Page 19 of A Storm of Nightmares

After what feels like twenty minutes, but what is probably actually two, I feel my anxiety rising to a dangerous level. I can’t stand here in the middle of the hallway and let Keith get assaulted. Or worse.

I gulp as I think about the worst-case scenario. Although I don’t hear any signs of a struggle, my imagination is running rampant. I can vividly picture an intruder crashing through a window and Keith running into the living room, unarmed, and getting beaten to a pulp. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and will my body forward.

When I enter the living room, the lights are still out, but there’s just enough sunlight coming through the window so I can see Keith standing over by the couch. I take a moment to register my surroundings. The window is shattered. There’s glass everywhere. Keith is holding something in his right hand, and his left is holding his cell phone to his ear. He’s practically shouting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this upset.

“What the fuck happened?! My security is intact everywhere but the gate!”

...

“No, this is unacceptable! I pay a small fortune for your services, but you can be sure I won’t continue to do so if this is the kind of protection I’m granted! You have two hours to fix it and figure out what went wrong.” With a click, the call is over. Keith is fuming. I hesitantly step closer to him, unsure what to say.

Keith starts to hide whatever is in his hand behind his back. “Kat, please. Go to the surveillance room, shut the door behind you, and lock it.” He’s avoiding eye contact. Tension is radiating off of his body in waves, and it seems I’m in the splash zone. I step closer, avoiding the sharp shards of what was once a large bay window.

“What happened? What’s in your hand?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just a stupid prank.”

“If it was nothing, why am I being banished to the surveillance room?”

Keith lets out a long, exasperated sigh but remains tight-lipped. It makes me shudder. What could be so bad that he’s hiding it from me? He still isn’t revealing whatever is behind his back. I roll my eyes at him, indicating my irritation. “Keith, show me.” I try to reach my arm around him and grab the object, but he steps back, narrowly escaping my effort. “What the hell, Keith? You really are not convincing me of this being a prank at all. If it were, you would show me.”

Keith’s eyes finally meet mine, and I’m shocked at what I see. His blue irises are dilated in fear? Anger? Concern? I can’t quite put my finger on whatever emotion seems to be coursing through him. “I don’t think you should see this. But if you want to, I’m not going to keep it from you. But you need to be prepared. Sit down.”

Sit down? Those two words have suddenly changed my mind. A cold chill races through my entire body. It must be bad if he wants me to take a damn seat. He must think that I’ll faint. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past my frail legs to give out underneath me. There’s a war raging through my mind, pulling me back and forth. I want to know what he’s holding. At the same time, though, I really,reallydon’t.

My hands have started shaking, and my knees feel weak. Reluctantly, I head to the couch before the weak part of my mind wins. I need to know what Keith is hiding. Once I’m seated, with my hands tangled together nervously in my lap, Keith sits beside me.

Before making any moves, Keith gazes at me, and it sends my stomach rolling in nausea. This intense, hooded look is my final warning, and I know that now is my last chance if I want to chicken out. I almost tell him to stop, my nerves getting the better of me. But then I remember what this is all for. Betty. I give an encouraging nod, telling Keith to go for it.

He takes his arm out from behind him and places the object in my hands. I can’t even bring myself to look at it for the longest time. My eyes are locked on the man in front of me.

The thing in my lap is heavy and cold, and it feels smooth to the touch. There’s something on it, too. My thumb slides between the object and whatever’s attached to it, and I hear a faint sound, the tell-tale sign of paper being torn. As if the noise brought me out of this daze, I finally look down. Much to my confusion, there’s a big freaking rock in my lap with a note tapped on one side.

“It’s a rock.” My mind goes blank. That is, for some reason, all I can muster.

“It’s a rock,” Keith replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “Turn it over, Kat.”

I flip it over in my hands, and my eyes quickly scan the harsh scribbles.

You can’t hide from me, Kat.

I told you to stop looking.

You were supposed to be the smart sister.

I’ll be seeing you very soon.

My vision goes blurry, and the rock topples out of my hold and onto the oak floor with a loud thump. My breathing has accelerated, and my heart is trying to force itself out of my rib cage. I grab my chest with my right hand, trying to will my heart and lungs to calm. I’m convinced I’m actually having a heart attack.

Keith moves in closer to me and pulls me into his arms. He doesn’t even have to say a word. His warmth, his scent, just the feeling of his touch is enough to send me over the edge.

I break down completely. I’m sobbing into his chest. Large, hot tears are rolling down my cheeks and falling onto Keith’s white tee. He doesn’t seem to mind. He just holds me tightly, planting small kisses on my head.

“What do I do?” I try to ask in between shaky breaths.

“Youdon’t do anything,” Keith whispers. “I promised to protect you, and I will. I don’t know how Rick got past all my cameras unseen, but my security company is looking into it. They should have an answer for me soon, and we’ll go from there. For now, the safest place in this entire house is the surveillance room, so you’ll wait in there.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

---