I slink out of his grasp, and his eyes widen when he gets a good look at what I’m wearing. I’m in a white T-shirt that’s currently see-through from the rainstorm. The smallest pair of plaid shorts I own barely covers my rear. My hair is drenched and sticking tomy cheeks, and whatever leftover makeup I went to bed in is surely running down my face. Based on the way he’s looking at me, I’m a mess.
“Alyssa, talk to me. What happened?”
“There’s a ghost in my house. He was in my room at the end of my bed,” I blurt. “He... talked to me. Said he wasn’t there to hurt me.” The words spill out as my body continues to tremble.
Nick’s demeanor shifts from confused to deadly in a split second. “Stay here,” he commands, rushing down a hall. He’s gone for less than a minute, and I stand in the entrance of his home, eyes shifting around warily as I shake from the cold seeping in. When he returns, I start breathing again, grateful to no longer be alone.
“Here. You’re shivering.” He holds out a sweatshirt, averting his eyes.
I’m grateful to see that he’s covered his torso with a sweatshirt too. I take the offered clothing, pulling it over my head. It’s huge, falling to the middle of my thighs, but I appreciate the cover it provides.
Nick moves to a small table and pulls out a gun from a drawer.
“Whoa. What are you doing with that?” I ask, voice pitching in horror.
“I need to go check your house,” he says, inspecting the gun—for what, I have no idea. “Lock the door behind me and don’t answer it for anyone but me. I’ll be back soon.”
I leap forward, eyes wide in fright. “But why do you need that?” I jab my finger at the weapon.
“I don’t know what I’m walking into. If a man is in your house, he could be armed, and I need to protect myself so I can help you.” His voice is calm and reassuring, helping me to relax marginally.
“That isn’t gonna work with a ghost. You need to call someone.” My voice is shrill.
Nick puts the gun back on the table and turns toward me,placing both hands on my shoulders. “Alyssa, listen to me. I know you’re scared and half-asleep, but this isn’t a ghost situation. If a man spoke to you in your house, he’s very real and could be very dangerous. I need to search your place.” His eyes roam my face. “Okay?”
“No. Please. I... I can’t be alone. I’m freaked out.”
He leans down so we’re at eye level. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but I have to. It’s not safe for you to go back to your house until I’ve cleared it. I promise, as soon as I’m done, I’ll come right back here.” He searches my face again. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable.”
He places a large hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be safe here,” he assures me. “There’s a blanket next to the couch.” He tilts his head toward a small black leather sofa in front of a bay window. “Curl up and get warm. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I take a deep breath and nod, not knowing what else to do. He must see something that makes him feel better about leaving me alone because he mimics the nod, turns, and heads through his front door. “Lock it,” he reminds me, before rushing off toward my house.
Jumping into action, I lock the dead bolt on his door, taking a few deep breaths to compose myself. When I turn around, the spacious, dark room before me only manages to kick my imagination into overdrive.
In a corner of the room, a dark presence looms, and my legs begin to shake again.
I flip a switch on the wall and an overhead light shines down, brightening the expansive room. The looming figure that I was sure was preparing to murder me is a whitewashed hutch.
My hand lands over my racing heart. “Holy mother. Pull yourself together, Alyssa.”
My shoulders move as I shake off the fear and walk around in search of more warmth.
I grab the blanket that was just where Nick said it would be and wrap it around myself before slumping down into the couch. My head swivels, taking in the home. For a bachelor pad, it’s rather homey, and that surprises me.
The one-story ranch is one of the smaller homes in the neighborhood, but its open floor plan is spectacular. The vaulted ceilings showcase beams that run the length of the home, from this end all the way to the walled-off section that separates the open space from the hallway that surely leads to the bedrooms.
I have a perfect view of the majority of the place from my perch in the smaller seating area at the front of the house. The walls throughout aren’t simply white. They’re light gray, a shade that favors blue tones and matches perfectly with the gray hardwood. The entire back wall is a darker shade, almost navy in color. It’s hard to tell, as the only lights that are on provide little light to the back of the house.
A two-story stone fireplace takes up the middle of the wall, where a large television hangs just above the bare white mantel.
In the center is a large sectional and two matching chairs that are identical to the leather furniture in this part of the house.
A small dining nook is at the far right corner, where a set of French doors lead to the backyard. There’s a small four-person table, where a laptop currently sits open. A large, framed picture hangs above the table on the side wall, where the kitchen is positioned. I’m too far away to make out what the picture is.
A long island runs parallel to floor-to-ceiling white bookshelves, situated along the wall shielding the bedrooms. A small part of me wants to walk to the shelves and see what treasures it houses. But the bigger, chickenshit part of me remains rooted to this seat.
