Pieces of Dreams by Donna Hill
Author:Donna Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-10-15T00:00:00+00:00
Chapter 7
Canât Let Go
The house was stone cold silent. After I checked out the parlor floor I tiptoed upstairs, halfway mindful of not disturbing Mrs. Finch, who swore she could hear every creak and whistle.
I opened the bedroom door and stepped farther into the room. It was dark, save for a milky stream of light from the full moon that hung right outside my window. I eased the door closed, not wanting to wake Nikita if I didnât have to.
My eyes began to adjust to the dark, making out shapes and locations of furniture in the room. Something wasnât right.
I walked closer toward the bed, searching in the twilight for the familiar outline of Nikitaâs body.
The bed was empty.
Something gripped me, like that feeling you get when youâre at the top of the roller coaster, held there for a moment, just before it makes its hurtling descent, when terror grabs hold of you and you want to get off. Too late. Youâre on your way down.
I stared harder, tried to force her image to be there. Then I saw the red light of the answering machine blinking its warning in the dark.
âNikita.â I knew thereâd be no answer, but I called her name, anyway. Nikita never left messages unanswered on the machineâif she were home.
Flipping on the light only confirmed what I already knew, but that didnât stop me from looking around as if I expected her to walk out of the bathroom or up the stairs. I walked through the adjoining bathroom to the front guest room that weâd converted into an office space, and looked out the window. Sometimes Niki did wild things at night, like taking a stroll to the all-night store, because she said it was so peaceful in the neighborhood and walking relaxed her. I looked out the window. Thatâs when I noticed that her car wasnât there. She hadnât walked to wherever sheâd gone.
Looking for me.
My heart started beating a little faster, and a wave of unease rocked through my gut. I went back downstairs. Maybe sheâd left a note.
I searched in the kitchen, the dining and living rooms. Nothing. This wasnât like her. No matter how late Iâd stayed out in the past, sheâd never just up and walked out, jumped in her car in the middle of the night to come looking for me.
Naw, that wasnât like her at all, no matter what sheâd said on the phone. She probably just got pissed off and went to Parris and Nickâs house. Yeah, that was probably it. My stomach began to settle.
I checked my watch. 2:30. Too late to call over there. She was probably on her way home, anyway.
I prowled around in the kitchen for a while and finally decided to fix a sandwich and wash it down with a bottle of beer. Then I went upstairs.
Standing in the doorway of our bedroom, I experienced the first inkling of what Nikita felt when she sat up waiting for me all kinds of hours, thinking all sort of things.
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