Page 198 of Midnights
I keep moving, one foot in front of the other. My heartbeat still hasn’t settled, but I bet if I took off my boots this nice evening stroll wouldn’t be so bad.
The night is still too quiet. I can feel something watching me, and I wonder if it's that same guy.
I shake the thought loose, focusing on the sound of my own footsteps and the crunch of gravel beneath my boots. I’m almost there. Just a few more blocks, and I can collapse into bed and pretend none of this ever happened.
I don't notice it at first, but then I hear the low rumble of an engine coming up behind me. I tense, glancing over my shoulder just as headlights cut through the street. My stomach knots and I can feel the dread crawling up my spine as the car slows beside me.
Can’t a girl catch a break?
I brace myself, curling my hands into fists, until the window rolls down. “Miss Taylor! You forg—” The driver’s words die in his throat as he squints, looking at me. “Are you all right?”
I blink, trying to pull my scattered thoughts together, but I can’t. I don’t even know what I look like right now, but thank God all the lights broke, so he can’t really see me.
He’s holding my phone, but I keep my arms folded tightly across my chest, hiding the cut and, honestly, my nerves. A few minutes ago, I was ready to beg for help. But right now I just need to get home as quickly as possible without anyone causing a scene.
“I’m okay,” I manage, taking the phone from his outstretched hand, trying to avoid his gaze.
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Are you sure?” His eyes flick to my trembling hands. “You look—”
“I said I’m fine.” The words lash out before I can reel them back in. His brows shoot up, and I blow out a breath, forcing a calmer tone. “Sorry, I just… it’s been a long night.”
He hesitates, clearly torn, then sighs. “Lass, I know you said you wanted to walk, but it's coming down proper now. Won’t you let me take you the last bit? Please?”
For once, I listen to reason. This might actually be the smartest thing I've done all day.
“Sure,” I murmur, sliding into the back seat. The heat coming from the vents wrap around me, grounding me just enough to steady my heartbeat. The hum of the engine settles in my bones, but my hands won’t stop shaking.
When I lift one to wipe my nose, I freeze.
The sight of blood smudged across my fingers sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me. Great. A bloody nose to go with my bloody arm.
I angle my body away, hoping the dim light and the driver’s focus on the road will keep him from noticing.
The minutes stretch on, the drive feeling impossibly slow. I try to replay the fight, trying to understand what the hell just happened, but the moment I reach for the memory of him screaming and the lights shattering, my thoughts skitter away, a black void swallowing them whole.
We pull up to the house and the soft glow of the porch light flickers through the rain.
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. The moment the car slows to a stop, I push the door open and step into the downpour, barely acknowledging his murmured “Stay safe” before shutting the door behind me. “Thank you.”
I force my feet to move, making my way toward the house. All I can hear is my heels against the wet gravel path. My dress clings to me, heavy and cold, while every drop of rain only adds to the exhaustion dragging at my limbs. My arm aches, my head pounds, but none of it compares to the pain in my side right now. And then there’s the sickening feeling still coiling in my gut.
So when I see movement out of the corner of my eye, I freeze.
It moves again and I huff out a laugh at myself. It’s just a dog. Relief flutters through me, but it doesn’t last. Every instinct I have is screaming that everything is a threat. I just need to go inside. Then I can lay down.
Normally, I’d be the first to crouch down, to make some ridiculous noise, and try to coax it over. But after tonight? I’m not taking any chances, and if I don’t get inside soon, Rachel will find me out here on the driveway in the morning.
I walk faster, even though every inhale and every step sends shooting pain through my body. And when I look back, the dog is gone.
Nothing moves in the trees, but that feeling doesn’t leave. It clings to me like an invisible weight pressing against my spine. My fingers tremble as I wrap them around the doorknob, twisting it with more force than necessary.
The second I’m inside, I shut the door behind me, leaning back against it as if that thin barrier could keep all the chaos out.
I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling deeply, trying to steady my pulse. But as I press my hand to my chest, only one thought settles deep in my bones.
Someone is looking for me.
