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When there was a sharp knock on the door, I grew very still, my breaths spewing out of me. Was this how it was going to be from now on?
It was likely Leonard checking on me. I knew he felt guilty, but I was the idiot who’d left the window open in a first-floor apartment. One I used to feel safe in.
I forced my feet toward the door to glance through the peephole. Nolan was standing there, looking uncertain.
“Everything all right?” I asked, pulling open the door.
“Yeah, I…was gonna ask you the same.” He chewed on his lip. “It doesn’t feel right to just leave you here…”
I looked down. “It’s okay. I was just about to—”
“I can stay and sleep on your couch.” Nolan looked past my shoulder, and I could see the same wariness in his eyes. “Or you can sleep on mine?”
My stomach filled with warmth. Fuck the tough-guy routine. “Yeah?”
His cheeks pulled into a smile. “Yeah, c’mon.”
“First, let me grab—” I looked at myself and was surprised to see I already had on sweats and a hoodie. I must’ve thrown those on before calling the police, but I certainly didn’t remember doing so. Probably the shock. “Never mind.”
I followed him out the door and to the elevator. In a pinch, we’d take the stairs, but somehow Nolan seemed to know the stairwell would be too dark for me, too enclosed a space after what happened.
He got me situated on his couch with sheets and a pillow, and it felt comfortable. It wasn’t like I’d never crashed here before after songwriting sessions or movie marathons. Typically, I’d leave before morning to enjoy my own bed, but now the idea of staying here all night made me feel safer.
My gaze swung toward his window, which mirrored mine. No way anyone would manage coming through the second story.
“They’re locked,” Nolan said as if reading my mind.
“Yeah, of course. Besides, it’s not the first floor…”
“It’s okay.” He patted my shoulder. “No one said fears have to be rational.”
Instead of coming up with a baseless rebuke to make him think I wasn’t scared, I simply nodded. He was my best friend. Why was I trying to act so tough and unbothered?
Nolan brought out a blanket and adjusted it around me like a mother hen. “That okay?”
I could’ve given him shit for it, but exhaustion was setting in. “Yeah, thanks.”
Wednesday didn’t know what to make of the situation as she jumped onto the makeshift bed and began sniffing the sheets. Nolan’s cat had never warmed up to me. In fact, she usually hissed and kept her distance.
“Is she going to scratch my eyes out in the middle of the night?”
“Of course not.” Nolan chuckled. “Just don’t ever try to pick her up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said around a yawn. “Have you ever noticed she has one crooked whisker?”
“It was that way when I got her from the shelter. Maybe she was in a wicked cat fight.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I murmured, keeping my eye on her. “Crooked Whisker would be a good name for a band.”
“We’ll have to remember that for the next band.” He grinned. “Well…goodnight.”
“Night.”
Nolan left his bedroom door open, which made me feel like a little kid who needed a nightlight. Instead, I got Wednesday’s eerie glowing eyes as she perched on the opposite end of the couch and watched me. Wasn’t there a Stephen King movie where the cat sucked the life out of someone while they slept?
“Don’t kill me, horror-movie cat. I’ve been nothing but nice to you.” No way could I fight to keep my eyes open, horror-movie cat or not, so I shut my lids and settled in. But the night came back to me in flashes.
“Don’t fucking look at me,” he’d said, his dark eyes meeting mine as he forced me to my knees. I’d tried to give the police a description as best I could, but all I could name was clothing, eye color, height, the tone of his voice, and how nervous the other man had acted as he’d scooted back out the window with the sack.
My eyes flew open as I began trembling uncontrollably. I pulled the covers more firmly over me like I’d done as a kid, as if they were my shield from the monsters under my bed. That move succeeded in running Wednesday off. I had no idea where she wandered to—probably to sharpen her claws before moving in for the kill—but I was glad for it.
Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep full of nightmares—me down on my knees, with a gun to my head, feeling trapped. Next, running way too slow on a dark, deserted road, my legs heavy and achy, my antagonists right behind me, and every time I thought I could shake them, they would catch up.
