That didn’t make the ugliness easier to swallow.
After yanking the towel around my chest, tucking in one end, I wiped my hand across the mirror, creating a blob in the steam. With the mirror still blurry, the twisted face I made appeared distorted.
Monstrous. Another face to haunt me.
My nightmares would concur.
Like one of the savages who’d tried to kidnap me, a long scar from just above his right eye to his chin disfiguring his face. If I had to guess, I’d say the injury had been caused by a knife.
Years before.
I’d contacted Sophia. Or at least I’d tried to. It had been years since I’d reached out. I hadn’t known whether she was still working for the family. The odd mechanical voice when the call had gone directly to voicemail was an indication she’d moved on. I’d left a message, although I’d been careful to do so expeditiously and without divulging anything about my personal life.
At least I’d remembered my former training after almost being kidnapped. Now it was a wait and see situation.
Unless I was ready to talk to my father.
Exhaling, I backed away, turning out the light and stepping into the hallway.
In my mind’s eye, I was able to see the mystery man once again. Nope. I refused to think of him for another second of the night. I’d been right all along about his arrogance. And the danger surrounding him.
It was so quiet in the house that even my bare feet pressing against the polished hardwood floors created sounds. To me they were eerie.
I half laughed and headed into the guest room, more than grateful I had a safe place to stay. After closing the door, I took a deep breath. For a million little reasons I’d felt compelled to leave the hotel even though the night had been paid for.
After the exhausting, nerve-racking day, perhaps I needed a more permanent set of surroundings. Maybe I’d been fearful that the strange, yet handsome man was intent on finding me. Hotels would be the first place he’d look.
“Oh, girl. What are you doing here?” My words were hollow, much like the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Being here was my tiny safety net.
The bed called out to me, the number of pillows offering comfort to my aching body. I dropped onto the comforter and even with having wet hair, I fell back, staring up at the ceiling fan gently providing a light breeze. I was already in love with the three-story house, shocked how incredible every room, every feature was.
It was as if Emmeline lived in a fairytale or a glossy architectural magazine. Other than her own room, which appeared as if a hurricane had gone through it. The location was on the corner of a lovely street only blocks from the heart of the city. Sidewalks were on both sides, magnolia trees lining the perfectly white concrete.
Every house on the block was an artistic Victorian with ornate and gingerbread accents. Even the streetlights were beautiful creations of steel and LED lighting. Her backyard was a majestic foray into whimsical landscaping, complete with windsocks and wind chimes. And inside? There wasn’t a window without a lovely suncatcher. I’d already decided that once I became famous, I was purchasing a house somewhere in the neighborhood.
Laughing, I rolled over, facing the mound of pillows. With the windows closed, I could still hear the thudding drumbeat from whatever music venue was the closest. The effect was so comforting I closed my eyes, doing nothing more than enjoying the moment.
I grabbed a pillow, hugging and molding the soft down close to my body. A tiny yawn slipped past my lips and every ache in mymuscles and joints was just another reminder I wasn’t getting any younger.
I half laughed, allowing myself to drift off. Maybe I’d take a nap. Just a few minutes of peace and quiet.
Mmm…
Pop! Pop!
“Papa?” I jerked up in bed, instantly terrified by the darkness. What happened to my nightlight? I had no idea what I’d heard. Maybe there was a storm outside and that’s why my light wasn’t working.
I grabbed my teddy bear, tugging her close, rocking slowly as I listened for any sounds.
Another loud noise and I instantly whimpered, but as my papa had taught me to do, I pressed my hand across my mouth. Once again, the quiet was terrifying. Shadows crept out from every corner of the room.
Something dark and ugly crawled up my spine. I jerked back the covers, jumping from bed, my teddy cradled tightly against me. Another whimper and the salt from tears burned my eyes. That would make Mama mad. She’d told me crying was a weakness and that if she caught me, she’d punish me.
I slid my feet along the floor and moved toward the door. Maybe Papa was close. He’d tell me everything was alright. With my hand shaking, I turned the knob on my bedroom door, slowly opening it.
There was no sound. The hallway was pitch black. “Papa?” When no one answered, a sob broke free. “Papa,ho paura.”I was scared. So scared. Where was Papa? Why wasn’t he answering me?
Sudden movement caught my attention. A hand slapped across my mouth.
