Page 102 of Break The Ice

Chapter twenty-five

Ryann

My eyes fly open,and it takes a second before I remember that I’m lying in the pack’s bed. The nightmare still has a grip on me. I fight to remember what it was that I dreamed that made me so scared, but it’s slipping away. The soft strains of a lullaby play softly through the house, almost inaudible. They penetrate my exhausted brain like a double shot of caffeine, waking me up in half a second. I only need to have heard two notes to know what it is.

I wiggle out of the arms holding me and go to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against it. I’m coated in sweat and trembling. With a backwards glance at the bed to make sure no one is watching, I pull the knife I’ve stashed in the room out of its hiding place behind the dresser.

The video recordings go through my mind, and I glance back at the walk-in robes, they are big enough for someone to hide in. It would be impossible, right? There couldn’t be anyone in there. But now that I've thought it, I can almost see him staring back at me. I hold the knife out in a trembling hand and force myself to take step after step. I’m barely breathing when I flick the light on.

Nothing.

I advance into the ensuite, and once I’ve cleared it, come out. There’s only one other spot he can hide. I get down on my hands and knees, having visions of the last time I did this. My heart pounds in my chest as I duck down, knife held ready, and scan under the bed.

Nothing. Thank fuck! I’m so relieved Ifeel weak.

“Ryann?”

I jump up and put my free hand over Wren’s mouth.

He stiffens immediately and rolls off the bed, cocking his head and listening to the music downstairs, but his movement wakes the others.

Wren grabs his hockey stick and walks towards the door. Raider a second behind him. I follow as Kit and Callan stay in the bedroom to call the police.

Wren checks the whole upstairs first, going from room to room, Raider at his back, but I stay on the landing, watching the lower floor, praying I don’t see anything. The music is coming from downstairs.

I bite the inside of my cheek and squeeze my hand into a fist so tight it’s painful.

I step onto the first step and crouch, trying to see as much of the bottom floor as I can. From here, I can see the office door is open. My heart slams against my ribs, and I break into a cold sweat. I grip the knife harder and scan the space for movement.

Wren and Raider reappear and lead the way down the stairs. Raider puts a hand on my shoulder and whispers to stay in place.

I don’t want to, but it’s safer this way.

The two of them spread out, turning lights on and searching until they stop in the office. Callan and Kit come down the stairs, pulling me with them until the five of us are in Callan’s sacred space. Callan takes his seat and starts rapidly tapping keys.

“The back door lock is broken,” Wren says.

“How did he get past the alarms and motion detectors?” Kit asks.

“It would appear he turned the power off and on,” Callan says. “Power went out at One thirty four am and came back on at two ten.”

“What was he doing in here for that long?” Kit asks.

None of us have an answer.

The cops arrive. This time, it’s a young pair. They show very little interest. No property was damaged, no one was harmed, and, once again, they have no idea who did it. They take the statements, look around, but ultimately leave.

Kit hands me a coffee and sits down at the table beside Callan.

None of us say anything. The tension between us is thick with disappointment and fear.

“I’m sorry I brought this down on you!” I whisper.

Raider shifts, and Callan glances at him sharply.

“Don’t do it, Raider.”

Raider purses his lips and shakes his head. “It’s got to be said, Callan. She deserves a choice.”

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