Finding Claire Fletcher by Regan Lisa

Author:Regan, Lisa [Regan, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sapphire Star Publishing
Published: 2012-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I dreamt of Connor, his musky male scent filling my senses so that when I woke, I thought I could still smell him. I gathered my blankets tightly around my body and smiled without opening my eyes. In the nowhere place between sleeping and waking, it was easy to imagine that I was lying in his bed, at his house. That he had gotten up to use the bathroom and would return to bed at any moment and wrap me in his arms, as he had done the night I met him.

I remembered the feel of his long, lean body against my own, his breath in my hair, tickling my neck. Never had I fantasized about a man in such a way. There remained a small ache inside me—desire. Curled in my tiny trailer bed, I sighed and imagined spending a whole day with Connor. I drifted back to sleep with his smile languishing in my head.

A series of loud, angry bangs woke me moments later, reminding me of my reality. I opened my eyes. Fear crept into my thoughts of Connor. An image of my captor beating a prone Connor flashed in my mind and I pushed it back.

With a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I took my time answering the door. Tiffany stood outside, her shiny, emaciated face crumpled, as if she smelled a very foul odor. I didn’t invite her in.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I need milk,” she said.

“Are you kidding me?”

Her sigh was exaggerated. One hand found its place on her hip. “No, I’m not kidding you. You have milk. Give me some.”

In the doorway, I stood a foot taller than her. I studied her skeptically. She had not graced my door in two years, and she had never turned up for something as benign as milk. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Frustrated, she threw her arms in the air and turned to leave. “Nothing,” she muttered. “You’re so paranoid.”

“With good reason,” I called after her. “Get the pervert to buy you milk.”

Pausing at the edge of the road, she turned. “You know, even if there was something going on, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh yeah, right. But you have no problem spying on me all day and night and telling him every little thing I do.”

She stared at me and for once, she had no retort. Finally, she spun on her heel and stomped across the road, slamming the door to the house loudly. I stayed in the doorway for a few minutes, watching the inert structure across from me, holding all his secrets with utter silence. I wondered if something was going on over there and Tiffany’s request for milk was just a ploy to get me to talk to her so she could unload and get whatever was bothering her off her chest.

If so, I had spoiled my opportunity to ferret out an explanation for all the strange goings-on at the house and the stomach-churning unease I felt lately. I shut my door and placed the chair under the knob.

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