Page 21 of Chill

And again.

But on the fourth circuit of the room, my hand inches out to find the door handle. I’m not locked in, not that the locks on these doors even work so well anymore, and I can’t help the way my fingers curl around the cold metal handle.

I won’t go far. I just want to hearsomething. Something that can assuage my bubbling, stinging curiosity.

With my phone shoved in the pocket of my leggings and my hoodie on the desk, I step out into the hallway and let the door close softly behind me.

It’s obvious there hasn’t been electricity in this place for a long time, so the hallway is dark as hell. Especially without Val’s flashlight. My steps make almost no noise on the torn up carpet as I prowl down the hallway, head cocked as I listen for any kind of sound at all.

But all I can hear is the sound of my breathing.

God, I know for a fact if Val and Kieran find me out of the room, they’re going to be pissed. That should be enough to sendme scurrying back to the room. But instead, I make it to the end of the hallway, back to where the staircase is that we came up about an hour ago.

But this is where my confidence and my curiosity falter. I stop at the top of the stairs, toes curled in my sneakers as I rub my arms under my t-shirt. It’s chillier in here than I’d expected it to be, and I bite my lip while staring down the abandoned stairwell as if something is just going to magically appear.

Nothing does, of course. No boyfriends, no victim, and no ghosts. God, I’d be pretty upset if I were to find out this place is haunted. While I’ve secretly always thought ghosts might exist, finding that out here today would not be my idea of a good time.

I’m too nervous to go downstairs. That’s too close toeverythingfor me, even though I still can’t hear anything, no matter how quietly I breathe or how hard I listen. They didn’t bring their phones with them, so it’s not like I can just shoot them a text to check on them or call for a little chat.

“You so aren’t going down there.” I sigh, knowing I don’t have the guts to skip down the stairs looking for my murderers and their victim. By now, I assume he’s definitely a corpse, and they’re probably just cleaning up. Maybe it got a bit messier than they expected, and they’re having to call in an extra cleanup crew instead of just chucking him in the trunk of Kieran’s car.

I really have no idea how the process of murder and body disposal works, so I take a step back and remind myself this is not their first rodeo. I just need to go back to the room and wait. Maybe attempt to take a nap, or at the very least listen to some music, lose more Sudoku puzzles, and panic less.

Forcing myself to move, I turn away from the stairwell and head back down the hallway, though my steps are slow and deliberate as I still try to listen for any noise. It’s not until I’m halfway down the hallway that Idohear something, and my heart thumps in my chest as I spin around to face the stairwell,mouth open to greet whichever of my murderers is finally back, while probably delivering some unhelpful quip about them taking their time.

In fact, I walk back toward the stairs as the footsteps get louder, the tightness in my chest fading with every step. ThankGodI don’t have to worry anymore. I can finally stop fretting, panicking, and?—

Unfortunately, the person who staggers out of the stairwell is neither Ravage nor Harrow. The man stumbles out onto the carpet, head turning rapidly until his eyes find mine.

I don’t know him.

But he certainly looks like he’s been having a hard time.

“You…you’re…” He’s panting, his shoulders heaving, and there’s a cut on his face that’s bleeding sluggishly. “I need your help.”

Fuck.

My mouth is still open, but I have no idea what to say. I step back once, then again, the uncertainty clear on my face as my hands clench and unclench at my sides. I don’t know what to do. Hell, I’m definitely not prepared for this situation, and all I can do is stare at him with surprise and trepidation.

If he’s here, where arethey?

They can’t be dead…right?

“What…happened?” I finally murmur, feeling myself about to shake into pieces. The fear mixes with confusion, leaving me feeling like a deer in headlights.

“These two men in masks they…fuck, they were going to kill me. And then I found out the doors are fucking chained shut, so I can’t get out.” He snarls out a laugh, running his hand through his messy blond hair. He looks to be in his thirties, if I had to guess, with muddy brown eyes and a pale complexion that isn’t helped at all by the lack of light in the hall.

“Oh.” That’s all I can say, because I’m too afraid to ask about them.

“I just need to find a way out. I need…” he trails off, looking at me with a sudden clarity. “Wait. You can’t have just wandered in here. Not with the doors locked. No, you’vebeenhere, haven’t you?”

Fuck. I really would prefer it if he was as confused as I am, instead of apparently puzzling this out faster than he should.

“You’re withthem,aren’t you?”

Double fuck.

I don’t know what to say or how to respond. I don’t know how to deny it when there’s nothing plausible about what I would say.

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