“You can tell me. No judgment, ever.”
“I thought it was someone, it couldn’t have been, but whoever it was stopped Shane from hurting me.”
Who would have thought a bump on the head would have cleared my thoughts enough to realize that whoever, whatever, was in this house wasn’t my jailed stepbrother.
“Well, that’s a good thing. Shame he isn’t still here so we could thank him.”
“God… this house is driving me to insanity.” I crouch down, my haunches taking my weight.
Annabelle’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Do you wanna go into town for a bit? Getting out of the house and getting some coffee might be good for you.”
Shame has me stuttering. “I don’t have money for coffee.”
“You don’t need money. I’ll buy you a coffee. Or one of those fancy teas you occasionally post on your socials. You know, those pink ones with balls in. And I can even have my dad come by and scope this place out.”
Her dad, a local detective, will probably think I’m crazy, just like the cop last night probably did, like Shane and half of this town do.
The door arch accepts my weight as I stand with trembling legs. Unable to pull my eyes away from the second floor, Annabelle’s eyes follow mine. No doubt, the gargoyles she’s hated since childhood still creep her out.
She shivers. “You know what, screw it. We can’t leave this place like this anyway. Do you want me to check it out? We can get a takeout delivery and clean this place when I’m done.”
“You can’t go up there.” I clutch her arm.
“I understand you not wanting to go up there, but I’ll be fine, really.”
“Someone was in the house, Annabelle.” My hold on her wrist tightens so hard that she stares down at my grip.
Letting go of her, I continue, “Maybe I thought I saw someone I didn’t because I’m not sleeping well in this house, and I’m seeing clowns fucking everywhere. But there was someone here, and he still could be.”
Her frown questions my sanity, and the gentle tone that follows tells me she also thinks I’ve lost it.
“Annabelle, I’m serious. This person saved me. They hit Shane for hurting—” I cut myself off, stumbling over the fact that Shane had done so much to hurt me in the last hour.
The weight of the last hour lands heavily on my shoulders, and they slump.
“Look, Dollie, this house has been broken into so many times. It’s huge. There could have been someone here hiding and planning on playing a cruel prank. They may have even been dressed as a clown for whatever fucked-up reason. But when they saw you and your situation, that changed because they didn’t want to see you get hurt.”
“What if he’s still here? I have to stay here alone tonight, and between my parents and whoever is here, I can’t—I can’t be here alone.”
“Your parents?”
“I feel like they’re haunting me.”
Annabelle sighs. “Well, I think being haunted by their death is understandable. It was pretty brutal.”
“I try not to think about them.”
“That’s understandable, too.” She offers a sad smile. “Look, you do not have to stay here alone. I can stay with you tonight. I’m in no rush to go home. My roommate has a guest. I mean, this woman is seventy-four, and her guest, he’s eighty-two, and they stilldo stuff.”
An uncomfortable twist hangs on my lips.
“Yeah, that kind of stuff. I can scope out the house because even death by intruder sounds better than listening to them go at it for half of the night.”
Grappling at her hand, Annabelle’s fingers tighten around my scarred skin, and she squeezes. I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t cringe over my scars.
“Please, don’t go up there.”
“It’s fine. Seriously, I’m not afraid of someone who saved you from your abusive boyfriend. Your boyfriend, on the other hand…” Annabelle begins her march to the stairs with me still attached to her. “I’m glad that rat bastard left before I got here. I fucking hate men. No, I hate overgrown toddlers.”
