Dead Spots by Rhiannon Frater

Author:Rhiannon Frater
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466831247
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER 17

It was screams that awakened Mackenzie.

At first she thought another nightmare beast was howling outside, but then words unfurled out of the hysterical screams and shouts. Groggy, she was uncertain if she had been asleep for hours or mere minutes. The thick blackness filling the room indicated it was still night. As she flipped on the lamp, the light shoved back the dark.

Fumbling her way out of the bed, she was startled at the soreness between her legs. Shoving back the bedclothes, she saw her nightgown bunched around her waist leaving her crotch area bare. She had washed her own clothes downstairs and hadn’t been able to bring herself to wear the underwear she had found in the dresser so had opted to go without. She remembered distinctly falling asleep alone and that she had not invited Grant into bed with her, but the tenderness of her sex frightened her. As she stared in confusion at her exposed flesh, the memory of the dream flashed to life in her mind. Dread mingled with her bewilderment. Why had Grant taken Tanner’s place? Though his massage had aroused her, she didn’t actually want to have sex with him. So why had she dreamed about it?

Feeling oddly violated, she pulled the nightgown over her legs.

“It didn’t really happen,” she muttered in an attempt to reassure herself. Maybe in her sleep she had touched herself when she had been dreaming.

The shouts and cries from outside grew louder, pulling her attention from her disturbing thoughts. “Grant!” she called out, feeling awkward saying his name. “Do you hear that?”

The bedroom door banged open. Grant stood in the hallway clutching the rifle. His hair was mussed and his eyes still looked hooded from sleep. She couldn’t help but stare at him and wonder if his body would feel like it had at the end of her bizarre dream. “Mackenzie, are you okay?”

“Yes, I hear voices outside though.”

“There are people outside,” he briskly answered. “But are you okay? You look upset.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Are you sure they’re real?”

“I saw them coming up the road when I looked out the window,” Grant answered.

Shaking her head in an effort to fully wake up, Mackenzie said, “How do you know they’re real?”

“One of them still burns bright like you do. I’m heading downstairs.” Grant vanished out of sight, his bathrobe swirling behind him.

On throbbing, painful feet, Mackenzie grabbed the big butcher knife off the bed stand and followed. The unease she felt from her dream clung to her. Nothing in Grant’s manner indicated that what she had experienced was anything other than her sleeping mind spinning a peculiar fantasy. In fact, Grant’s demeanor was all business while he hurried down the last steps to the front door and set about dismantling the barricade they had created out of chairs and a table.

It was difficult not to think of the dream when she looked at him. She could still feel his curls clenched between her fingers and his heavy body riding hers.

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