Page 96 of Coach
Dammit.
No.
I wasn’t going to take on the blame.
I’d done that once.
I’d made myself sick with it.
This wasn’t on me.
This was on him.
And his sick mind.
I knew what he’d done. He’d watched me for a while. Maybe even from the empty house across the street. He got to know my schedule, making sure he knew any of the variables.
Only then did he move in, did he start doing whatever it was he was doing next door. Planning. Plotting. Watching.
God, how often was he watching me?
When I was outside with Trix, for sure. When I was working outdoors.
But did he also look in my windows?
More horrific, did he put holes in the walls I hadn’t noticed? Had he broken in and planted hidden cameras?
In my bedroom?
In the bathroom?
Horror, cold and slimy, spread across my skin, sank inward.
You’d think you could get used to that invasion. But I never could. It was a violation each time.
“I can scream with you, if you want,” he went on. Then he sucked in a breath and did just that.
Jesus.
He was insane.
I mean, he’d always been warped. You had to be to do what he did. Especially for this long. But this was the first time he seemed genuinely unhinged.
I was glad I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark because I was pretty sure they might freeze me on the spot if I did.
For the first time in my life, I was thankful for the shadows all around me as I finally found the strength to push myself off the floor.
My heart ached at the idea of leaving Trix there on the floor all by herself. But she was alive. Breathing. She would come to.I hoped.
But I couldn’t help her, get her to a vet, if I was kidnapped or dead.
I had to save myself to save her.
I ran my fingers over her soft fur one last time, then I threw myself backward, scuttling across the floor, making my way toward one of my drawers.
“Are you looking for the knives?” he asked, voice chilling.
I knew before I even put my hand in the drawer that it was empty, that he’d been prepared for this.
