When You Dare
Page 50
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“I’ll use the one upstairs.” She wrinkled her nose. “I like a lot of privacy when I write.”
Was that a hint for him not to try looking over her shoulder? Bummer. It’d be cool to watch a writer at work.
Chris located a flash drive in the library desk and handed it to her. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” She juggled her glass of milk and the plate with the sandwich and pushed the flash drive into the sweatshirt pocket. Then she gave Chris a direct look. “And since I’ll be occupied, you really don’t need to hang around—that is, unless you want to. But don’t change your plans on my account, okay? I really, really detest being a bother.”
Telling her that she wasn’t a bother wouldn’t have made a difference to how she felt about it. So instead, Chris asked, “You’re going to stay in the house for the rest of the night?”
Molly hesitated. “Do I need to?”
“No.” God, he hoped she wasn’t planning another jaunt around the perimeter. “You’re safe enough anywhere on the grounds right around the house, under the security lights, but I’d rather know what you’re doing, and where you’ll be.” Just in case.
Her shoulder lifted. “If it’s okay, I might go down to the dock again later. The change of scenery jogs my muse, and the fresh air keeps me alert. Will that be a problem?”
Since the dock was closer to his place, and monitored, Chris was relieved. “That’s fine. Just be careful, okay?” And then to tease her, “We wouldn’t want you to fall in.”
As he started out of the room, the dogs followed, making Chris pause with a laugh. “I guess they’re ready to turn in for the night, so now they’re coming with me.” He eyed Molly. “You don’t mind being alone?”
She shook her head. “I usually am.”
And for whatever reason, that damn near broke Chris’s heart.
THROWING HERSELF into her work, Molly spent two hours on the computer and managed to write the entire scene before her muse took a rest and reality sank back in. The house was so quiet, and when she looked at the clock, she saw it was almost 10:00 p.m.
She saved her file and stored the flash drive with the few belongings she owned. Earlier, she had carried her dishes back down to the kitchen and stowed them in the dishwasher. The silence of the big house hadn’t really sunk in then; she’d been too anxious to get back to her story.
Now, however, she heard every unfamiliar noise.
Arms wrapped around herself, she walked over to the French doors to look out. Her head started to ache, so she freed her hair from the haphazard topknot fastened with paper clamps she’d found on the desk. Of course two men with short hair didn’t have any hair clips or bobby pins just lying around.
She shook her hair free, rubbed her temples a little. And still the tension continued squeezing in.
Earlier, the walk had helped. Then the hot bath. And then writing. But now…
Surely Dare would come back tonight…right?
She looked at the bed and shuddered at the thought of trying to sleep there, alone, with only her turbulent memories.
Regardless of how Dare had told her to come to him, it wasn’t fair to impose on him that way.
But…she didn’t want to sleep alone with her nightmares, and she had no one else.
Pacing the room, she took note of all the shadows cast from the glow of the computer monitor and the full moon outside. She took note of the silence, the chill, how the walls closed in.
She fought it, but anxiety tightened around her, smothering, insidious, consuming.
She drew a deep breath, then another—and knew she had to move now, before she lost control.
Swiping the quilt off the bottom of the bed, she went down the stairs, through the house and out the back door. Immediately, a million stars shone down on her, twinkling bright around a fat opalescent moon.
This time she filled her lungs with the brisk night air—and the freedom of it calmed her.
Dare would return tonight, and if he didn’t, she’d stay outside. Out here, she didn’t feel trapped or small or helpless. Having the wide-open skies over her was nothing like that cramped, airless room where they’d kept her chained up like an unwanted mutt, breathing the scents of fear and desperation and filth.
Where they had taken pleasure in tormenting her.
Hurting her.
But not too much, not enough to really injure her. They’d been waiting for something, she knew it.
But what?
When she stepped off the porch and onto the path, ambient security lights flickered on to show the way to the dock. She could hear the lake washing up to the rocky shoreline. She heard the teasing rustle of leaves, the songs of crickets and other night creatures.
She didn’t know what else might be out there with her, but she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore, not of this. Not of everyday, normal life. To the contrary, she’d never again take it for granted.
Off to the left of the path was the quaint white cottage where Chris lived. The large, front windows were shielded by drawn curtains, but light shone through, letting her know that Chris hadn’t yet gone to bed. Of course, he probably wouldn’t until Dare returned, because he felt responsible for her.
Dare did, too.
She wanted to be responsible for herself again.
Leaves blew over the path, crunched under her feet. The chill breeze cut through her, but she embraced it. She was alive, and after thinking she might die in that sweltering-hot, squalid little hellhole, being cold reminded her that she hadn’t let them win.
Was that a hint for him not to try looking over her shoulder? Bummer. It’d be cool to watch a writer at work.
Chris located a flash drive in the library desk and handed it to her. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” She juggled her glass of milk and the plate with the sandwich and pushed the flash drive into the sweatshirt pocket. Then she gave Chris a direct look. “And since I’ll be occupied, you really don’t need to hang around—that is, unless you want to. But don’t change your plans on my account, okay? I really, really detest being a bother.”
Telling her that she wasn’t a bother wouldn’t have made a difference to how she felt about it. So instead, Chris asked, “You’re going to stay in the house for the rest of the night?”
Molly hesitated. “Do I need to?”
“No.” God, he hoped she wasn’t planning another jaunt around the perimeter. “You’re safe enough anywhere on the grounds right around the house, under the security lights, but I’d rather know what you’re doing, and where you’ll be.” Just in case.
Her shoulder lifted. “If it’s okay, I might go down to the dock again later. The change of scenery jogs my muse, and the fresh air keeps me alert. Will that be a problem?”
Since the dock was closer to his place, and monitored, Chris was relieved. “That’s fine. Just be careful, okay?” And then to tease her, “We wouldn’t want you to fall in.”
As he started out of the room, the dogs followed, making Chris pause with a laugh. “I guess they’re ready to turn in for the night, so now they’re coming with me.” He eyed Molly. “You don’t mind being alone?”
She shook her head. “I usually am.”
And for whatever reason, that damn near broke Chris’s heart.
THROWING HERSELF into her work, Molly spent two hours on the computer and managed to write the entire scene before her muse took a rest and reality sank back in. The house was so quiet, and when she looked at the clock, she saw it was almost 10:00 p.m.
She saved her file and stored the flash drive with the few belongings she owned. Earlier, she had carried her dishes back down to the kitchen and stowed them in the dishwasher. The silence of the big house hadn’t really sunk in then; she’d been too anxious to get back to her story.
Now, however, she heard every unfamiliar noise.
Arms wrapped around herself, she walked over to the French doors to look out. Her head started to ache, so she freed her hair from the haphazard topknot fastened with paper clamps she’d found on the desk. Of course two men with short hair didn’t have any hair clips or bobby pins just lying around.
She shook her hair free, rubbed her temples a little. And still the tension continued squeezing in.
Earlier, the walk had helped. Then the hot bath. And then writing. But now…
Surely Dare would come back tonight…right?
She looked at the bed and shuddered at the thought of trying to sleep there, alone, with only her turbulent memories.
Regardless of how Dare had told her to come to him, it wasn’t fair to impose on him that way.
But…she didn’t want to sleep alone with her nightmares, and she had no one else.
Pacing the room, she took note of all the shadows cast from the glow of the computer monitor and the full moon outside. She took note of the silence, the chill, how the walls closed in.
She fought it, but anxiety tightened around her, smothering, insidious, consuming.
She drew a deep breath, then another—and knew she had to move now, before she lost control.
Swiping the quilt off the bottom of the bed, she went down the stairs, through the house and out the back door. Immediately, a million stars shone down on her, twinkling bright around a fat opalescent moon.
This time she filled her lungs with the brisk night air—and the freedom of it calmed her.
Dare would return tonight, and if he didn’t, she’d stay outside. Out here, she didn’t feel trapped or small or helpless. Having the wide-open skies over her was nothing like that cramped, airless room where they’d kept her chained up like an unwanted mutt, breathing the scents of fear and desperation and filth.
Where they had taken pleasure in tormenting her.
Hurting her.
But not too much, not enough to really injure her. They’d been waiting for something, she knew it.
But what?
When she stepped off the porch and onto the path, ambient security lights flickered on to show the way to the dock. She could hear the lake washing up to the rocky shoreline. She heard the teasing rustle of leaves, the songs of crickets and other night creatures.
She didn’t know what else might be out there with her, but she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore, not of this. Not of everyday, normal life. To the contrary, she’d never again take it for granted.
Off to the left of the path was the quaint white cottage where Chris lived. The large, front windows were shielded by drawn curtains, but light shone through, letting her know that Chris hadn’t yet gone to bed. Of course, he probably wouldn’t until Dare returned, because he felt responsible for her.
Dare did, too.
She wanted to be responsible for herself again.
Leaves blew over the path, crunched under her feet. The chill breeze cut through her, but she embraced it. She was alive, and after thinking she might die in that sweltering-hot, squalid little hellhole, being cold reminded her that she hadn’t let them win.
