The Illusion of a Boy by LeeAnn Werner

Author:LeeAnn Werner [Werner, LeeAnn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LeeAnn Werner
Published: 2021-10-15T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Brian

As I pulled into our driveway, I stuffed the last bite of my ketchup-drenched cheeseburger into my mouth. Ketchup slid down my finger and plopped onto my jeans.

“Shit,” I said, groping with my free hand for the napkin on the passenger seat. I wiped my hands and scrubbed at the ketchup on my jeans. Wadding up the trash from my midnight snack, I walked into the garage. I threw the fast-food bag in the trash can and entered the house through the kitchen. The place was quiet, with the lights off in the kitchen and living room. I walked down the hallway toward my bedroom. Grandma and Mom were obviously in bed for the night, as their doors were closed. Light seeped from under Jessie’s door. I knocked lightly.

“It’s me.” I rested my hand on the handle, poised to enter.

“Come in,” Jessie said.

I found her sitting up in bed with a book open on her lap. Baby wagged her tail at me from the foot of the bed. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” She moved her legs to the side of the bed to make room for me.

“How was Mom today?” I had spent the day with Tracey’s family. We’d celebrated her mom’s birthday. But I couldn’t go to sleep without checking on my own mom. I also wanted to see how Jessie was doing. With her reading a book, she appeared relaxed.

She raised one side of her mouth in a grimace and shrugged.

“She seems better. More alert at least,” she said.

“Good,” I said.

Grandma had been sleeping in my room since she moved in with us, so I slept on the couch in the family room. I stored my pillow and blankets in Jessie’s room.

I bent down and picked them up. “I’m going to crash.”

Just as I was straightening, slow, heavy footfalls thumped from the direction of the kitchen. It was a sound I had not heard since Dad died. A sound I had dreaded even then. It meant he was home.

I dropped my blankets.

Jessie gasped and sat up straight. She placed her hand on Baby’s back to silence her. She knew the sound and what it meant as well as I did.

“What was that?” she whispered.

I peered down the hallway. Mom and Grandma were asleep. Their bedroom doors hadn’t opened. The footsteps softened, as if they’d reached the carpet. Which meant one thing: They were headed down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Toward us.

No, no, no, my brain screamed. Frantically, I searched Jessie’s room for something I could use as a weapon. I badly wanted the baseball bat that was in my closet.

“Get in the corner,” I whispered. She scrambled behind me with Baby in her arms and pressed herself against the wall. I grabbed the curling iron off Jessie’s dresser. Squaring my feet and facing the partially opened door, I listened as the footsteps steadily approached.

My pounding heartbeat provided the only background noise.

At Jessie’s doorway, the footsteps stopped. Except for a square of light filtering from the room, the hallway was dark and empty.

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