I walk past the round glass table that sits in the middle of the grand foyer and take the right set of stairs to my room on the second floor. I enter and notice that my windows are open. The soft wind blows my violet curtains around, giving my room a cold chill from the outside air. “Hmm.” That’s weird. They weren’t open a minute ago. My bedroom light is off how I left it, but since the window is open, the lights on the side of the house give my room a soft glow.
I walk over to them and look out the open windows. The Victorian mansion sits on five acres in a secluded neighborhood. You have to have a gate code to access the property, so it’s not like you can just pull up to our house. If someone doesn’t have the code or clearance to get in, the guard shack will phone us for approval. My mother thinks she’s some kind of celebrity and needs protection from the outside world.
I look over the manicured lawn. Holly trees line the area below my windows—big shrubs that have pointed leaves on them. I’ve cut myself on their sharp edges before, and they sting like a bitch. I’m pretty sure my mother put me in this room so I can’t jump out and escape. Becky’s doesn’t have anything outside her window, but she’s always been allowed free rein. She comes and goes as she pleases. Plus, when we lived with our father, the parent who wants to be your friend more than a parent, he allowed her to do whatever the hell she wanted. That’s why she begged our mother to stay there when they announced their divorce. Thankfully, my father talked her into letting me stay too. But he was just as strict on me as our mother is.
I place my knee on the white cushion of the alcove and pull both bay windows closed, then flip the latch. I turn around, and a scream erupts from my mouth when I see a guy sitting on the opposite side of my bed with his back to me. He has his head down, facing the floor. A black hood pulled up, so I can’t see the back of his head. With matching black jeans. He sits with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
I’ve fallen onto the bench, pressing my back up against the windows. My heart races in my chest. He sits perfectly still—like a statue. Swallowing nervously, I try to remember any survival skills, but I’ve got none. The thought crosses my mind of the serial killer documentary I just watched and how I’m about to be raped and hacked into a million fucking pieces before they’re buried under some psycho’s house. I’ll never be found.
By the way his broad shoulders pull against the black fabric, I’m guessing the guy has at least a hundred pounds on me. I’m five feet three and weigh a hundred and twelve pounds. I can’t fight off someone that size.
I sit paralyzed, waiting for him to stand. To turn and show me his face. The fact that he’s hiding from me has to be a good sign, right? I’ve seen enough documentaries to know if they hide their face, they don’t want you to be able to identify them. If they do show their face … well, then they’ve already decided you’re going to die.
I swallow nervously and push myself up when he just continues to sit there. I will my shaky legs to tiptoe over to my bed and snatch my phone off the nightstand to call 911. But it’s not there.
My stomach drops. I know I didn’t take it downstairs with me. That only leaves one other possibility—he has it.
“What … what do you want?” I ask and swallow the knot in my throat. I’m here all alone. Why isn’t he doing anything? Did Becky send him? Is this some sick joke she’s playing on me? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to scare me. And since I made fun of her getting scared at Silence, I wouldn’t put it past her to retaliate.
A thought hits me, and I release a long, shaky breath. Halloween is coming up. My hands come to rest on my pounding chest. “Seth, knock it off.” The guy likes to scare me because he knows how much I enjoy it. Last year on Halloween, I just happened to be visiting my mother in Texas, and he dressed up as Jason and hid in the back seat of my car. When he popped up, I had just merged onto the highway and almost killed us both, barely missing the center median. We laughed about it afterward.
He swears he’s going to scare the shit out of me. My eyes narrow on the back of his hoodie when he continues to just sit there. “Seth …”