Page 22 of Like A Moth To A Flame

Reluctantly, he did as I told him, slamming his boot down onto the accelerator. We jerked forward, the tires squealing and smoke billowing out behind us in the darkness. The headlights lit up the road, illuminating the trees on either side of the road, flashing past us at top speed. I couldn’t see the speedometer, and I didn’t need to. It was dangerous, and that’s all I needed to know.

The wind ripped through my hair, stabbing tears from my eyes. The rush of adrenaline pounded in my ears, and goosebumps stood in spiked peaks across my arms.

Still, Barrett had a death grip on my skirt, and I laughed, the sound barely audible against the roar of the engine. What did he think that was gonna do if we hit a bump and I went flying? Not much. Maybe the coroner would find me naked from the waist down.

We crested a hill, and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach and straight into my core.

I liked it. Ilikedto be scared.

The gravel road leading to my dad’s house came into view, and Barrett slowed to a reasonable speed. It had only been ten to fifteen seconds max, but it was somehow exactly what I needed.

I plopped down in my seat and grinned over at Barrett.

“You,” he grunted, his teeth ground together. “Are one crazy little pistol, you know that?”

“Meh,” I shrugged, running my hands through my tangled chestnut waves. It was knotted. That was gonna suck. “Just having some fun.”

Slowly, Barrett turned into the driveway, and the joy in my heart fell to emptiness when I saw the dull glow of the porch light shining across the front porch.

I knew I didn’t leave that on.

“There is fun,” Barrett said with a sigh, flipping the car off. When he pulled the keys out and handed them to me, I could feel his fingers shaking. “And then there is fuckin’ dumb.”

I shrugged, forcing a smile. Now, my heart was pounding for a whole different reason.

“Sometimes it’s fun to be dumb,” I said, grabbing my shoes and stepping out of the car. Barrett grumbled something as he exited, making his way to his cherry red Chevy.

“Call me if you need me,” he said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “I’ve got a few things to do tomorrow, but when I’m done, we can get back to cleanin’. Alright?”

“Sure thing,” I said, stepping up the porch. I waited until he pulled down the long, winding driveway before I lifted my house key.

I fed it into the lock and turned it, but it didn’t click. Narrowing my eyes, I tried the handle.

It was already unlocked.

I hadn’t left it that way. I know I didn’t. I didn’t leave the door unlocked.

Swallowing hard, I let the front door swing open, revealing the yawning darkness of the house. At one time, the dark had been comforting—after all, I could be alone in the darkness.

Except now? I knew I was anything but alone.

I reached over and flipped the foyer light on with a shaking hand. Nothing. It was the same as I’d left it. Was he in the house with me? Was my stalker here?

I shivered. I wish I had my dad’s pistol.

I could go upstairs and get it, but what if whoever had gotten into the house had found it first? I moved towards the stairs, looking up into the shadows of the landing, and a shiver raced through me.

Should I chance it?

Just as I’d lifted my foot to ascend the stairs, the shrill shriek of the phone tore through the house, and the breath I’d been holding escaped in a scream of my own. My hand flew to my chest, feeling the ceaseless slamming of my heart against my sternum.

It was him. It was, wasn’t it?

It rang again, and this time the hair on my arms stood on end, and I felt every muscle stiffen.

I forced myself to move, stepping through the kitchen doorway. I made it to the phone and snatched it off the hook, lifting it to my ear.

“Listen asshole! I don’t know who you think you’re—”

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