Page 16 of No Control

Fuck. Maybe this was a mistake.

“Too late,” I mutter inaudibly as I close the laptop. I give my eyes a second to adjust, and then head down the hallway. I pass a bathroom and two spare bedrooms, their doors wide open. One looks like some sort of study or office with shelving lining the walls and the second has a treadmill. As I reach the end of the hall, my heart rate kicks up a notch.

There’s a dog in there.

The reminder keeps me on my toes as I peer at her door. If I reach out and turn that knob, and the dog wakes up to protect the house, I could be sent running. If I open the door and the dog remembers the protein bar in my pocket, I could also be left running. If I open the door, and the dog doesn’t move, I’ll get to view Lydia at one of her most vulnerable positions.

The risk is great, but damn, the reward is enticing.

I take a slow, steady breath as my fingers brush the doorknob. This isn’t what I said I would do. I said I was going to play it safe, let her come to me, and here I am, on the brink of screwing it all up…

So I release the knob.

Talk about an exercise of patience.

seven

Lydia

My eyes flutter open, the light streaming through the thin material of the curtains covering my bedroom window. Mason wanted blackout curtains, but I like waking up with the sunrise. As I roll over onto my side, Duke raises his head, his tail slapping the bed.

“Lemme guess,” I begin, brushing my blonde hair from my face. “You need to go potty?”

He tilts his head and then jumps up, whining and shaking his butt at me. I blow out a sharp breath and sit up, the chill in the air causing my skin to prickle. I flip the covers back and grab my cardigan. After I pull it on, I pick up my phone from the nightstand.

I know you’re the right person.

I stare at the text as the chills run down my spine. I didn’t reply to him last night, unsure of what to say. I’ve already made up my mind that I’m not going to California—I’m not going anywhere with him.

Duke whining at the door draws me out of my thoughts and I sigh, placing my phone in the pocket of my black sweater. I wrap it around my body tighter as I unlock and open the bedroom door.

I take a step forward and run right into the back of Duke. “What’s wrong?” He always takes off like a jet down the hallway.

But not this morning.

He’s standing stark still, his entire body rigid. And then he growls. I pedal backward, not stopping until I’m at my nightstand again. I pull open the drawer and retrieve my pistol. I rack it and return to Duke.

“Okay, let’s go.”

It’s overkill. I know that. But with Duke’s new habit of growling, I’m not taking any chances. I walk slowly down the hallway, hair bristling on the back of my neck.

But after a quick and thorough check, my house is empty.

Duke runs to the back door, whining more incessantly than ever.

I groan, feeling stupid for even freaking out. My house is locked up tight—and it always is. Not to mention, Duke would alert, right? He’d do more than growl. He'd bay, bark, or something.

Maybe.

He’s never been in that kind of situation, but he didn’t like Mason when he met him. In fact, he snapped at him twice over touching me. My dog would definitely attack someone with bad intentions. I set the gun on the kitchen counter and remove the bar in the track of the door, flip the lock, and slide it open, pulling the curtains with it.

Duke takes off at a sprint, and I follow him out, peering out into the morning. It’s quieter than normal as Duke tears off into the woods. I try to follow him with my eyes, but I lose him in the thick brush.

And then he starts barking.

What the hell?

I squint out into the deep woods, trying to retrace where I had just watched him run—but I can’t see him. I spin around and head back into the house, grabbing the pistol off the counter and returning to the deck.

---