Page 9 of Better Watch Out

“Fuck,” I murmur, shaking from cold and terror. “What thefuck?” There’s no way I can stay here alone. Not if there are stalkers outside leaving weird shit on the deck. “We’re calling Dad,” I murmur, looking down at Sitka. “And we’re getting the fuck off this mountain.

CHAPTER FIVE

I’ve never been more awake at four in the morning in my life. Well, except for the morning I escaped this place once and for all. It feels like some grand injustice that my second time being in the same adrenaline-fueled state at an ungodly hour is in the same place after I’ve been gone for so long.

“Fuck,” I hiss, tripping over the coffee table as I head for my room. Naturally I hadn’t grabbed my phone, and for a few stupid moments I search around in the dark before remembering lights exist. After that it’s just a matter of diving for my phone that’s on my bed, fingers quickly closing around the smooth, cool case.

“Okay. Ooookay.” I’m glad in this moment I don’t have my phone locked in any way, because it’s a second quicker for me to furiously head for my contacts and tap my thumb repeatedly on my dad’s number.

Which in the long run, only makes me accidentally hang up on him as my heart pounds out a quick, staccato rhythm in my chest. “Gotta calm down, Conor,” I sigh, taking a breath and rocking back on my heels. Finally, with a bit less urgency I tap Dad’s number again, putting the phone on speaker so I can look around the room.

I won’t be able to pack everything, but I’m certainly going to change clothes.

This time Dad doesn’t pick up, and when his voicemail triggers, I’m tangled in a pair of sweatpants two feet away, so I can only squawk and trip over myself while trying to get back to my phone. “Fuck,” I snarl again, hanging up and redialing him. Belatedly, I realize it would be easier to yank on my sweatpants without my shoes, so I rectify that mistake and force myself to slow down in my movements.

Yet again, Dad doesn’t pick up. This time Ishriekat his voicemail, before hanging up and calling again. Finally, on the third ring, it cuts off and I hear rustling and a sigh of exhaustion across the line before my dad’s mumbled voice.

“H’llo?” he asks, obviously confused and just waking up. “Is this…Conor is that you?”

“Yeah, yep. Hey, Dad.” I suck in a breath, raking my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, it’s definitely me, umm. I need help.” Now in a hoodie and fleece-lined joggers, I yank my sneakers back on and scoop my phone into my hand.

“What’s wrong?”I hear the concern in his voice, and I rake a hand through my sleep-tousled hair while nearly tripping over Sitka on my way out of the room. Fuck, where the hell did I put the car keys?

“I…okay. Umm…” I’m shaky and I feel like I’m about to cry. Plus all of the words I need to say feel like they’re going to just tumble from my lips in one lump, rendering them a mess of unintelligible dying parrot noises.

“You’re okay, hon.”Dad’s voice is the anchor I need, and I lean on the kitchen counter, taking in slow, deep breaths. “Just breathe for me, okay?”His voice holds an undercurrent of worry that my heart picks up on, maintaining its rabbit-fast pace under my ribs. But I can do this. The patio door is still locked, andwhen I back up, I see the front door is still closed as well. I’m okay.

Though I do suddenly wonder if my first call should’ve been to the cops instead of Dad, who’s a few hundred miles away and certainly can’t do anything about my current predicament. “Something’s wrong,” I manage to get out, looking around until I see Sitka stretched out on the sofa with her eyes mostly closed. It must be nice to not be in a scary stalker-fueled panic, but I certainly don’t know the feeling right now.

“What’s wrong, Conor?” Dad’s voice sharpens and I can hear a door opening, probably his bedroom door as he leaves Cheryl in the room. Ironically, I hear her voice from somewhere nearby around that moment, asking if everything is okay. But my dad must give her some kind of signal or gesture, because the door closes behind him without a real answer being given to my step-mom.

“I…okay. I woke up a few minutes ago and I let Sitka out the back door. There was a box and…” I trail off, not wanting to go into the box. Besides, that’s not really the important part right now. I sigh, my head pounding suddenly, and rake a hand through my long, auburn hair again. God, I need to brush it. My hair is tangled from sleep, and fighting to get my hoodie on certainly didn’t help it whatsoever. But hell, I’d rather deal with tangled hair than two weirdos outside being…weird and menacing.

Especiallymenacing.

“Anyway, I went outside to let Sitka out and the motion light went off. I mean, it wouldn’t come on in the first place, and?—”

“Con, you gotta slow down, hon,”Dad cuts me off, his voice carefully calm as if he’s trying to instill that calm in me as well. Not that it’s working. “Start over for me. You were letting Sitka out the patio door, right?”

“Yeah. Yes, umm.” I suck in a breath, pressing my face against the smooth, cool metal of the refrigerator like I used to do in the summers as a kid. “I let Sitka out. The motion light was being weird, so I had to go out and trigger it.” Fuck, this isn’t the important part, so I don’t know why I’m even focusing on Dad’s inability tofix thingsaround here.

“There were people outside, Dad. Two people standing right at the edge of the woods. I couldn’t really see their faces. They were in hoods and the light doesn’t reach that far too well.” My words are speeding up again, and I know I’m starting to panic, yet again. As if I’ve ever reallystopped.

“Two people standing in the trees? And you don’t know them?” There’s something off in Dad’s voice, but I can’t place it right now when I’m doing my best not to hyperventilate all the air out of my lungs.

“Yes!” I snap finally, at the end of my rope. “Two people standing in the trees, literallystaringat me, in our back-fucking-yard, petting my dog. At four am.In a snowstorm.I don’t know what other details you want here, okay? I just—I gotta call the cops. Really, I should’ve called them first but, I don’t know. I need you to help me get off this mountain and?—”

“Conor, please slow down. You’re going to be okay, hon.” He sounds…lacking in the panic department, which flags a part of my brain as being suspicious. “You couldn’t see their faces? And they didn’t say anything?”

“Nope. They stood theremenacinglyin the trees.”

“Petting your dog.”

I want to scream. I want to throw my phone at the wall and watch it shatter, but that would be incredibly counter-productive, and my phone is new. The last thing I wasnt is to fork out money for another one since it’s been such a short time since I forgot my last phone on the hood of my car, along with my coffee.

Which hadn’t ended well once I accelerated out of the parking lot.

“And you’re sure they weren’t trying to say anything or get your attention?”

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