“Never been in it,” Gray replied as I dumped the machine on the stage and looked at the seats.
“I’ve only been once.” I looked up at the lights and back around. “I don’t like it.”
Gray’s soft laughter carried over the phone, and I closed my eyes at hearing it. “I love your laugh,” I whispered.
“Why?” I could hear his amused tone, and I knew he would be smiling.
“I don’t know, I like knowing you’re happy, I guess.”
“Ah, a rare thing,” he mocked, and I chuckled at his playfulness. My laughter cut off when I heard the thump. “What is it?” Gray asked, instantly alert.
Straining to hear, I pulled the phone away from my ear. “I don’t know.” I waited. “I think I imagined it.”
“Imagined what?” His voice was tight, and the tone low.
“Nothing.” I forced the cheeriness in my tone, and I knew he wouldn’t buy it at all.
“Quinn.” His low warning tone actually soothed me.
“I thought I heard a bump. Jesus, I’m a cliché, the things that go bump in the night.” My laugh sounded brittle.
“It’s only seven thirty. I think you need a few more hours for the bumping to begin,” Gray murmured, and I jumped when I heard it again.
“Ask Jett where Ava is,” I asked him as I rose to my feet.
“Baby?”
“Ask him.” I turned in a circle. I heard the muted conversation, and then Gray was back on the line.
“She’s only just left. You’re too early,” Gray told me tersely. “What is it?”
I heard the thumping more rhythmically now, and I clutched the phone tighter. “Gray? I don’t think I’m alone.”
“Get out.”
My feet stayed frozen to the spot. “It’s probably the janitors, I’m overreacting.”
“Okay, overreact, but get out.” I heard him moving. “Now, Quinn. Keep talking and walking.”
Spurred into action with the urgency of his voice, I left the karaoke machine and started back up the aisle to the doors. “I’m walking,” I assured him when he asked me.
The floodlights being turned on for the stage as the theater was plunged into darkness made me cry out in alarm. Frozen, I looked back at the stage wildly.
“What the fuck is it?” Gray demanded.
“The lights got dimmed, the stage is lit up,” I told him in a low whisper. “I don’t care if I’m chicken, I’m running out of here.”
I didn’t wait for his reply, and I started jogging to the doors. The doors were locked. What the fuck was happening?
“Gray, the doors are locked!”
“Try the next one,” he ordered sharply. “It’s probably just the janitor. He hasn’t got the memo you girls are going to be there and is locking up.”
“With the stage lights on?” I hissed fiercely.
“Just get to the other doors. We can be pedantic when you’re outside,” he snapped.
“Ass,” I muttered as I reached the other door. “It’s locked.”
