Page 70 of Overcast

The possibilitiesof my running into the woman who I allegedly tried to kill is almost laughable.

Until it really wasn’t.

Emric scared the living crap out of me when he stormed into her kitchen with so much rage plastered on his face I believed he would finally succeed and throttle me against the white marble countertop.

They wanted to speak alone; I understand that, but I want to go home. Reagan set me up in a spare bedroom and promised on her son’s life that she’d take me back in the morning.

It’s not soon enough.

My anxiety has reached its peak. I’m not fully sold on Emric believing his sister when she explained that I wasn’t the woman who attacked her.

Also, I stabbed a man.

Mind you, it was my attacker, but still…I pierced metal through someone’s flesh to save my own life while being in a situation that I should’ve never been in.

Sensing my unease about being in the same area with her brother, she graciously escorted me to a room painted in sky blue. It reminded me of the beach with canvases depicting waves, and large bodies of water surrounded by colorful trees. A full-sized bed was perfectly made with a matching comforter set and a bouquet of sunflowers sitting on a bedside table.

It was cozy…if I wanted to be here.

Reagan’s kindness didn’t pry away the fact that Emric was still downstairs, and he had his own truths to spill.

Talk about calling the kettle black in this circumstance.

His name is Marty. And, from the sounds of his and Reagan’s yelling, it seems like he’s been living a double life without his sister’s knowing.

I'd love to gloat that I wasn't the villain here; however, my stomach is in knots, and I'm burning up all over.

They went at it for what seemed to be hours before silence would fall, and they’d start up again. I attempted to watch TV to drown their voices out, but their shouting always led me back towards the door with the mention of my name in tow.

I can't face Emric again, it's all I can focus on. I want to find Dad, pack my things, and get out of town.

Numerous ideas and different places rummage through my brain for what seems to be like forever. I'm not sure when I fell asleep or what state I last thought about last, but the alarm clock beside me says it's after three in the morning. The house is deathly quiet except for the gentle breeze that hits the window every few minutes, and I weigh out my options.

Not that there are many.

I obviously don’t know Reagan, or how close she is to her brother. This could be a game like good cop, bad cop, awaiting for me to spill out the secrets they both want.

I could find a road, hopefully someone would drive down it and give me a ride. It's not a safe option, but anything is better than waiting on Emric to make another violent decision.

Then there are the cars outside. If I'm fortunate enough, I could turn up a pair of keys and take off. That's if I don't wake up the whole house; hopefully, they aren't light sleepers.

Granted, I have to try.

No other alternatives are forming in my brain, and I am in the middle of nowhere from what I remember when Emric drove us here.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I pad over to the door, inhaling a slow and deep breath.

I got this. I survived this long.

The doorknob turns without a sound as I unhurriedly pull, not wanting to mess up by making an unwanted squeaking noise. I hold my next breath, on edge with having to break out of another somewhat prison that I literally stepped into.

Nice and easy.

Stepping cautiously into the dark hallway, I peer to my left just before a full-figured body shoots up from the floor and in my direction. I let out a yelp before a warm palm closes over my mouth, a familiar scent clogging my nostrils and propelling me back into a state of panic.

"Don't wake everyone up, sweetheart," Emric whispers as he moves us back into the room and closes my door slowly behind him with his foot. "My sister will get pissed if you wake up Huck."

That same rippling uprise of fear slams through my skeleton. My stomach coils harder than before, and I can feel more beads of sweat trickling down my forehead.

---