.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 43. Whisper or Scream.

.Natalia.

I didn't look back.
Feeling like I could finally think straight for the very first time—I stood up and stretched, moving around the room as quietly as I could, the gun in my hand, the shaking still controlling my limbs and taking it all at once—I should have been exhausted, but for some reason I felt more awake than I had in days.
The small door opened to the sound of rain subtly dripping through the windows, not a storm, but a slight rattle that concealed the sounds of my knees and sneakers crawling away from that closet, trying to move out of that fucking trap.

Wincing as I got up from the ache in my body and sticking the sidearm inside the front pocket of the hoodie, I shuffled to the door; smelling the fresh, damp air and the distinctive verbena scent from Anne's furniture, legs bustling down the foyer and straight to the front door, which was perfectly locked from the inside.

Fuck! There was no sign that the door had been forced, I noticed, as my frozen fingers touched the lock, trying to move it around. But without a key, it was useless.
I thought for a spare minute about Harry's driver, and my hand stopped.

He'd probably been here only to find the door locked and everything quiet.
Possibly left after not getting a response.
Cold air rushed in to embrace me in its wintry grip as my hand wiped the fog on the glass panel. I looked hard enough across the paved yard, where I was able to make out the bulky shape of the Land-Rover and Anne's car just as I pictured them in my head.

The driver left us in here.

A sudden weight settled in my stomach, while I walked away from the entrance, my mind a clouded mess of confusion. Tension radiated off me in waves at the unlooked-for sound of a creaking floorboard, moving down the hall and looking upstairs to notice that Harry's door was open, and out of every single dark spot in the house, the only source of light was coming from that door.

The pounding of my heart a persistent roar that slowly leaped as I tried the phone line by the mismatched couches, gripping the phone like it was my entire universe only to find out that the line was dead. There was no use, as I had not even one helpful number in mind.

I felt something strange inside me, my skin prickling with fresh goosebumps and every hair rising up on end. It was like I'd stepped into a force field, and my every basic instinct was telling me to run, but I wasn't running.
I couldn't. Not with the possibility of him being up there with her.

I held my position for another minute, my mind wandering slowly.
Strange nightmares, threats in the night, the tracking device.
She knew all along where to find us...
I was close to the end, too damn close, and yet it felt like I was right at the beginning.
The same fear, the same confusion.

Heard the noise again.
It was definitely something noticeable, but it wasn't a floorboard, it now sounded like a thud. I walked to the bottom of the steps and silently moved up the stairs, pressing myself up against the stairwell wall and began slowly moving up towards the second floor, the gun now held out in my left hand, safety locks off and ready. I heard something up there, possibly someone, but I wasn't positive.

Squaring my shoulders, I roamed purposefully across the hallway, moving silently across the floor, stopping right before the door leading into Harry's bedroom and stood, just barely listening for any sound or movement from within.

Hearing nothing, but my own shaky breaths, I moved forward, my head peeking inside without showing my body.

I returned back to the hallway fast, staying low and pressed against the wall, the first glance into the room not showing a thing. I listened, but there was no one, it seemed, and not a single sound.
Come on, don't be such a wimp.
Just do it.
Go inside!