“Oh, yes,yes.”There was a sound of slapping, like meat dropped on a butcher’s tray. I rubbed my hands over my face and pressed my palms against my eye sockets. “Yes, cowboy.”
Great, just when I thought the fuck show that was my life couldn’t get any worse. My mother was dead. My father had disowned me. The love of my life had cheated on me. I’d lost my best friend. Now theDebbie Does Dallasaudio was flooding my room.
I rolled to my side and tucked my knees up to my chest. Streetlights swam through threadbare burgundy curtains, leaving the room awash in a bloody hue. Emptiness gutted me. The warm burn of tears slipped down my cheeks. I let them fall silently to the pillow beneath my head, my despair engraved in its fabric, like the predictive scrawling of a doomsayer’s reading.
Chapter 4
Night Creeps
Something dragged me from my sleep.
A rattling sound.
Like a handle being shaken on a door.
Wake up.
Feeling groggy and struggling to fully awaken, I dragged my eyes open. My eyelids felt like they were made of steel, and I blinked several times, trying not to succumb to the lure of sleep. Slowly the layers of the dark cleared. My gaze shifted to the door; it was closed. The curtains hung still.
I lay flat on my back, listening for sound. The fridge rattled. From somewhere outside a car door snapped shut. Boots clip-clopped across the asphalt car park. The sound, if there even was a sound, probably came from someone opening their room door. Nothing to worry about. Exhausted, I let my leaden eyes close.
A grating sound, like a window being jimmied, came from the other side of the room.
Someone’s trying to get in.
My eyes bolted open. Gasping, I jerked up. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared across the room towards the bathroom.
A warm breeze whispered against my cheeks, like a breath blowing on my face. Goosebumps rose across my entire body.
The bathroom door was wide open. From inside I could make out the vague shape of the vanity. The sheer curtains on the window billowed in and out, writhing like specters.
A wave of panic drained the blood from my head. Awash with light-headedness and shaking, I looked at the side table for my phone, but I must have left it in the car. I climbed out of bed and stood frozen, hovering on the border of indecision.
I tried to remember if the window was open when I arrived. I didn’t notice it, but then I fell straight to sleep, so maybe it was?
It’s nothing,I told myself.The cleaner probably left the window open to let some fresh air in.
The other half of my brain, the conquering half, imagined a man lurking in the bathroom, waiting for me to walk in. My heart ratcheted up even more. I glanced longingly at the front door. There were five yards between me and safety. Then what would I do, run to the closed office and call the after-hours emergency number? Wake up the grumpy old hag who’d booked me in and get her to come and check it out, like a child? Christ. There was no one there, of course there was no one in my bathroom.The cleaner must have left the window open,I repeated to myself. To prove this all I had to do was walk forward and look in.
Swallowing, I forced my legs to move.My breath pumped thinly out of my lips. Blood pulsed through my skull. I paused just outside the door. The moonlight strobed through the sheer veil, now resting still against the window frame.
It’s nothing,I reiterated.Just go in and shut the damn window.
The veils swayed, and I twitched at the sight of the movement, the breeze rolling over my face and arms.
It’s just the breeze.
I took a small step, stopping inside the doorway. I glanced nervously to the left, where an old bath and shower hugged thefar corner. A white curtain draped over the side, cloaking the man I believed was standing behind it. Just like the shower scenes in horror movies. A lump formed in my throat; my mouth was hot and dry. I looked back at the window. It was only up a few inches, not far enough for anyone to climb through. Of course, no one was breaking in. Just like no one was standing behind the curtain. What a damned fool I was.
Stop being a wuss and move over and check, Amy. Then you can go back to sleep.
I took one step, then another, the tiles cool beneath my bare feet as I fought every instinct that screamedrun.Told meget out. Told meI was not alone.I crept toward the curtain. Staring at the fabric, I told myself there wasn’t anyone there. At the same time, I expected to see the shadowed silhouette of a man, and when I peeled the curtain back a knife would slice at me through the air. I was one step away now. I could hear the shower head drip, drip, dripping. I stopped, awash with an illogical fear, and leaned slowly, hesitantly forward. My hand shook as I reached towards the shower, my heart threatening to stop, my breath freezing in my lungs. Before I could change my mind, I snatched the fabric, yanking it back.
It took a split second for my brain to compute it was empty—ofcourseit was empty. No one had broken in. I was being an idiot. I scurried over to the window, slamming it shut and clicking the lock into place. My body still shook as I clutched the vanity top and took a few deep breaths until my heart rate steadied. How many nights had I been scared of nothing? More than I would be willing to admit to anyone, even Tom.Okay, okay, it’s fine, no boogie men are out to get you, Williams. Get some sleep.
A quiet crack from behind jerked my shoulders back. A floorboard bowing?
I swung back around.
