I didn’t think. I ran back into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, fumbling with the lock on the bathroom door as I threw myself inside and pressed my back against the wall. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone, my fingers slipping on the screen as I pulled up Owen’s contact.
Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please, pick up.
The phone rang once. Twice.
I thought I heard footsteps. On the stairs. Getting closer.
Or was I imagining it? Fear wrapped so tight around me that I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and the horror movie playing out in my head.
“Har?” Owen’s voice was groggy but alert.
“Owen.” His name came out as a sob. “Someone’s in the house. There’s... I heard something crash, and I think I hear footsteps, and I’m locked in the bathroom and…”
“Stay on the phone.” His tone was sharp, all traces of sleep vanishing. I heard movement on his end, the sound of keys jangling. “I’m on my way. Do not open that door.”
“Hurry,” I whispered, my entire body trembling. “Please hurry.”
“Three minutes.” A car door slammed. An engine roared to life. “Talk to me, Harlow. What did you see? What do you hear?”
“I didn’t see anything. I was in the shower, and I heard something downstairs. I called out, and no one answered, and then something crashed, and I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m hearing things now or if it’s real or…”
“You’re okay.” His voice was steady, an anchor in the storm of my panic. “You’re safe in that bathroom. The door is locked. I’m almost there.”
“What if…”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” I could hear his engine, hear him driving way too fast. “Just keep talking to me. What bathroom are you in?”
“My bathroom. The one connected to my bedroom. I’m really scared.”
“I know. I know you are. But I’m two minutes away, and nothing is going to happen to you. Do you hear me?Nothing.”
I pressed my free hand against my mouth, trying to keep the sob from escaping. The tears were streaming down my face now, mixing with the water still clinging to my skin from the shower. I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering.
“One minute,” Owen said. “I’m pulling onto your street.”
He paused. Silence.
“I’m here.” He was in my ear and somewhere below me at the same time. “I’m inside. I’m coming to get you.”
I didn’t wait.
The rational part of my brain, the part that had been screaming at me to stay put, stay hidden, stay safe, wentcompletely offline. I unlocked the bathroom door, yanked it open, and ran.
Down the hallway and around the corner. Still terrified, still crying, still not entirely sure that whatever I heard wasn’t lurking in some dark corner waiting to…
I slammed directly into a wall of muscle.
I screamed.
“Harlow, it’s me.” Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me against him. “It’s me. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Owen.
I collapsed against him, my legs giving out completely, and he caught me. His hand cradled the back of my head, pressing my face into him, and I breathed in the scent of him while my heart tried to slow itself down.
“I’ve got you,” he kept saying, his lips moving against my hair. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Someone was in the house,” I managed, muffled against his shoulder.
