Page 48 of Love at First Fright

Except I couldn’t move.

Brad appeared around noon. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, scowling.

“Stop making me cups of tea and not telling me.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Three cups. All over the bloody house. I nearly knocked one over in the east wing.”

“Believe me,” I said, “tea is the last thing I want to make for you.”

He muttered something about time wasters and disappeared.

By three o’clock, two problems had emerged. First, I was starving. My stomach cramped and growled, demanding sustenance. Second, Brad would definitely snitch to Gerald that I hadn’t actually worked my hours today. Even though my workday had started with a tumble down a staircase and a potential head injury.

Plus, the cat had vanished.

No sign of him all day. The solitude gnawed at me, worse than the hunger. I’d become used to his company, his warmth. Now the silence pressed down on me.

I dragged myself upright. The room tilted, then settled.

Right. Find Brad. Prove I was working. Locate the cat. Maybe call a taxi and quit this job.

The corridors felt longer than before. Shadows stretched across the floorboards, and every creak made me flinch. I checked over my shoulder constantly, expecting to find something behind me. My pulse kicked wildly in my chest, my wrists, loud enough that I couldn’t hear my own footsteps.

Kitchen: empty.

Dining room: empty.

East wing: nothing but dust and three cups of tea.

The library loomed at the end of the hall. I hesitated outside the door, listening. No giggling. No childish whispers.

I pushed inside.

The broken window gaped open, curtains billowing. I crossed to it, glass crunching under my trainers, and peered out.

Brad marched through the manor’s overgrown garden, his own blue ExorSquad jumpsuit bright against the dead grass. He headed toward the perimeter, where trees crowded the fence line.

At least he hadn’t fucked off and left me here alone.

I dragged myself outside. The air bit at my skin, autumn-sharp, and I shoved my hands into my pockets. Brad stood at the far edge of the grounds, staring up at a small stone structure half hidden by ivy.

A crypt.

My pulse kicked up again, but I forced myself forward. Maybe I could sneak up on him. Scare him. Get some petty revenge for the spider incident.

I crept across the grass, keeping my steps light.

“Decided to finally do some work, Chaz?”

I froze. Brad didn’t turn around.

Mission abandoned.

“I’ve been in the library,” I said. Which wasn’t a lie.

Brad huffed. “This is locked.”