Prickles stabbed into the back of my neck, warning of a looming danger. My second piece of cake stuck in my cheek, and I nearly bit my tongue. I jerked my eyes around, looking for the source, nearly spitting my food everywhere when I found it. Several metres away, just off the footpath, Derek Lindstrom held his mobile to his ear. His sickening stare bored into me, and one side of his mouth lifted in a sneer, pleased that he had my attention. I struggled against the sensations he evoked, but I’d be damned if I let him see the effect he had on me.
“I’ve never liked that man.” Thank you, Beverly. Perfect timing. She looked me over with concern. “Are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
Using my tongue to manoeuvre the food, I pushed it down my throat and paused to make sure it stayed down. “I’ll be fine. Too much sugar. Are you ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
He was planning something, and my senses told me to stay as far away from him as possible. Men like him had to be in control, and I’d slapped him down a couple of times now. One thing was certain. I needed to find out what he was up to. I needed to know what was in that building in town, and why he was there.
I need to find the ghost from the window.
Brad
A piercing scream jolted me out of my sleep. I flicked on my lamp and hit the ground running, smacking my shoulder into the doorway as I tried to coordinate lethargic limbs. Veronica’s body contorted and twisted in the sweat drenched agony of a nightmare, as I watched through her door. My hand frantically rubbed the back of my head, searching for a plan as I stood at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t touch her. That’d make her more terrified. Her room was fucking freezing, but she was drenched in sweat.
“Veronica.” I spoke low and calm, hoping to break through her horror. Her body curled up in a ball, and she gasped furiously for a breath she couldn’t seem to catch.
“Veronica, it’s me. Brad. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She whimpered, stuck in the foetal position, her hair a wild tangle on the pillow. Fuck. I felt so helpless. This was as bad as when she lost it after seeing her mother. She was in some headspace that I couldn’t reach. No amount of physical force or determination would get me where I needed to be to help her. My fist tightened around a clump of my hair, and I pulled in frustration.
“Veronica!” Desperation forced the words into her ears. “It’s a dream. It’s not real. Come back to me. Wake up.”
Tears ran from her eyes, and down her temple to wet the sheets. The keening sound she made pierced me. I had to touch her. Placing my hand lightly on her shoulder, I smoothed it down her arm, talking to her the entire time. Letting her know it was me. She slowly relaxed, stretched her legs out and rolled onto her back. I watched as her eyelids fluttered open, and her dark, tear-soaked gaze finally focused on me. Her eyes widened, then those lids dropped closed, and her hands covered her face.
“Hey.” I gently held her wrists and tugged down, so I could see her and make sure she was okay.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” she croaked at the ceiling.
“Look at me.” After a moment’s hesitation, she turned her eyes in my direction. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I get nightmares. A lot. Although I haven’t had one since I moved here. Guess the holiday is over. Sorry that I woke you.”
“Don’t worry about me. Do you want a drink of something?”
“Yes, please. Cold water would be great.”
I padded down the hallway, feeling the temperature change as soon I left her room. The nights were getting cooler, but it was nowhere near winter, and the air-conditioner wasn’t on. I scrubbed my hands up and down my face, unable to comprehend how bizarre that was at two in the morning. I flexed my left hand. It felt weird without the cast, like it weighed nothing.
After filling a glass, I handed it to her, watching her drink. If she told me to leave, I would have. But I had a strong compulsion to stand guard over her all night.
She put the empty glass on her side table, and scanned my face through wet lashes. “Would you mind if I slept in your bed tonight? Sorry, I know I’m being a wuss. You can say no. I’m a bit freaked out—”
Even better.
I was a little stunned that she’d suggest it, so it took me a few seconds to respond while she kept apologising. “Yes.” I threaded my fingers through hers and pulled her behind me to my room. She climbed up on the bed, curling away from me. I knew she was shaken and might need some space, but I was wired up, and needed to hold her to know she was okay. Flicking off the lamp, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into my front. “Is this okay? I need to hold you.”
She didn’t make a move or a sound for the longest time. I wondered if she was asleep already.
“Yeah. It’s good. Thanks.” Her hand covered mine, and I felt my panic ease.
I spent hours listening to her breathing, and watched
