1
JENNA
I’ve never been afraid of the dark. Ever. Monsters under the bed, bogeymen in the closet … none of that ever fazed me as a child. But now, at twenty-five? The heavy footsteps against the porch planks right outside my open window quickly remind me that monsters are indeed very real, and my peaceful night in the woods has veered into the unknown.
Reaching for my phone, I hide beneath the bed covers to douse the illumination from the screen. The “no signal” notification sends a jolt of terror down my spine that travels throughout my body as I realize the danger of my situation. I’m in the middle of nowhere with no one to run to for help, and I start to panic.
The moment soon passes though and something inside me shifts. Suddenly, I’m invincible—or just incredibly stupid. I quietly step out of the bed and tip-toe down the tiny hall with my back pressed against the wall, like I’m a top secret agent in an action flick only I’m armed with nothing. My eyes dart around the main area of the house, searching for anything I can use to defend myself. The moon glowing through the window sheers grants me the ability to make out the shapes of objects … andhim.The lurker. My intruder. I see him through the glass panes of the door with his head down as he toys with the lock and he’sbig.Much bigger than my five-and-a-half-foot frame.
Fear grips me tight in my chest, but my incredible stupidity—I mean invincibility—takes over and I dart for the kitchen, snatching the metalteapotfrom the stove top and crouching behind the center island. I close my eyes and pray he didn’t see me. The door slowly opens with a soft creak; I hear hisshoesthunk against the hardwood floors, although I have no idea how I even manage to hear anything over the deafening pounding in my ears. Taking a few deep breaths, I carefully ease my head around the side of the cabinet just as aduffelbag drops to the floor with a thud. My hearttakes off. Who knows what’s in that bag of tricks, but I refuse to find out and fall victim to whatever this creep has planned.
Gathering every ounce of courage in me, I emerge from my hiding space and lunge toward the man, swinging the kettle with everything I’ve got. I aim high, hoping to knock him in the head, but he’s so tall that I’m pretty sure I only manage to hit his shoulder. A deep, surprised grunt slices through the silence, and I’m high on adrenaline knowing I’ve inflicted him some pain. I draw my arm back, ready to strikeagain,when two large hands firmly grab hold of me and throw me up against the wall. The kettle slips from my grip and the back of my head throbs, but I keep fighting—”defeat” an unknown word in my vocabulary. I kick and squirm, but his whole body presses against me, immobilizing me and proving that I’m no match for him.
“I’ve already called the cops, you filthy pervert!” I lie, hoping to instill some fear into him with the threat of law enforcement. “They’ll be here any second, so you better get your hands off of me!” I wiggle again, straining at his impressive grip and scream at the top of my lungs when the sound of my name stops me.
I know that voice.
“Jenna?” the man repeats softly. “Is that you?”
Blood rushes back through my limbs as I’m freed of his hold, and even though my initial instinct is to flee, I stay put, comforted by the growing familiarity of this man. The lights flick on, and I blink against the brightness before focusing on the image in front of me.
Iknowhim.
“Cole?”My breathing is erratic from all of the excitement as I attempt to calm myself. I have a hard time believing that it’s him, but it is.His dark hair is still short, but significantly longer than he’d worn back when he wasinactive duty. Dark stubble now covers his onceclean shavenjawline. And his eyes, the same warm brown I remember, hold a depth of sorrow I knew all too well.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, concern creasing his brow. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I can’t stop staring at him as he backs away, but I force my brain to function and answer his question. “I’m okay,” I say. “You scared the crap out of me, though. What are you doing here? I haven’t seen or heard from you since …” I let my thought trail off.
“It’s been a long time,” he says, and I see a ghost of a smile flick across his mouth.
“Four years,” I clarify. “Does Emma know that you’re—”
“No,” Cole interrupts me. “No one knows.” He looks at me with an almost panicked expression and timidly asks, “She’s not here is she?”
“Your sister would be a pretty terrible best friend if shewerehere.” I shake my head and laugh, unable to help myself.
A soft chuckle escapes from Cole, and for a moment his brown eyes don’t seem so haunted. “True. I’m kind of glad she wasn’t here to help with that covert attack.” He rubs his bicep and looks around at the floor. “What’d you hit me with?”
I bite my bottom lip and feel my cheeks grow warm. “Your mom’s tea kettle.”
Cole spots it and lifts it from where it landed. “Lucky for me she doesn’t keep a cast iron pan lying around,” I hear him mutter.
A smile curves my lips as I take the kettle and move past him into the kitchen.
“So what brings you to my parents’ lake house at this hour?” Cole asks as he trails behind me. “I take it from the jammies that you’re sleeping here?”
“Yes.” With my back turned to him, I place the kettle on the counter and glance down at my “jammies.” The long bottoms were okay, but my thin cami left little to the imagination. “My apartment is in unlivable conditions at the moment, so Emma asked your parents if I could stay here.” I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to cover up and turn around to look at Cole. His eyes quickly flick up to mine; when I realize he was most certainly staring at my backside, my cheeks flush again, and I’m instantly filled with a shyness I can’t really explain. The little flutter in my stomach is also a reaction I can’t quite process.
“Unlivable conditions?” he asks. “Like what?”
“Like half of my apartment is nothing but soot and scorched memories.” Cole’s eyebrows crease in confusion so I elaborate. “My neighbor apparently left a candle burning unattended. The fire took all of her place, part of mine, and her neighbor’s on the other side.”
“Jesus, Jenna,” Cole replies with a concerned expression. “You weren’t home, were you?”
He moves toward me, and the action appears to be purely out of concern, but it still makes me feel strange. Cole Sullivan has been a part of my life from the time I was six years old—ever since I moved from Indiana to Virginia and instantly bonded with his younger sister over our mutual love of My Little Pony and annoying our older brothers. But not once in all of our years knowing each other do I remember him ever looking at me like …that. It wasn’t so much the worried look on his face that threw me, but the devastation that mingled with it—like if anything bad had happened to me he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
“No,” I tell him and shake my head. “I was out when it happened.”
“Thank God,” I hear him say softly. “Why didn’t you just stay with Emma?”
“Because she’s hosting your Uncle Roy and Aunt Marina along with their three kids for the week,” I answer. “They came down for your mom’s big birthday bash this coming weekend.” I meet his eyes and stare at him intently. “Enough aboutme,though. I’m more curious as to why you’re here, Cole.”
