19. Presley
Presley
By the time Penny and I get home, I've decided I'm never watching another horror movie.
Ever.
I unlock the front door and push it open. “Come on.”
Penny trots inside like she hasn't spent the last few hours cheating on me with Gracie and Walter.
I close the door behind us and lock it. Then check it once. Because I'm not going to be weird about this.
My thoughts flash back to what happened in the bookstore.
The storage-room door stuck. That's what old wooden doors do.
The footsteps were probably the building settling.
The book fell because the shelves shifted. The wooden floor in the old building isn’t exactly level.
And the shadow I thought I saw outside the window?
It was just someone walking past the store.
All perfectly reasonable explanations.
I shrug out of my coat and hang it beside the door. Penny’s nails click on the floor as she wanders into the living room.
“Did you have fun?”
Her tail wags.
I follow her.
“Did Gracie give you treats?”
More wagging.
“Thought so.” I narrow my eyes. “How many?”
She drops onto the rug in front of the fireplace.
I sigh. “That’s answer enough. I’m gonna have a talk with Miss Gracie.”
Penny sighs.
I turn on a lamp, then start a fire.
Within a few minutes, flames crackle behind the grate. The familiar scent of woodsmoke fills the room. I breathe it in.
It smells like home.
And safety.
My mind immediately goes to Hades.
The way the storage-room door finally opened to reveal him standing on the other side.
The second I saw him, everything inside me broke.
I didn't think.
Didn't ask what he was doing there.
Didn't even say hello.
I just threw myself at him.
My face heats. “God. How embarrassing.”
Penny looks at me.
“I practically tackled him.”
She stretches.
“And cried on him.”
Her tail taps the rug.
“Do you think he noticed?”
Penny stares at me.
“Right. Stupid question.”
Of course he noticed.
For fuck’s sake, I buried my face against his chest while he held me and tried to convince me I wasn't going to die inside a bookstore storage room.
I close my eyes, hearing his voice inside my head.
I've got you.
Three simple words.
But the way he said them, it was like he meant them.
Like nothing could touch me while his arms were around me.
I liked that feeling far too much.
But then he vanished... and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
On one hand, I didn't need him watching me retrieve my emotional-support dachshund because a temperamental door sent me into a complete breakdown.
On the other, he didn’t even say goodnight.
Penny lets out a little huff. I stare at her, realizing I spoke those words aloud.
“Sorry.”
She puts her head down.
“You’re my very important emotional-support dachshund.”
Her tail moves.
“Feel better?”
Another thump.
I laugh and grab the remote.
“Tonight, we're watching something normal. Absolutely no masked killers.”
Or haunted houses.
Or stalkers.
Or women running upstairs when the front door is six feet away.
I find a romantic comedy. “Perfect.”
Penny jumps onto the couch.
I settle beneath the blanket and pull her against me.
For the next two hours, nobody gets stabbed.
Nobody gets murdered.
Or lurks outside a window.
Or wears a mask.
It's wonderful.
The credits roll sometime after eleven.
I yawn and stretch. “Bedtime.”
Penny jumps down.
I turn off the television, make sure the fire has burned down safely, then switch off the lamp.
Penny heads toward the stairs.
I follow.
Halfway across the foyer, I stop.
My gaze moves to the front door. I already locked it. I know I did.
But I feel the urge to check it anyway.
Penny starts up the stairs.
“Keep going. I'm just double-checking the lock.”
She stops.
“Go on. It’s okay.”
Penny looks at me for another second before continuing.
I walk toward the door, grab the knob, and turn it.
It’s locked.
Just as I thought.
“See? You’re being silly.”
I reach for the light switch—and freeze.
Movement catches my eye.
My hand remains suspended beside the switch as I blink at the window.
Something is outside.
No.
Someone.
My heart slams against my ribs.
A masked, pale face stares at me through the glass.
I scream.
Penny's barking erupts behind me.
I spin around.
She comes flying down the stairs, ears flapping as she runs.
“Penny!”
She races toward me.
I scoop her up and turn back toward the window.
Nothing.
The porch is empty.
Beyond it, darkness stretches across the yard.
My eyes dart around, searching for the masked man.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
There was someone there. I know there was.
I saw a mask.
I step closer to the window. Penny squirms in my arms.
“Stop.”
I don't know whether I'm talking to her or myself.
I look through the glass, staring into the darkness.
Nothing moves.
The porch light illuminates the steps and part of the yard. Beyond that, trees blur together in the darkness.
But I don’t see anyone.
I release a shaky breath. “Someone was there, Penny. I’m not crazy.”
Penny whines.
“I know.”
I press my cheek against the top of her head.
“Or maybe I’m losing my mind.”
This is just like the footsteps and fallen book in the bookstore. Just my imagination.
I’m still freaked out from being stuck in the storage room.
That's all this is.
I came home and spent two hours thinking about how ridiculous I acted.
My brain took all that anxiety and turned it into the shape of a masked man.
I look outside again.
Still nothing.
“We’re okay.”
Penny's body remains tense.
“There's nobody there.”
Her ears twitch.
“Come on. Maybe we just need a good night’s sleep.”
I turn away from the window.
Every instinct tells me to look back.
I don't.
Instead, I carry Penny upstairs, fighting the urge to look over my shoulder.
I pull my sweater and jeans off quickly, then yank on my pajamas.
Normally, I'd stand in front of the mirror and brush my hair.
But I skip it tonight.
Instead, I sit on the edge of the bed.
Penny circles twice before settling against my pillows.
I stare at the floor.
There wasn't anyone outside.
I know that.
Except I don't.
That's the problem.
The image is so clear in my mind.
For one split second, I saw a white face staring through the darkness.
My gaze slowly moves toward the bedroom window. “No.”
Penny lifts her head.
“I’m not looking.”
She stares at me.
“Because that's what stupid people do.”
I climb beneath the covers, then reach for the lamp.
But I stop.
The window is right there.
I should close the curtains and go to sleep.
Except if I walk over there and look outside and see someone—
Don't.
I stare at the window.
My heart begins beating faster. “This is ridiculous.”
I throw the covers back.
Penny watches me climb from the bed.
“I'm just closing the curtains.”
Her head lowers again.
I take one step toward the window, then another. My bare feet make almost no sound against the floor.
The closer I get, the more I want to turn around.
I don't.
I reach the window. My fingers grip the curtain.
Don't look.
But I don’t listen.
My breath stutters in my lungs when I lay eyes on him.
A man stands at the edge of the porch light near the tree.
He's tall and broad. A black hoodie covers his head. He’s dressed entirely in black.
I can’t move.
Can't breathe.
Can't scream.
My gaze trails over him, as though convincing myself he’s real.
He’s wearing black boots.
His hands hang loosely at his sides, with no sign of a weapon.
Not that he’d need one. His sheer size alone is enough to easily overpower me.
My mouth goes dry as my gaze moves to the mask covering his face.
It’s bone-white against the darkness. Deep black hollows surround the eyes, spreading outward in jagged shadows. Sharp cheekbones make the face look almost skeletal, while the distorted mouth sits somewhere between a grimace and a smile.
Human enough to recognize as a face. Wrong enough to make every survival instinct inside me scream.
And even from this distance, his head is tilted, staring at me.
A scream tears from my throat.
Penny jumps to her feet and erupts into the type of barking that makes her sound much more vicious than she is.
I stumble backward. “No.”
The man doesn't move.
My hands shake. “No. You're not real.”
He just stands there, unmoving. Watching me.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
You're imagining this.
The storage room scared me.
I've watched too many horror movies.
I'm exhausted.
It’s only my imagination.
I open my eyes.
He's still there.
“Oh my God.”
Penny races toward the window, barking.
I grab her before she reaches it. “No!”
I pull her against my chest.
The man remains at the edge of the woods.
Watching.
Waiting.
For what, I’m not sure.
But it’s exactly like the masked killer in the horror movie I recently watched.
“No.”
I close my eyes again.
“One... two... three.”
I open them.
He's still fucking there.
My stomach drops.
He's real.
This is real.
Everything that’s been freaking me out lately suddenly makes sense.
Oh God.
My eyes burn, but I don’t blink.
“Who are you?” I scream through the window.
His head slowly tilts.
A chill rips through me.
Penny growls against my chest.
Then the man moves, taking a step toward the house.
My heart stops.
Then another.
“No.”
He keeps coming closer, moving slowly, like he has all the time in the world.
Like he knows I'm not going anywhere.
I back away from the window.
My gaze darts toward the nightstand.
My phone.
I whip around and snatch it up.
Penny jumps from my arms, landing on the bed.
My fingers shake so badly I nearly drop it. “Come on.”
The screen lights up.
I try to enter my passcode, but I keep hitting the wrong numbers.
“Fuck.”
I try again.
Finally, the phone unlocks.
My fingers punch in 9-1-1.
Right before I hit the call button, I look toward the window.
He's gone.
I stop breathing.
“Where did he go?”
I move closer to the window, one cautious step at a time. As if he might suddenly pop up in front of the second-floor window.
My phone is clutched in my hand.
Nothing.
The property is empty.
I scan the trees.
Nothing.
I finally exhale.
“Is he... on the porch? By the front door?”
I look around my room for a weapon. I don’t have anything except for an old tennis racket in the corner of the room.
I grab it, then face the door.
Penny stands beside me, growling.
“We have to do this.”
I glance down at Penny. She stares up at me.
“On three.”
The first step into the hallway is the worst. My knees shake, as though he’s waiting right there.
I flip the light switch on.
Nothing.
I keep going, the racket raised over my shoulder. My sweaty hand clutches my phone. I move down the steps and through the foyer to the front door, my eyes darting around.
Nothing.
I peer through the window where I first saw him.
No mask.
No black-clothed man.
Relief fills me as I release a shaky breath.
I move around the first floor, turning all the lights on, looking out every window.
My last stop is the back door.
I check the door first. It’s locked.
“Okay, Penny. On the count of three.”
She stands there, like a little warrior ready for battle.
“One... two... three.”
I flick the switch.
Light illuminates the patio.
Nothing.
No sign anyone’s been here.
I search the backyard.
It’s empty.
My fingers are poised over my phone.
I should call the police and tell them there’s a masked man outside my house.
Except he's gone.
What if they come and find nothing?
What if this really is some elaborate hallucination brought on by grief, exhaustion, horror movies, and getting trapped in a storage room?
I turn off the light, then slowly move back to the front door. The porch light is on, because I’m too chicken to sleep with it off.
But I don’t see anyone.
Penny growls again.
My gaze drops to her. “You saw him, too.”
She stares toward the woods.
My stomach turns. “Didn't you?”
Her ears remain raised. That does absolutely nothing to make me feel better.
I move to the living room windows to close the curtains.
And I swear, at the edge of the woods, a tree branch shakes. Like someone brushed against it.
I check the window locks before closing the curtains.
I keep the lamp on. There’s no fucking way I'm creeping through the dark tonight.
My eyes search the downstairs one last time before I lock my phone and ease my grip on the racket.
Penny follows behind me as I climb the stairs, heading to bed.
I close the bedroom door behind me and lock it.
But the second I put my hand on it and turn, it opens.
“Ugh! Stupid old house.”
I try again.
Same result.
“Dammit.”
I reassure myself that the doors downstairs are locked and leave the door closed. I try to drag the wooden dresser toward it, but it’s too heavy.
With a sigh, my eyes go to the window.
My legs feel wooden as I move toward it.
I hold my breath as I peer out of it.
But he’s not there.
I yank the curtains closed, then climb beneath the covers and pull Penny against me.
My phone stays in my hand.
I stare at the closed door, the lamp filling the room with warm light.
But it does nothing to calm me.
My mind races.
Should I call Gracie?
Margaret?
Stella?
I could call the police. But they’d probably think I was crazy if they came here and didn’t find anyone.
Another name enters my mind. Hades.
The thought hits so hard my chest aches.
I wish I had his number.
Even though I barely know him.
He shouldn't be the person I want right now.
But he is.
I want to hear his deep, steady voice telling me I'm okay.
I want him to say those three words again. I've got you.
When Hades held me earlier, I felt completely safe.
I tighten my arm around Penny and stare at the door.
Right now, I'd give anything to feel that way again.