Page 74 of Denial
“Have a good night,” Clayton replies.
“Thanks for the ride.” I tap a tip in the app and switch over to my text messages.
His golden headlights pool over the street behind me, taking the remainder of the light with him as he goes. The purr of his engine reduces to a whisper in the quiet night.
The text cursor blinks sluggishly in Whitney’s thread. With one hand, I type out a shaky message while I dig my keys from my pocket with the other. After a long night of dancing, my quads protest climbing the short steps to my house.
Me:
Hey, girl. Dropped off safe and sound. I’m walking in now |
My keys clatteragainst the porch landing.
“Shit.” The curse word reverberates through the quiet.
Bending down gives me a head rush. Tucking my phone in my armpit, I retrieve my keys, being mindful not to drop anything else. My hair flutters around my face as I return upright, not assisting my ability to see in the dark.
I reach for the storm door, but before my fingers connect, the wooden interior door rips open, groaning loudly. The screen door is shoved in my face, the force of it pitches me back toward the stairs. Pain explodes behind my eye and across my nose. Heavy, thudding footsteps jog down the steps. Warmth slicks down my face, spilling into my left eye. It’s hot and sticky, and it burns.
A scream escapes my lungs. My arms wheel wildly. I manage to wrap my fingers tightly around a rung in the banister. A splinter pierces my skin, and my shoulder pinches in the socket, but I stop myself from falling backward down the stairs. I lick blood from my lips as a pulse throbs in my nose. My head rests against the railing with a soft tap.
“Oh my god.”
My heart slams against my ribs. Adrenaline injects into my veins, propelling me to my feet. I slip on tired legs, chest heavingbeneath anxious breaths. I search the street, still reeling from whatever just happened to me. The road is empty. I’m alone.
My teeth gnash as I force down a swallow. Sandpaper coats my throat.
The still-lit screen of my phone is a beacon, guiding me to it on the second step from the top. The cursor blinks on the unsent message to Whit, frozen in time.
I push my hair out of my face to see better. My hand comes away wet, glistening in the glow of my cell. It’s not hair impeding my vision. It’s blood. Streaks of red coat my hand. Tenderly prodding my face locates a gash just above my left eyebrow that’s still producing a steady stream.
I swipe away from the text and move to my call list. Blood smeared bands follow my fingers across the screen. Whitney’s number is near the top, just below Sutton’s.
Sutton.
My fingers slip, the capacitive touchscreen not reading the pressure. I grunt in frustration and frantically wipe my hands and phone on my clothing. The material isn’t absorbent enough. The touchscreen still won’t work, damaged from the drop or the blood.
Figure it out later.I need to get to safetynow.
My mind blanks. With my phone clutched in my hand, I run across the front lawn. My new boots slip across the damp grass. I pump my arms in an all-out sprint, tracing the way to the house I’ve walked to and from more than a dozen times. The adrenaline starts to burn off. My lungs cinch. A new ache grows in my side, but I don’t stop. I run past houses with darkened windows. Past barking dogs. My boots are loud on the pavement in the dead of night.
A voice whispers that I might not be alone. That whoever was in my house might follow. I push harder. Every exhale is followed by a keen as the lock on my emotions starts to crumble.
There.
His house is close. Only a few driveways to go.
Three.
Two.
I lick blood from my lips and turn left toward the familiar black truck. The yellow porch light beckons me up the front steps. I collide with the door. It’s locked. It’s past midnight, maybe even later. Of course it’s locked.
Merit howls loudly from the other side of the door. Her barking increases in alarm.
My hands shake against the keypad. Red smudges stick to the numbers I touch, revealing the digits used in the code. I’ll have to remember to clean it off later. The alarm beeps, warning me I got it wrong.
I stab the button to clear and retry.
