Page 108 of Freaks Of Nature
I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I assure her, a subtle curve to my lips for her concern.
I wipe a hand down my thigh, Laura’s scrutinizing gaze still needling my back when I turn around. Her gut feeling is never wrong. She’s too good at reading people.
I steel my spine and continue my shift, my eyes scanning the street through the large window sporadically wherepuddles are forming over the asphalt. The drizzle has been going for hours, and yet I chose to come to work on foot.
The weather is not the reason I can’t stop checking the window, though. My skin prickles with dread. There’s no black motorcycle parked across the diner, but I doubt a little rain will keep Mason at bay.
“Did you bring your car?”
“No,” I sigh, putting my apron on the hook in the kitchen before facing the expression behind the motherly tone.
Laura nods toward a tall wicker basket near the door. “Take one of our umbrellas when you leave. The rain has picked up, and it’s likely to get worse before it stops. Weatherman says we’re expecting quite the storm,” she supplies, hiking her thumb at Drew’s TV in the back.
I thank her and do as she suggests, but it’s of little use in this storm. I clutch the handle tighter and cower under the umbrella’s shield. Wind whips around me, blowing my hair with wicked fury. I’m freezing.
Stripping my soaked clothes, I step into the shower, turning it as high as the water heater allows me. It’s not hot by any means. It’s just enough to make me more comfortable.
I dry off, brush my teeth, and change into my sleep clothes before returning to my room.
Thunder rolls in the distance as my wary gaze lingers on the window. I double-check the lock before slipping under the covers.
—
I’m jolted out of sleep by a loud crash that rocks my bed like a bomb has gone off outside. Lightning flashes through my room.
My heart punches up my throat as I move, my muscles jittery from the crude awakening. I reach for the lamp on my nightstand, but the room remains cloaked in darkness, other than flickers of more lightning through the curtains. The storm has knocked the power out.
I groan before rolling fully over onto my side to check the time on my phone. It’s 4:42 in the morning. I’ve barely been asleep for an hour. The storm raging outside will likely keep me awake.
Dropping my phone back onto the nightstand, I swallow dryly. My throat is parched, and I forgot to grab some water from the fridge.
“Fuuuck,” I growl into the dark room, then fling the covers aside, bracing for the chill to hit me.
My legs feel like jelly. Reluctantly, I trudge down the hall to the kitchen to lift a bottle from the fridge while lightning and thunder wreck the house simultaneously. At least I don’t need a flashlight.
Cracking the plastic seal, I take several big gulps.
The mouth of the bottle stills against my lips. With the cold water on my tongue, my heartbeat suddenly picks up. The sound of a steady drip reaches my ears.
Instinctively, my eyes shoot to the faucet in the kitchen first, but the sound appears to come from somewhere down the hall. The bathroom, I figure.
Replacing the cap on the bottle, I creep down the hall and turn into the bathroom to check, only to find neither a leaky faucet nor shower head. The tile and sink are bone dry to my touch.
Drip, drip,it goes again behind me.
Lightning streaks through the hallway as I turn over my shoulder, and another round of thunder cracks so close the floorboard beneath my bare feet trembles.
My hackles raise. My breaths fall heavy.
On shaky steps I inch toward my bedroom door. The entire space reveals itself to me bit by bit until I can take in the full sight.
I barely feel the bottle slipping from my grip before the thud registers in my ears. Shoulders heaving, clothes soaking wet, Mason stands in front of the window, the air around him crackling with the same threatening energy as the storm outside. He’s a towering mass of black, sucking the oxygen out of my lungs.
“Mason!” I gasp, my eyes locking with his in shock.
Slick, dark strands drape over his, adding to the menacing look of him. The rest of his face is hidden behind the half skull mask, but I can feel the cruel grin stretching underneath it as shivers chase down my spine. The cut above his eye still looks fresh. It glistens from the rain.
Drip. Drip.
