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It was right about then, too, that a new, horrifying thought flashed across my mind.
The door was unlocked.
I could walk right in.
So could anyone else.
You know... like the toothless mountain people I had imagined earlier.
Taking a deep breath, I crept along the front wall, glancing into the room to the left—a spacious dining room with a massive table meant to seat twenty, and sideboards that spanned the entire far wall. There was a doorway that I imagined led to the kitchen.
Steeling my nerves, trying to remind myself how absurd I was being, I moved around the dining room, reaching in to flick on the kitchen light, feeling my chest loosen a bit to find it empty.
It was another oversize space with its light cabinets that matched the log walls, its stainless steel countertops and appliances, and the island that made all other islands feel inferior.
I moved into the kitchen, opening and closing drawers until I found the one I was looking for. The knife drawer. I grabbed the biggest one, hand tightening on the handle.
Overreacting? Yes.
But as the house groaned around me, I decided it was always better to be ridiculous than ambushed and murdered.
And because I had seen more than a few horror movies in my day, I decided not to be the idiot girl who went down into the basement—inexplicably in her underwear—to investigate strange noises.
Nope.
I held onto my phone.
And I sat and waited for someone to rescue me from my neurosis.
The minutes turned into hours, marked by a cuckoo clock somewhere in the house, a sound that would normally have made me smile, but given that I was alone and creeped out, I went ahead and decided it was freaky.
Then I heard it.
Crunching.
Like shoes on the gravel driveway. Followed by silence as, I imagined, those same feet made their way up the front path. Right up to the door I'd stupidly left unlocked behind me.
Taking a deep breath, I stayed exactly where I was, knife raised, waiting as the sound of clunky feet moved through the foyer, then the dining room, following the path of light I'd stupidly left.
Big, male feet.
When I worked at an almost exclusively female company.
I was seconds from darting through the blackened part of the rest of the house, hoping I could make my way outside and into the relative safety of my rental car when the footsteps came into the kitchen.
And there he was.
Our sole male employee.
Rush Rivers.
The best looking man the entire world had to offer, if you asked me, anyway.
Tall and fit in a way that said he definitely hit the gym on occasion, with dark hair and these velvety smooth dark eyes that were framed with impressive lashes, he was in jeans and a black thermal, hair disheveled from travel.
His gaze fell on me, going almost immediately to the knife in my hand, making me drop it as though it was suddenly burning me.
"Little creeped out, huh, Katie?" he asked, giving me that boyish smile that made all the women in the office fawn over him.
Katie.
He was the only person in the whole world who called me Katie.
My hand went to my heart, and I couldn't be sure if it was from the fear or the excitement that filled my body when I was around him. Which was rare. And it had been a while since I'd seen him. Working the night shift, he and I rarely had cause to run across each other.
"I, ah, it's very, you know, empty," I mumbled, words tripping over one another. "And there could have been like... bears or cannibalistic mountain people."
"Cannibalistic mountain people, huh?" he asked, eyes dancing.
"I well, no, I guess not. Since, clearly, they would be toothless."
"Clearly," he agreed, lips tipping up.
"So maybe just... murder-happy. I watch too much true crime," I rushed to add even though I typically didn't, save for the occasional new documentary on Netflix that was too hyped up to ignore.
"It's a little creepy out here," he agreed, shrugging. "Especially if you are alone. I thought there would be a host or something. Someone to show us to our rooms and shit."
"Yeah, um, no. I don't think so anyway."
"Looks like we are the early birds then. Want to give ourselves a tour?" he suggested. "We can pick out the best rooms then," he added, giving me a conspiratorial smirk. "Do you want to grab your knife?" he asked, nodding down to it on the floor, all but forgotten since he turned my mind to mush by, you know, existing. "In case of toothless predators hopping out of closets or something," he added, smiling.
"I, ah, no. It's... I'll just hide behind you," I admitted, making a little laugh rumble out of him, way too sexy a sound in such a creepy place.
"It would be an honor to be a human shield for you, baby," he said. It was a throwaway endearment. From what I could tell, he called everyone by them. Honey. Sweetheart. Babe. It meant nothing.
