The only window in the bathroom was the floor-to-ceiling one by the tub. It was a single pane of glass, fixed in place. It didn’t open. Still, Nina skirted the sleek egg tub and stood in front of the glass. She pressed around the edges, testing the strength of it, and only once she was satisfied that it was sturdy did she turn to assess the lock on the bathroom door.
It was a single-sided deadbolt. Strong enough.
She turned around, taking in the bathroom. It was big. The floors were wood, the tile on the walls and in the shower a soft green. The white monogrammed towels, neatly folded over the rail, were big and thick. It certainly wasn’t the bedroom with its luxurious California king bed, but it would have to do.
Nina walked back through the cabin. She rechecked that the door and the windows were locked, opened a bottle of wine and grabbed a wine glass and a bag of chips from the fully stocked bar in the kitchen. She headed back to the bathroom, set everything up on the ledge of the tub before walking back through to her bedroom.
She stripped the bed and carried the comforter through with a single pillow before going back for pyjamas and her laptop.
She locked herself in the bathroom.
Showered.
Changed.
She turned off the lights and crawled into the bathtub, which she’d turned into a makeshift bed, picked up her wine, and opened her laptop to find a movie.
Her absurd attempt at security wasn’t lost on her. Nina was fully aware that she was suffering for no reason. She could have asked to be moved to the resort. She could have asked for sturdier locks to be installed on the windows and knew, given the price she was paying, it would be done. But she also understood that any hypervigilance on her part would only raise additional questions – questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
So, instead of all the things she could have done, she opened Netflix, choseHow to Lose a Guy in 10 Daysbecause in the past week even the anxiety of a new movie plot had become too much. And nothing comforted her more than rewatching a low-stakes romcom, one where she could just follow along without stress or fear or uncertainty.
Nina hit play and settled back against her pillow. She took a sip of her wine as the opening credits rolled, tried to ignore the setting sun outside the window, and promised herself, ‘Only for tonight,’ even though it was just another lie.
She started fighting sleep during the first season ofBridgertonclose to one o’clock in the morning.
Outside, the darkness was thick around the cabin, so that Nina couldn’t see anything but the glare of her laptop reflected back at her.
As the violins played on screen, she stared at the glass window, narrowing her eyes on a slight movement outside, only a hint of movement in the darkness.
Someone was outside.
Her heart began to thrash, each heavyda-dumricocheting in her ears so that all she heard was her fear. Through the mayhem, her brain screamed at her to get up and run, even as her legs locked with panic, refusing to budge. Sweat surfaced on her skin.
She hit the space bar, pausing the show.
She stared at the glass for a long, taut moment.
Waiting.
Watching.
Praying.
And when the shadows didn’t flicker again, she tentatively sat up in the bathtub. She slowly,so slowly, leaned forward, almost pressing her face against the glass in an attempt to see into the blackness.
She jerked back, a rabbit in a trap, as he slammed himself against the glass outside, hands and face plastered as if could simply pass through.
His eyes, bloodshot and crazed, stared at her.
His mouth curved in a knowing, mocking grin.
Nina dropped the laptop. She scrambled back and out of the bathtub as an otherworldly scream was ripped from her throat.
She tripped and landed on her ass, didn’t have time to stand, only faced the window as she scurried backwards like some lesser life form. A crab. A mouse. Something small and easily consumed.
Her back hit the bathroom door with a solidthwack. She stopped, curled into the corner. Her mind flicked through her options.Run– but he would be faster.Fight– but he would be stronger.Call for help– but he would have her by the time help arrived.
Knowing the advantage he had, he laughed, and it was not a monster’s cackle but a deep, smooth chuckle that fogged the glass in front of his mouth.
