Page 3 of When the Woods Go Silent

“Cameras,” I breathe out suddenly. Fumbling for my phone, I pull up the app for our brand new security system. We installed cameras in each of the shop rooms since the store’s layout is so difficult to watch, and I chew my bottom lip as I scroll hurriedly through the feeds.

Not a single camera has picked up anything except the books falling and my own ass bouncing around to the beat in my head.

Nobody is inside the damn bookstore except me, but Iknowwhat I heard.

A sudden, consuming, irrational fear grips me, and I sprint to the front doors, rushing to type in the security code and unlock the deadbolt.

No matter what else might be waiting in the woods, I have to get out of this creepy old house. Fucking now.

CHAPTER TWO

ROSE

It’s late enough that when I clatter down our front steps and onto the cracked sidewalk, all the neighboring storefront lights are out, except ours.

Everything is so quiet that my ears are ringing. The trees are layers of shadow upon shadow, and I hate the way they’re shifting toward me as the wind picks up.

The early spring night air is chilly against my flimsy tank top, and the slide of sweat along my spine sends me into a rattling shiver. I start walking quickly before I realize I have nowhere to go, and I’m not even wearing a proper bra.

Ruby has the car we share, hours away in New York City.

And our part of Clearwater goes to bed early in the months before the tourists flood in.

Gritting my teeth and working to calm my breathing, I finally dial 911 and stammer through an explanation of the break-in, leaving out the parts where I’m losing my sanity.

“An officer will be there within ten minutes, Miss. Can you stay visible? Are you safe now?”

I nod, then bite out an audible answer as I pace further from my shop. The operator clicks off the call, and I round a corner. There’s no way I’m staying outside the shop all alone. I’ve seen enough movies. Something around here has to be open. The gas station, surely.

There. A block over, on the cross-street, a single building is lit up, softly blurred figures milling around behind the curtained windows. There’s even a small line of customers waiting outside, a welcome sight to someone used to a city that doesn’t sleep. I hurry toward the safety of numbers, eager to be anything but alone.

But what is this place? There’s no sign hanging above the door, and I don’t remember seeing anything on this street interesting enough to rate a queue, especially this late. More than anything, it looks like an office building.

“Coming inside?”

I flinch and dart nearly into the street at the sound of the deep male voice to my right. A lanky figure waits in the poorly lit alley between the mystery building and a toy shop with a sprawling, Gothic dollhouse on display. The guy holds up both hands as though assuring me he’s no threat. I’m still clutching my phone, and I remind myself that the cops are on their way.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice is calm and liquid. Soothing, after what I’ve just experienced. I’m safe, I tell myself. There are plenty of people here. They can all see me talking to this man.

“Wh-what is this place?” I manage to ask, willing my nerves to calm the fuck down. He steps forward, into the pool of light from a streetlamp, and a different sort of breath catches in my throat. He could be a model. Strong jaw and light eyes, crinkled at the corners from his teasing smile. Tousled, blond hair that catches the yellow light from the storefront beside him.

“It’s a pop-up restaurant. We only open at ten, and we close once the food’s gone. Once or twice a week, if the tourists are lucky.” He leans casually against the brick wall, and I try to be subtle when I stare.

He smiles wider, like he knows exactly how good he looks. I feel a flush begin on my cheeks as I deliberately turn myattention back to the waiting people, rubbing my hands against my bare arms and trying to casually disguise the way my nipples are all too visible in the chill.

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