Page 12 of No Control
“Are you sleeping right now?” I ask as I pull the curtain closed over my glass door, breathing a sigh of relief. If Bigfoot is out there lurking in the woods, at least he can’t see me. I never understood the women in horror movies living with their lives on full blast through open windows—we can do better.
“I was,” Emma says, letting out a yawn. “Jared went for another one of those late-night runs.”
“Hmm,” I mutter.
“Yeah, I think he’s still seeing his secretary.” Emma’s voice is blank and matter of fact. “It is what it is. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
I sigh, hearing the defeat in her voice. “Well, speaking of shitty men...”
“What did he do this time? I swear, he’s a—”
“I broke up with him,” I cut her off, watching Duke climb into the brown leather recliner and circling until he finally curls up in a ball. “I guess I finally couldn’t take his shit anymore.”
“Good for you!” Emma’s voice brightens. “I’m proud of you, Lydia. I always knew he was a shitty human being. I’m glad you got out before it became even more complicated. Trust me, a marriage license makes it a lot harder.”
I frown, feeling sympathetic. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe, but let’s not talk about it tonight. Why don’t you tell me what happened with Mason? I could use the distraction.”
Just as I open my mouth to spill the tea, Duke’s head pops up from its resting place, a low growl filling the room. “Um.”
“You okay?” Emma’s voice sounds distant as my focus remains on my dog, still growling at the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, pushing myself up from the couch. “Duke just heard something.”
“I don’t know how you stand living out there in the middle of nowhere.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” I try to shrug off the jitters creeping through my body as I near the curtain, though they still linger. Duke emits another low snarl as I reach out, my finger hovering over the outdoor lightswitch.
“You definitely sound bothered.”
“Nope.” I pop the word out just as I flip the back porch light on.
And I swear I hear the wood creak.
Duke lets out a bark, and I rip the curtain back, preparing for the worst.
But there’s nothing.
I pull the drapery back into place and let out a sigh. “I think I’m just paranoid right now. I had a weird day.”
“Expand on that.”
I plop back down on the couch and spend the next twenty minutes telling the entire story from the time I sat down for coffee with the mysterious—and kind of scary—Henry to right then, sitting there talking to her.
“So...” Emma’s voice trails off for a few moments. “Are you gonna do it?”
“Uh, no.”
“Why not? Can you imagine what kind of book that would make? Going off to write some novel for some hot scary stranger? I mean, you’re single now.”
“I don’t want to die,” I say tersely. “Like I told you, I think something is off with him.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure there’re plenty of people who think there’s something off with us, too. We write weird literature for a living.”
“Touché,” I laugh, but then pause. “In theory, it seems like it would be adventurous and fun, I just…I don’t know. Being stuck in a city I’ve never been to with a man I barely know sounds like the beginnings of a horror movie.”
“Thriller, probably, but yeah,” Emma giggles. “I would still do it. You said all his information is in the contract. Like go have wild, crazy sex—and let me live vicariously through you.”
