Page 36 of The House on Prytania
“I know. I know,” he said. His voice was very close to my ear as he patted my back as if I were a small child.
“They were there.” My voice shook, embarrassing me. I forced my jaw to be still and repeated it. “They were there.”
“I believe you,” Beau said, his breath warm on my neck.
Little by little, I felt myself relax, and I rested my head on his chest below his chin, the rhythm of his heart in my ear.
“I was so scared,” I muttered sleepily.
“So was I.”
I sat up, our faces close together. “What did you see?”
“I’m not sure. It started as a dark spot on the far wall, and then it grew and became three-dimensional and... real. Except there weren’t any features. And it seemed to move like...” His voice trailed away.
“Like an oil slick?”
“Yeah. Exactly. Did you see it, too?”
I shook my head. “I only saw the—” I shuddered, unable to say the word “roaches.” “But I saw the shadow. It’s on the video Jolene and Jaxson made here yesterday. It’s the one with Mardi doing tricks, and it’s in the background. Inside the closet.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I tried to pull away, but his arms held me. “I tried. I texted you. I asked if you could talk and you said no.”
He narrowed his eyes as he thought, then opened them again with realization. “Oh, yeah. I remember now. I was... busy.”
I wanted to ask him what had been keeping him so busy, but my jaw started to tremble again, the shaking spreading through my body like a heat rash. Beau pressed my head against his chest and tightened his arms around me. “I’ve got you now.” He spoke softly in my ear, creating a whole new set of goose bumps on my neck. “I would have been scared, too.”
“I wasn’t scared,” I mumbled into his shirt.
His chest rumbled as he laughed. “I’m sure. It must have been someone else screaming.”
I sat up again. “I wasn’t screaming. I was just... shouting. For someone to open the door, because it was locked.”
Beau’s eyes were serious now. “It wasn’t locked, Nola. I pulled it open without any trouble.” He shook his head before I could protest. “I believe you. Obviously, there’s something going on here.”
“But what? I can’t live here with something that doesn’t want me here. It was—”
“Terrifying.”
“Yeah. That.”
He kept looking at me, as if expecting me to say something more. “Oh. Right.” I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Beau. For saving me from... whatever that was. Even though I didn’t—”
“Don’t say it. Because that will make you look ungrateful. And then the next time I might not just drop everything to come save you.”
“I don’t need—”
He put his finger against my lips. “Don’t ruin it.”
Our eyes met, and I forgot what I’d been about to say. His thumb traced the edges of my mouth, the smell of his skin hauntingly familiar, a ghostly reminder of the night he’d spent on my couch.
“Just when I’m starting to think that you’re mad at me or really hate me, I’m reassured when I’m the first person you call when you’re in trouble. I’m trying to figure out what that means.”
I wanted to give him a few pointed suggestions, but the movement of his thumb against my skin mesmerized me, softening my body so that I relaxed into the curve of him. We fit together seamlessly, without any awkwardness, like solid wooden joists that understood the burdens of time and air and needed no adjustments.
Beau pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m just glad you texted me. I don’t want to think about how long you’d have been stuck inside there.”
