace.”