I know I won’t feel safe until Piers Jordan has left Landslide.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Aila & Theron
Aila
Is that the wind making the floorboards creak?
Ben told my mom that Landslide runs mostly on green energy and gasoline generators.One lamp continues glowing in the living room after I turn off all the lights; it must have one of those blackout bulbs in it.I might find a book to read to keep my mind off things.
Everything smells of bleach because I cleaned up my mom’s blood and the broken shards of porcelain.To anyone else, it might seem like Mom lost a lot of blood, but I’m kind of an expert on how much fluid we have pumping around us now, so I’m not too worried.
Sliding my hand under my mom’s nose, I check her breathing.
Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry for getting us into this.Out of everyone who knows my sordid history with Piers Jordan, only you stayed by my side.
Everyone else—college besties, staff, authority figures, and friends—would always look at me with one eye half-closed.And I knew what they were thinking:Spoiled sugar baby using her physical charms to gain access to the high life.
That was always enough in their eyes to condemn me.
There’s that damn creaking sound again.
Please, can I just have one night on Landslide without a flood of emotions making me react like a deer in the headlights!
Scrambling to my feet, I stare into the darkness at the top of the stairs.The sound came from the second floor…
Maybe I should turn the lights on up there?Maybe it’s Ben?Or one of the Riders?Maybe I should go grab a knife out of the kitchen.
Maybe you should run, Aila.
I can’t leave my mom…
Why am I thinking this?Because IknowI am no longer alone in the house.
A dark shape materializes on the landing, moving down the stairs at a leisurely pace.
Sprinting, I must make it to the kitchen where the knives are.It’s my only chance.
Why are my hands fumbling on the top drawer’s handle?I hate having my back to the stairs, but I must get a knife.Or one of those tenderizing meat hammers.Please, please.
Pulling the drawer open…
But it’s not the utensil drawer.Tea towels.
When I lift my eyes from the drawer to the stairs, the dark shape is gone.
I feel the heavy weight of a hand on the back of my neck.The grip tightens until the top of my spine feels like it’s in a vice.Like I’m a rogue dog that had the audacity to leave its master…
“Hello, Aila.”
There is still a chance that he’s here to explain his actions to me.All he wants is for my mom and me to sign the NDA.He’s got a girlfriend.He wants to be a politician.I have nothing to worry about.
I can’t run away and leave my mom.Fight or flight?
Neither.
Time for me to face the music and use negotiating tactics to set his mind at ease.Sliding the drawer closed, I submit.“Hello, Piers.”
