Daddy James

9 : The Night

The question plagued Sarah, swirling like a storm in her mind, its center a name she dreaded yet couldn't ignore: Lucy. What could James possibly want to discuss about her? Sarah's thoughts were a maelstrom of suspicion and fear, each possibility darker than the last. With every step she took across the soft carpet of her room, a new scenario unfolded in her mind, each more menacing than the last.

Clad in her comfort—the grey pajamas adorned with a whimsical Bambi print that belied the seriousness of her current dilemma—Sarah found no comfort in the familiar. The soft fabric felt like armor too flimsy for the battle ahead. Her arms were tightly crossed, as if holding herself together, while she paced the length of her room under the dim light that barely chased away the shadows.

Memories of their last encounter at James' cabin pressed in on her, unbidden, like specters at the edge of her consciousness. Her apprehension grew, a tangible thing that seemed to feed on her fear. Could James be so audacious as to target Lucy now? Was this another vile strand in his web of schemes, using Lucy's name to extricate himself from the financial quagmire he had created? Or, worse yet, was this invitation a ploy to ensnare her, Sarah, once more within his dangerous orbit?

A momentary distraction came in the form of her nails, bitten down and neglected, a stark reminder of the personal care she'd sacrificed at the altar of this ongoing conflict. It was a small, inconsequential thing, yet it highlighted how far she had strayed from herself in this bitter feud.

But the stakes were too high, and Lucy's name being invoked was a clarion call she couldn't ignore. With resolve steeling her heart, Sarah knew she had to confront James, to dive once more into the fray and unravel his machinations. Her resolve was her shield, her love for Lucy the sword she wielded against the darkness she was about to step into.

Returning momentarily for her forgotten slippers, Sarah's actions mirrored the turmoil within—determined yet hesitant, bold yet fearful. The wide hallway seemed to stretch before her, an expanse fraught with uncertainty. Each step towards James' bedroom was a battle, her heart racing with a cacophony of emotions—dread, determination, and an underlying current of defiance.

Approaching the door, her breath caught in her throat, the sound of her own heartbeat deafening in her ears. Closer now, each heartbeat a drum of war, faster, echoing the tumult of her thoughts. The once familiar path now felt like a labyrinth, each step fraught with peril.

And there, at the door, she hesitated—a final pause on the threshold of confrontation. Crouching silently, her breath shallow, Sarah pressed her ear against the cold wood, straining for any sound. In this moment, she was not just Sarah; she was a warrior poised at the edge of battle, bracing for what lay beyond. The air felt thick, her lungs starved for oxygen, as she prepared to face whatever darkness awaited her inside.

Under the shroud of night, the hallway stood silent and deserted, an eerie calm pervading the air. Sarah's heart thrummed in her chest as she surveyed her surroundings, seeking signs of watchful eyes or eavesdropping ears. Finding none, she allowed herself a moment of respite, her head coming to rest on the cool, white-tiled floor that mirrored the ceiling lights with uncanny precision. The memory of her last encounter in this den of the beast—James' room—loomed large in her mind, fueling a cautious approach. "No way I'm walking into that trap without checking first," she muttered to herself, a blend of determination and dread coloring her whispered vow.

Peering through the slender gap beneath the door, Sarah's gaze swept across the room's familiar, yet ominous, interior. The black synthetic leather recliner, a silent sentinel in the corner, caught her attention first, a stark reminder of James' habitual presence. Her eyes drifted next to the dusky grey chaise lounge, an unwelcome companion to the shadows that clung to the edges of the room, before finally landing on the imposing sight of the vast bed, ominously positioned at the room's heart. Yet, James was nowhere within her line of sight.