Page 123 of Our Little Secret
One step.
The boat rocked.
Two.
She heard the mournful cry of some seabird and her skin crawled as she made her way lower, out of the wind and rain. With one hand in her pocket around the butt of the gun, she eased into the pitch-black cabin.
Her cell phone buzzed and she jumped.
Yanking it from her pocket, she saw Marilee’s number:
Where are you?
Time was passing.
No time to respond. She hit the flashlight app, illuminating the small room with the weird gray light. She rotated slowly, running the beam over the familiar built-in couch, the galley. The boat creaking and rocking slightly, she tried to orient herself, her gaze piercing the nooks and crannies where he could be.
“Gideon,” she called, her voice a whisper, every muscle in her body tense. “Gideon? Are you here?”
She waited.
Nothing.
She eased into the berth, shining her light, expecting him to lunge out of the darkness because that seemed to be the new kind of game he liked to play, to terrorize her.
“Gideon!” She yelled his name and saw a flash of light.
A small beam.
Pointed directly at her.
A dark figure barely silhouetted behind it.
Gasping, she ducked down, her heart in her throat. Nerves jangled, she cut the light on her phone. Fumbled in her coat pocket for the gun. Grabbed the pistol. Yanked it out.
Finger on the trigger, she aimed. Into darkness. The light disappeared. The flash no longer there.
Desperately, she twisted, looking into all the dark crevices, her gaze scraping every shadowy corner.
No sight of him.
No sound either.
No sign of the intruder.
Not the intruder;you’rethe intruder! You never should have come here!
Shit, shit, shit!
She’d seen a spark, like the flash from a gun’s muzzle.
Why was there no blast? No sharp report or bullet whizzing past her head?
She trained the pistol toward the spot where she’d seen the figure.
Only then did she realize she’d caught sight of her own image, her own shadowy form holding not a gun but a phone, its flashlight app catching in the porthole and reflecting on the glass.
For the love of God, Brooke, you’re jumping at shadows! Get an effin’ grip! You’re acting as if Gideon’s out to do you physical harm when all he’s done is threaten you psychologically. Yeah, he’s been brutal with his mental torture, and there was that one fight that got physical, but remember,youcame here.Youboarded his boat.Youbrought a gun. Did it ever cross your mind that maybe you’re playing right into his hands?
