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MADISON

B right light causes me to squint, and I raise a hand, shielding my eyes. Slowly sitting up, I look around, taking in my childhood bedroom.

Glancing down at my clothing, I still wear what I had on yesterday.

Birds chirp outside, calling to me. Stretching my arms overhead, I yawn, moving my neck from side to side, trying to work out the kinks. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I get up and head to the window.

Not much has changed as I gaze around the yard, nostalgia wrapping around me. Taking a deep breath, I feel relaxed for the first time in over a week.

A slow smile stretches across my lips, feeling foreign. I relish in the moment, peace stealing over me. I know it’ll be short-lived, as the darkness is already clawing and beckoning, ready to pull me under.

But for a few moments, I delight in the feel of the light pouring through the window, warming my skin through the glass. Closing my eyes, I tilt my face, reveling in the feel of it.

After several beats, I lower my face to the window, opening my eyes.

Disbelief rolls over me, and I freeze, my muscles tightening. A figure dressed all in black, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his hood pulled up so it obscures his face, stands in the yard beside the large maple tree.

Although I can’t see his eyes, I know he’s watching me.

Fear crawls up my spine, my feet rooted to my bedroom floor, my eyes blinking rapidly. There’s a sinister aura about him… along with something else.

Something that unnerves the hell out of me.

My breathing increases, and my heartbeat races.

The way he stands there, completely motionless, distresses me. The heat of his stare bores into me. Despite not being able to see his face, it’s as though he’s looking straight into my soul, stripping me bare.

I hate it.

At the same time, I never want him to stop.

I like the way he’s obsessively staring at me. As though I’m the only thing he sees.

What. The. Actual. Fuck is wrong with me? I have a boyfriend, yet I’m titillated by some strange guy staring at me.

He tilts his head slightly so I can see the beautifully menacing smile on his face. How the fuck can a smile be so beautiful, yet cause sheer panic?

I’m convinced he’s the guy I felt staring at me at the cemetery yesterday because of his intense, strip-me-bare stare. And again last night, when I looked out the bathroom window, yet saw nothing.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out, trying to calm myself. You’re overreacting , I tell myself as I focus on my breathing.

Maybe he’s a figment of your imagination because you’re going insane .

When I open my eyes, he’s gone.

Pressing my nose and hands against the glass, I stare at the spot where he last stood, then scrutinize every inch of the backyard within view from this window.

There’s no sign of him. I’m relieved… and disappointed.

A fter a nice, hot shower, I change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt and head downstairs. The smell of bacon draws me to the kitchen, and I smile as I see my mom standing in front of the stove, cooking.

She turns to me as she hears my approaching footsteps. “Morning, Maddie. How’re you feeling?”

“Morning, Mom.” I force my tone to be cheerful as I grab the back of the barstool. Pulling it out, I take a seat at the kitchen island. “Confused. What am I still doing here? Are Ben and Chloe here?”

Mom turns back to the stove, stirring the pancake mix a few more times before she pours it onto the griddle. “I’m making bacon, pancakes, and eggs.” She pauses, setting the mix on the counter beside her, then cracks a few eggs into a bowl. “You disappeared last night. When I went in search of you, I found you fast asleep on the bed, holding your stuffed animal. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” She stirs the eggs before pouring them into a skillet. “Ben and Chloe left, heading back to the apartment since they both had to work the morning shift. He said he texted you.” Shit. I never checked my phone this morning, which is unlike me.

I nod, disappointed Ben didn’t stay here with me, but I try not to react. I feel my mom’s eyes on me, so I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly as though it’s fine.

Sliding from the stool, I head to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “I haven’t checked my messages yet.”

My mom nods. Opening the refrigerator door, I duck behind it, letting the cool air soothe me as I swallow the hurt. Grabbing a bottle of water, I straighten, closing the door. My thoughts whirl as I unscrew the cap, taking a long drink.

Why did Ben and Chloe leave and not wake me up? And why the hell do I feel uncomfortable that they were alone together in the apartment the three of us share?

“I didn’t realize you’d be here, and I was planning to run into work for a bit this morning.” Her gaze moves from me to the food she’s cooking. “But if it’s a problem…”

I can tell from her tone she doesn’t like the disruption. My presence here is interrupting her plans.

Putting on a brave face, I give her a smile. “It’s fine, Mom. Don’t change your plans. I have some things I can do here…”

My mom’s tense shoulders relax, and she gives me a smile. “Great. When I get back, we can spend some time together.” She happily resumes cooking, an extra spring in her step now that I’m not disrupting her life. “Oh, and Maddie… I know the reading of your father’s will isn’t for a few days, but he’s leaving you his Mustang.” She nods in the direction of the door leading from the kitchen to the garage, the keys to the vehicles hanging on hooks from a small shelf. “If you need to go anywhere…”

“Sure.” I force my voice to sound light and airy, like I’m perfectly fine, despite the lump in my throat. I’m thrilled I’m inheriting my dad’s Mustang, yet hurting so damn badly that I’m alone.

Again.

One fucking day after my dad’s funeral and all I have is my dad’s car.

On the verge of tears, I say, “I’m gonna grab my cell. I’ll be right back.” Hurrying away without waiting for a response, I take deep breaths to hold in the tears until I reach the safety of my bedroom.

Closing the door, I lean against it, succumbing to the loneliness swirling inside me. I know it’s unfair for me to expect everyone to put their lives on hold for me, yet the emotional part of me wishes they would.

Impatiently wiping away my tears, I push off the door, heading to the nightstand, where I see my phone. I don’t even remember taking it out of the pocket of the dress I was wearing and setting it there. Swiping it from the nightstand, I sit on the bed, reading Ben’s text.

Ben: Hey, baby. I hope you slept well. I came into your room to find you, but you were sound asleep.

A second message is beneath it, sent a couple of minutes after the first one.

Ben: I wanted to stay but figured your mom wouldn’t like me crawling into bed with you. I didn’t think I’d get any sleep if I wasn’t next to you and since I had to work this morning, I went home.

Me: Sorry I fell asleep. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I wish you would have stayed but understand why you didn’t. I’ve never had a guy stay over, so not sure how my mom would have reacted. But she probably wouldn’t have liked it, even though I’m an adult.

I’m about to stand up when I see another text from him.

Ben: Don’t apologize. You need sleep. Do you want me to pick you up after I get off work? We can get ice cream.

My smile is wide as I read his text. His words help ease my loneliness.

Me: There’s only one problem. Dad is giving me his Mustang and Mom said I could have it before the will is read.

Ben: That’s awesome. I know how much he loved that car. We can get ice cream, then come back and get the Mustang afterward, if that works for you. Or if you want to stay at your mom’s, I can drop you off there. It’s up to you.

Wow! He’s being super nice and understanding. Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve been a burden to him because of my grief, so I’m a little surprised by how nice he’s being.

Me: Sure. That sounds like a plan.

Ben: Okay. See you at 3:30.

I look at my phone again, but there are no texts from Chloe. Why didn’t she stay here with me?

And why does it still bother me that she and Ben were alone in our apartment?