Page 8 of Unexpected

As I searched the house for Princess Emmy, I glanced at my phone for the millionth time. Michael promised he would call when he got back to his room, but I still hadn’t received anything.He’d been difficult to reach since our conversation earlier in the week when I heard a woman’s voice in his hotel room. I tried to steer my thoughts away from the possibility that he was cheating, but I’d spent more time considering it than I’d hoped. And the longer it took to reach him, the harder it became to forget the entire situation.

I found Emmy with her friends playing on the enclosed back porch. I didn’t want to interrupt them, but when Emmy spotted me, she insisted I had to join in on the fun.

There were a few heaters on either end of the porch, which did a decent job of keeping the area warm.

I spent much longer with Emmy and her friends than I had originally planned, but she wouldn’t let me leave until I told her I was going to pee my pants. She gave a hearty “ewww” and let me leave just as I was about to actually pee my pants.

I navigated my way through the maze of the haunted house and found the bathroom just in time. My ears were ringing from the mixture of six-year-olds screaming and the blaring music, so the bathroom was a nice moment to collect my thoughts and make sure my eardrums hadn’t yet ruptured.

With my hands washed and my business finished, I plucked my phone out of my bag and was disappointed to find that Michael still hadn’t called me. It was almost eleven and if he still wasn’t back in his hotel room, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing.

I stepped out of the bathroom and back into the loud hallway when I spotted Chris coming directly toward me from the end of the hall. The direction he came from was my only escape—the other end of the hall dead-ended to another room—so without any other options, I attempted to backpedal back into the bathroom. But before I got the door all the way closed, Chris’s hand darted out and blocked it. It must’ve hurt his fingers—not that I cared—but he didn’t even flinch when the door hit his knuckles.

Defeated and cornered, I tried to put on my best smile and find a way out of the situation. “Did you need to use the restroom? Here, let me get out of your way.”

He laughed and pushed the door open. He walked in just as I slipped around him and into the hallway. I thought I’d outsmarted him until he grabbed my arm just at my elbow and pulled me back to him. My back hit his front and my stomach rolled. My skin crawled with the contact.

The liquor smell from earlier was even more potent and was mixed with his musty body odor. I could feel the bile clawing its way up my throat.

“Actually, I was looking for you.” His voice was dark, and I could barely hear him over the music.

I tried to take another step, but that seemed to frustrate him, so he whipped around me and backed me up into the doorframe.

“Looks like my kid really likes you,” he slurred, looking down at me.

My fight-or-flight response was triggered the moment I spotted Chris, but neither seemed like an option anymore. I didn’t want to cause a scene by fighting, and my escape routes were blocked as he caged me in. My third option was to stay amicable and hope he lost interest. My hopes weren’t high that it would work.

“Yeah, Emmy’s really sweet. I like her, too.” I nodded. He didn’t make a move to let me by, and I tried to keep my breathing even. Although each breath was more difficult than the last, and the air was thick with his horrible odor, I knew he got off on scaring women. I wasn’t going to let him see my fear if I had any say in the matter.

“So, is your husband still out of town?”

“He’s actually getting back tonight. Thanks for asking.” I paused as he scowled at me. I hoped he would take that as a reason to get the hell away from me, but of course, he didn’t.I wasn’t that lucky.

“I find you so interesting, Brown. How a man could leave you alone all the time is just crazy. If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you go. Ever.”

His right hand was planted on the wall beside my head while his left hand dropped to my hip. He roughly gripped me there and leaned in even closer. His eyes dropped to my cleavage, and he took the liberty of running his sweaty finger over the top of my shirt just above my boobs.

I started running through scenarios of how to get out of the situation with as little chaos as possible, but my mind was clouded and my judgment impaired. His hand moved lower, and I lifted my arms to push him away when a voice at the opposite end of the hallway caught both of our attention.

“Chris.”

Luke was there. His body filling most of the opening, and he looked terrifying. The outline of him was illuminated by the flashing lights in the background.

He crossed the distance to us in only a few long strides, a menacing look creasing his forehead. Chris watched Luke stalk to us over his shoulder but didn’t make to remove his hands from me. Whether it was the alcohol or downright stupidity, I didn’t know. But when Luke’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, Chris rolled his eyes and finally pulled back.

“I think you need to go find your wife,” Luke said through clenched teeth.

He was at least several inches taller than Chris and should have been incredibly intimidating. But Chris’s liquid courage (or lack of self-preservation) was strong, so he didn’t immediately back down.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He shrugged Luke’s hand off his shoulder and squared up to him. My exit was once again blocked—this time by Luke’s hulking frame—and I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a fight.

Luke clenched his fists at his side and stepped closer to Chris. He had to stoop a little to get face-to-face with him, but when he did, he said again, “You need to go find your wife.” He said it slowly and each word was etched in barely restrained anger.

Chris shook his head but cut his losses. He stepped around Luke and started down the hallway. Luke turned, arms folded over his chest, and watched him from in front of me.

“I’ll see you later, Hazel.” Chris turned to say, not being able to leave without the last word.

Before I even had time to register the threat, Luke added, “No, you won’t.” His tone was authoritative, and I almost laughed at the anger that passed across Chris’s face.

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