The room eventually came into focus, although it appeared fuzzy around the edges, giving everything a dreamlike quality. I was in my bedroom. Relief flooded through me. It had been a nightmare. A very realistic nightmare, but at least it wasn’t real.
Something was nagging at the back of my mind, though. I squinted at my bedside table. Where was my lamp? As I looked around, everything became clearer, and I let out a deep, shuddering breath.
This room…it looked so much like my bedroom.
Except. This wasn’t my bedroom.
“Hello, Sleeping Beauty.”
I jumped at the voice coming from a dark corner and spun to see a shadowy figure rise up and come to stand in front of me. He watched me carefully for a moment, before he sank down onto the bed next to me. “How are you doing? Is your head okay?” Dylan’s concern was at absolute odds with how he’d treated me so far. As the slightly hazy memories came back, it sank in that he’d drugged me not once, but twice, he’d kidnapped me, and now he was holding me somewhere that bore such a close resemblance to my own bedroom, it couldn’t be a coincidence.
I tamped down the fear, locking it up tight. I had to be cautious and look for an opening. The courage I’d been working so hard on gaining was there inside me, I just had to do what I always did—fake it until it became real. Fear was not allowed any place here. Not now. Closing my eyes, I visualised myself putting on a mask, a mask that would hide my true face and protect me.
I opened my eyes.
“My head is a little fuzzy, but I’m okay.” Thankfully, my tongue didn’t feel swollen like it had done the first time, and other than my incredibly dry throat, I was able to speak almost normally, although my voice sounded hoarse and scratchy to my own ears.
“Good.” Dylan smiled at me. “How do you like my room?”
I stared around me, pretending to appreciate it, rather than show just how much it creeped me out. “It feels very familiar.”
His smile widened. “I decorated it as closely to your bedroom as possible. I wanted you to feel comfortable here.”
Smiling was an effort, yet somehow, I managed to make the corners of my lips turn up. “You did a good job.” I took a breath, my next words cautious, although I tried to keep a light tone. “How did you know what my bedroom looked like?”
“I can’t reveal all my secrets now, can I?” He laughed, and the sound chilled me.
“Talk to me, Dyl. I can call you Dyl, right?” My breaths were becoming shallower, and a wave of dizziness overtook me. Taking a deep breath, I counted to five in my head. I had to keep it together, to not allow my mask to slip.
“Dyl. I like that.” He shuffled a bit closer to me on the bed and reached out, clasping my clammy palm in his cold hand. “I’m sorry I had to sedate you.” His thumb stroked across my skin, and I barely suppressed my shudder of revulsion. “I don’t want you to be afraid, Raine. I’ll never hurt you. Not unless you give me reason to.”
“I believe you, Dyl,” I managed. “What was this big gesture all about?” I waved my hand around to encompass the room.
“Everything I’ve been working towards is for you and me.” He shuffled back on the bed until he was resting on the headboard. “You’ve always been so sweet, so kind to me.” His grip on my hand tightened. “We’re perfect for each other. I just needed you to see it. I suppose things changed at Fright Night. You looked so beautiful, almost irresistible. From the moment I saw you there, like some kind of goddess, everything changed for me. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
Nausea churned in my stomach. “You were there?” I hadn’t remembered seeing him.
He nodded. “I was in the haunted house. Did you like my clown makeup? That took me hours.”
“C-clown?” This time, there was no suppressing the shudder that ran through me. The one thing I hated, above anything else, was clowns.
Laughing, he patted my hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t dress like that again. Not now I know you don’t like it.” He sighed, the smile slipping from his face. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, to ask you out at school on Monday, but then everything changed. Carter”—he spat the word—“Carter ruined it. I saw the picture, you see. The one from Fright Night of you and him holding hands. Yes, you had a mask on, but I’d seen you earlier, and I knew it was you.” Another heavy sigh escaped him. “I almost thought Carter had managed to ruin things for himself, when the rumours started spreading about you with the football team, but it soon became clear to me that the two of you held some kind of infatuation with each other. That’s when I knew I had to take precautions, to show you how valuable I could be.”
“And…” I licked my dry lips, already knowing the answer to my question before I’d even asked it. “What did you do?”
“Nothing much. Just lifted the keys from my uncle, found the combination that Mrs. Whittall keeps locked in her desk drawer, and took the money from the cash box. There was no harm done—I replaced it afterwards, didn’t I?” A pleased expression stole across his face. “That was the first time you really confided in me, and it solidified my belief that we were perfect for each other.”
“But you—I. I paid you the money back.”
“It’s all here. I haven’t touched a penny of it.” He shifted on the bed, angling himself to face me. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
How was he even justifying his behaviour? My head was spinning.
“The money thing worked for a while, then at the party, I saw Carter kiss you. It
