Page 48 of Double Obsession

“I guess you guys just missed me, eh?” He rubbed Buddy between the ears and exhaled gratitude. Who cared that he was out with the old? His dog seemed fine now—and that was all that really mattered.

****

After a thunderstorm cut their walk short, Hunter sat between his dogs and chugged his third beer. The buzz hit hard and fast since his stomach was empty, and he was exhausted. Damn! If only someone would restock his cupboards with sprouted grain bread and peanut butter.

A lightning strike hit close by, and Lizzie shook. Good thing ol’ Buddy was practically deaf. However, moments later, the Border collie also quaked.

“It’s okay, guys,” Hunter cooed. “Just a spring storm. Nothing to be afraid of.”

When his phone pinged and a message from Jenna came in, he forced his eyes to focus.

My daughter is home safe. Maybe, if you want, I could call you tomorrow morning and fill you in. I had a fabulous time with you. Absolutely magical. Thank you for making me feel beautiful, sexy, and alive!

He rewrote his message a half dozen times, trying to cover up his fuzzy brain.You are beautiful and sexy. Glad she is okay. I’ll be waiting. Call me.

He’d give her time to deal with her daughter, then he’d send her something sexy. Since his battery read two percent, he rooted in his bag in search of the charger. He had just grasped the cord when a bestial shriek rang out.

Lizzie popped onto all fours and howled.

He tossed his phone on the coffee table. It took him forever to conquer his rubbery muscles and push his slouched body into an upright position.

Like something out of a horror movie, the piercing yowl became more desperate and urgent. Even the hearing-impaired Buddy had been alerted that something was wrong. Both dogs howled like mourning wolves.

With his pack at his heels, Hunter left the living room to investigate the source of the wailing. After a fruitless search of the second and third floors, Lizzie stuck her nose in his knees and herded him to the basement door. Thunder cracked, she whimpered, anddread filled Hunter as a screech from his cellar rose and fell with the intensity of hurricane-force gusts smashing into a rocky shore.

“What the hell is down there?” he asked his shaking dogs. The only time he’d ever heard sounds like that was when a feral cat had nested under his parents’ trailer.

Of course! Hunter clutched his ribs and laughed. He had no idea where his butleress was, but her cat seemed to have found its way to the lowest level of his house to wait out the storm.

He opened the cellar door and peered into the blackness.

Nails clicked on wood as something with a glow-in-the-dark-tipped tail retreated down the stairs.

“Stay here,” he told Lizzie and Buddy. “There’s no Freddy Krueger in the basement. It’s just a scared cat.”

The old fluorescent bulb at the top of the stairwell didn’t do much to light his path. He would have grabbed his phone and used the flashlight app, but his alcohol-infused brain couldn’t figure out how to retrieve the device from the living room when he was halfway to the basement. Besides, the device was almost dead.

Navigating cast-off furniture and piles of wood and brick, Hunter trailed the cat to the old furnace. Ducts shot out of the monstrous appliance like an alien’s tentacles. Thunder cracked, and the ancient house vibrated. Lighting flashes shot through the top of the underground window, adding to the eerie ambiance.

A figure caught his eye and he stumbled into a dilapidated table. Realizing he’d been scared shitless by his reflection in a cracked mirror, he chuckled. Some part of him was still the fourteen-year-old Hunter who had watched too many horror movies and wanted to flee to his bedroom and hide under the blankets. However, he shook off his disquiet and continued to chase the damn animal.

Following a crash of thunder, the cat hunkered down behind a rusty pipe and hissed.

“Come here, kitty, kitty.” Hunter reached for the terrified animal. “It’s dangerous down here. Let’s go upstairs.”

A chewed-up paw swung out from hiding and swatted at his hand.

Although his current circumstances had almost cured his brain of its drugged haze, his body still moved in slow motion, and he didn’t pull his hand away in time to avoid a scratched finger.

“Shit!” He examined the bloody scrape.

“He’s a miserable animal. Did he hurt you?” someone asked from the shadows.

When Hunter jumped to standing, he hit his hip on the damn table. “Fuck!” He rubbed out the sting as he faced an Amazonian woman with a crescent-shaped birthmark that consumed the entirety of her cheek.

He rubbed his eyes.

A row of uneven brown teeth appeared when the homely woman smiled. “Hi, Hunter Stone. Did I startle you?” she asked in a monotone voice.