“Um, hi,” I began, finding a cord of bravery within me. I took another step into the house, reaching behind me to push the door, closing it. “I’m—”
“How are you here?” Caleb’s father demanded, his finger still hanging in the air. “How is this possible?”
Hesitating, I fought against uncertainty and attempted to steer the conversation. Clearly this man was in no condition to be having a fluid dialogue, but I was also in no position to wander further into the house to go find out where Caleb was.
“Is Caleb home?” I asked, leaning forward on my toes to peer into the dark kitchen. A small part of me had been hopeful he was hiding in the dark, maybe grabbing a snack with his headphones on and hadn’t heard us.
“How are you here, Lucy?” His voice was low, predator-like.
Prickles of awareness instantly skated up my spine, and I tried to remain calm despite the fear rising in my system.
My eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to figure out what to do in this situation. Part of me wanted to call out to Caleb, while the other part wanted to dart out the door and flee to the safety of my car. Instead, I did nothing. Frozen like a deer in headlights as my heart threatened to jump straight out of my chest from the terror making it beat so rapidly.
He took a step toward me, his jaw clenched tightly. “How the fuck are you here?”
Opening my mouth to speak, I fumbled with my words, unable to form a sentence. I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans, wondering if I should call out for Caleb.
“ANSWER ME,” he boomed, taking two quick steps forward and stumbling. He caught himself midair, looking at me with such malevolence it nearly reduced me to tears.
Taking a step back, I bumped against the wall. “I… My name is Isla… I’m… I’m Caleb’s…”
“HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE, LUCY?”
“My… My name is… Isla.”
An unsettling stillness surrounded us, and with three more steps, he was in my space, his large body engulfing mine as I was caged between him and the wall. He looked down at me, the smell of stale vodka wafting around me as his warm breath hit my forehead and cheek.
Years of self-defense lessons with Bernard completely evaporated from my brain the moment I could use them the most. The man in front of me had become completely unhinged, the alcohol impairing him so drastically he confused me with someone else entirely.
“This isn’t fucking possible,” he thundered, and droplets of spittle hit my cheek. I turned my head away from his face, closing my eyes in hopes I’d wake up from this nightmare. His empty hand slammed against the wall above my head, causing me to jump.
I should have stayed in the car. I should have listened to Caleb and waited outside or called him again, orsomething.
“This isn’t fucking possible, Lucy. I killed you. I fuckingburiedyou.”
A deafening explosion rang out as glass and liquid shattered against the wall above me. The bottle Caleb’s father had been holding now smashed into shards rained down onto my hair and clothes. I screamed on impact, my fight-or-flight kicking in from the direct attack, and I threw my hands against his chest, pushing him backward to escape his proximity.
Caleb’s father stumbled back from my shove, falling to his butt on the floor. He bellowed at me, “I killed you! I fucking killed you, you bitch!”
“Youwhat?!” Caleb bellowed, appearing from the hallway, confused, but angry. A sob erupted from my chest in relief. He was bare chested with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, his wet hair dripping down in his eyes. A towel still hung in his hand, but the moment our eyes connected, he dropped it.
“Isla? What the fuck is going on in here?” he screamed as he ran across the room, pulling me into his arms the second I was in reach. “Starlight, tell me what happened. You’re bleeding.”
His presence made me lose control completely, tears flowing from my eyes as though a river dam had broken, and I felt myself begin to shake. Swiping his thumb against my cheek, I winced, my heart sinking at the sight of blood on his thumb when he pulled it away from my face. “He… He thinks I’m someone else.”
Shifting our bodies so he faced the room, I felt his body stiffen against me as he took in what had happened.
Without a word, he pulled me out of his living room and into the cool night air, guiding me back to my car. My keys still dangled from my hand—though I’m not sure how I held onto them that whole time—and he reached down, taking them and unlocking the car before depositing me into the passenger seat. “Stay here, lock the door,” he instructed, shutting the door behind him and jogging back into the house.
I sat shaking, likely from a combination of adrenaline, fear, and the cold, and leaned my head back against the headrest. I prayed Caleb wouldn’t be long, desperately wanting to get away from this house and into the safety of my own.
Closing my eyes, I hoped when I opened them again, I’d wake up from this nightmare.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Istalked back inside with a rage filling me, threatening to shoot off like a cannon. The image of me stepping into the living room and seeing Isla standing against the wall, trembling, while blood trickled down her face and my father held the neck of a shattered bottle, was one I would likely never scrub from my brain. This was my fault. If I had only kept a better eye on the clock instead of getting lost in thought while in the shower, this never would have happened.
Today had been a good fucking day, too. Giving my notice at Pack N Mail had been nerve-racking, but as I sat down with the owner, Mal, I relaxed and we had a great conversation. I left her office, passing her my official letter I had typed out on the company’s computer on my break, and she wished me the best of luck. She even told me to send Isla in to fill out an application and promised she’d be at the top of her list of interviews to replace me.
