Page 155 of Love at First Fright

Terror struck like lightning. My entire body went rigid, every muscle locking. Was it Brad? Had he heard us? Was he standing outside the door right now, salt and holy water in hand?

“Close your eyes.”

I snapped them shut instantly, squeezing tightly, pulse thundering.

Bat’s fingers moved near my ear, before he yanked on a couple of strands of hair.

“Ow!”

“Got you, you bastard.”

My eyes flew open just as he flicked something off the side of the bed with obvious satisfaction.

“Money spider,” he said, brushing his hands together. “Got it. You’re safe now.”

I shivered horribly, scratching at the spot near my ear where the evil little creature had dared to climb. My skin crawled with phantom legs, invisible webs clinging to every inch of me.

“Told you I’d always protect you,” Bat said with a smile.

It should have been a joke. Light. Teasing. But the way he said it—too serious, too intense—made my breath catch. We stared at each other, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

We shouldn’t be intense with each other. We couldn’t be this intense.

Tell that to my heart, going thump, thump, thump.

Bat cleared his throat, looking away first.

“Lily laughs so much at me about it. The spider thing. She’s just a kid, but she hunts down every spider in my flat without hesitation, rolling her eyes at her pathetic uncle cowering on the sofa.”

Bat chuckled. “She sounds like a firecracker. How did this whole spider phobia thing happen anyway? If you can tell me without having a panic attack. Have you always been this terrified?”

I pulled the duvet up to my chest, suddenly cold. “No. It started when I was about six or seven.”

The memory surfaced unbidden. Razor-edged and visceral.

“We’d gone camping. Family holiday in the Lake District. I wandered off from our campsite—you know how kids do. Following some interesting bird or butterfly or whatever.”

Bat nodded, settling beside me with that careful stillness ghosts seemed to master.

“Found this old stone wall. Proper ancient thing, all covered in ivy. There was a gap at the bottom, like a little cave. Perfect for a curious kid to explore.”

My throat tightened. Even now, twenty-seven years later, the memory made my palms sweat.

“I squeezed inside. It was dark, cramped. Cobwebs everywhere, but I didn’t care. I was an explorer, wasn’t I? Adventure called.”

The walls of that tiny space pressed in around me again. Damp stone. The smell of decay.

“I reached forward, trying to find the back wall.” My palm tingled with the phantom sensation. “Put my hand straight into a spider’s nest. Eggs burst under my fingers. Hundreds of tiny spiders swarming up my arm, into my hair, down my shirt.”

I could feel them again. Tickling. Crawling. Multiplying.

“I screamed and tried to back out, but I was stuck. The gap was too narrow. The more I panicked, the worse it got. Spiders everywhere, and me trapped in this tiny space, unable to move.”

Bat’s eyes widened in alarm. “Holy shit, Charlie.”

“Took my dad twenty minutes to find me. By then I was hyperventilating, covered in bites, absolutely hysterical.” I scratched at my arms unconsciously. “Never quite got over it.” To put it mildly.

My stomach churned, that familiar nausea rising. The room felt smaller suddenly. Walls pressing closer.