Alone (15 page)

Gently, Sebastian lifted her onto the bed
and she sat with her feet hanging off the side. He knelt before her
and carefully pulled off her shoes and then lifted her feet onto
the soft mattress.

His tenderness touched something deep
inside her.

“
Hey,” she protested. “I’m
not an invalid. I don’t need to be looked after.”

Sebastian joined her on the bed and took
Serenity’s hand. “I think it’s been a long time since anyone looked
after you.”

A
sad smile flitted over her face and she
reclined on her side and tugged at his hand, pulling him down
beside her. They lay, face-to-face, watching each other.

Sebastian reached out and brushed a strand
of hair away from her brow. His hand remained for a moment, cool
fingertips touching her warm cheek.

She reached up and covered the back of his
hand with the palm of her own. He was always so cold, but she held
his palm close against her cheek, relishing the chill against her
feverish skin.

Her eyelids drooped.

Serenity
wanted to stay awake, to stay in the
moment with him, but she could feel her eyes shutting and wrestled
them open again. She always seemed to be sleeping; everything she’d
been through over the last couple of days had sapped her
strength.

“
Shush,” he whispered, stroking
her hair. “You’re allowed to sleep.”

She felt herself drifting. The pillow was
incredibly soft beneath her face and she sank into its
depths.

“
Don’t you ever sleep?” she
asked, exhaustion thickening her voice.

Though
sinking deep, oblivion swallowing
her, she could have sworn he said, ‘no’.

A
nightmare held her in
its grip.

In her dream, she stood next to the sink
in her kitchen, as she had before. Her fingers clutched the handle
of the knife so tightly her knuckles strained white. Heavy
footsteps fell in the hallway and the old terror Jackson’s presence
instilled wrapped around her heart. Somewhere, deep down, she knew
he was dead and this couldn’t be happening but she’d buried the
knowledge in an unreachable place. Her focus was on the scene
before her.

The footsteps thumped
closer. Horror
gripped her. The image of Jackson after she stabbed him filled her
mind; shock and disbelief in his eyes, the blood, the way his
glasses lay askew on his face. She was certain the Jackson heading
toward her would look the same as he had the moment she’d murdered
him.

Then he walked into the room and, with a
mixture of relief and horror, she saw him as he’d always been:
aggressive, cocky, hostile.

Serenity stood rooted by the kitchen sink.
He walked up to her and the tight grip she had on the hilt
dissolved. Her fingers fell away and Jackson plucked the knife from
her hand; his presence sapped her strength.

E
very detail of his face leaped out at
her—the old acne marks on his skin, the gold filling in his molar,
the flecks of white in his eyebrows—everything in crystal clear
detail. Yet still she couldn’t move.

His face broke into a snide, scornful
smile and he erupted into mocking laughter. This time anger didn’t
take over. Instead, fear filled her and still she couldn’t
move.

He would
kill her, he would take his revenge.
One important thought occupied her mind; where was
Sebastian?

Then she realized the reason for his
absence. Daylight filtered through the kitchen window, sun flooded
the hallway. Sebastian wouldn’t be here; she never saw him in the
light.

Something vitally important flitted
through her consciousness and she tried to grab hold of
it.

Before she had time to analyze the idea
that something significant had crossed her mind, the Jackson of her
dream launched at her. He plunged the knife deep under her ribs,
the sensation similar to a punch in the diaphragm. Pulling the
knife out, he stabbed her left arm. Pain shot through her and she
tried to cry out, but couldn’t. All she wanted to do was move away
from him, raise her arm—anything!

The knife stabbed repeatedly, the pain as
real as anything she’d ever experienced before. Jackson’s face
pressed against hers, his breath washing over her in putrid waves
of stale alcohol and death, his eyes bulging, accusatory and full
of hate.

You can’t feel pain in a
dream!
Her
panicked mind thought.
Oh my God, this is real, this is real! I’m going
to die....

Bursting from the
dream
,
she
bolted
upright in bed, gasping for breath. A thin sheen of sweat covered
her skin and her clothes clung to her, damp and uncomfortable. Her
left arm was completely numb and for an instant her dream followed
her into wakefulness. Serenity glanced down, expecting to see her
flesh hacked to pieces. Instead, an imprint of the sheets marked
her skin where her limb had been squashed between her body and the
bed. She breathed a sigh of relief. With the blood flow restored to
her arm, pins and needles prickled her flesh.

Once again, she was alone.

Serenity rubbed at her arm, flexing her
hand back and forth, trying to get rid of the horrible, buzzing
sensation. The feeling was too similar to the stabbing and she
desperately wanted it to stop.

The dream stuck with her, surrounding
Serenity like a dirty aura. This reverie she wouldn’t be able to
shake off. The reality was almost as bad as the
nightmare.

From somewhere downstairs came three
resonating chimes from a grandfather clock.

T
he horror of what she had done dragged on
her heart like a physical weight.

Serenity shuddered. She wanted to roll
over and go back to sleep for good. Understandably, she continued
to struggle with what she had done, that grief couldn’t be healed
in a day, but she warred with her emotions. She felt a strange
mixture of fear, guilt, relief and anticipation. Part of her
wallowed in the terrible act she’d committed, but the other part of
her—the one arguing that it wasn’t her fault when Jackson hit
her—desperately wanted to push the incident away and focus on the
possibility of her new life. She wanted to wrap herself in thoughts
of Sebastian and forget all the horrors of her past.

Even though parts of her wanted to run
screaming from what had happened, Serenity wouldn’t change meeting
Sebastian. He had given her the strength to finally stand up for
herself, despite the horrendous consequences.

If asked to choose between Jackson
still being alive and meeting Sebastian, she would have been too
ashamed to give an answer.

T
o think she had only met him a few days
ago was crazy. How could someone she barely knew have such a huge
effect on her life?

She longed for his presence. Perhaps he
slept in another part of the house, in his own room. It was three
in the morning, after all. Where else would he be?

Serenity swung her legs over the side of
the bed. Sebastian had left a table lamp on for her and it cast a
warm glow across the room. Her stomach grumbled ominously and she
realized she was ravenous. She thought back and couldn’t remember
the last time she’d eaten. It certainly hadn’t been anytime in the
last twenty-four hours.

Her mind conjured images of crispy strips
of bacon and soft scrambled egg, all piled on top of hot, buttered
toast, and her mouth watered. The rumble turned into an actual pang
and she jumped off the bed and padded across the thick, cream
carpet to the bedroom door. Slowly, she opened the door and peered
out into an empty hallway. Her ears pricked for any sounds of
Sebastian, but the house remained silent.

Four other doors led off the hallway and
she walked past each to get to the stairs. She hoped Sebastian
would appear from one of the doorways, or she’d hear the deep
breathing of a man sleeping, but from behind each one came silence
accompanied by the feeling of emptiness.

If he wasn’t in bed, where
was he?

Serenity made her way down the huge
staircase and crossed the hall into the kitchen. Despite her hopes,
he was nowhere to be seen.

A white piece of paper had been stuck
conspicuously to the black marble counter top. A smile lit her face
as she crossed the room and picked up the slip of paper. She didn’t
need to start reading to know the note was for her.

‘
Serenity, help yourself to
whatever you want. I have some business to attend. Sorry to
disappear again. I would rather be with you.’

He finished the note with a couple of ‘X’s
and she smiled and touched the kisses with her
fingertips.

The promise of food distracted her. She
put the letter down and headed for the double-door
refrigerator.

Food bulged from every
shelf:
smoked
bacon, fresh orange juice, white chocolate cheesecake, quiche,
brie, butter, sausages, bagels, fresh blueberries and strawberries,
whipped cream, ring doughnuts with pink icing and sprinkles,
pastries.

E
very food she’d ever dreamed of
eating.

Overcome by the need to eat, Serenity
grabbed the closest items. Opening boxes and packets, she stuffed
quiche, slices of cheese, and smoked ham into her mouth. Despite
her dreams of bacon and eggs, Serenity didn’t have the patience to
wait for anything to cook and ate whatever she could straight out
of the fridge. Finishing the savories, she washed them down with a
couple of long swigs of orange juice and started on
dessert.

She ate so fast, her stomach barely
registered the amount she’d consumed, and as she pushed the last
piece of doughnut into her mouth she realized how full she was.
Serenity groaned and laughed at the same time. If Sebastian came
back now and found her in the middle of this binge, she’d be
mortified. Jackson always commented if she put real butter on her
bread or sugar in her coffee, now here she was consuming the entire
contents of the refrigerator

She looked around at all the open packets
and frowned. Everything she’d eaten had been brand new. There’d
been no open packets of cheese or half-used tubs of butter. Cartons
of milk were all full and unopened, as was the orange juice before
she started on it. It looked as though he had cleared out
everything before her arrival and refilled it again.

The frown deepened. Did he actually
live here?

A
chill run down Serenity’s back; ghostly
fingers tracing her spine, across her shoulders. The house felt too
big, too empty, and she suddenly wanted to be back in her tiny
duplex again. This place had a strange atmosphere, cold and
impersonal, more like a museum than a home. Without Sebastian, it
was almost unwelcoming.

She shivered again and, with her stomach
full to the point of being uncomfortable, she decided she would
rather be tucked up in the huge bed than down here in the cold
kitchen.

B
arefoot, she crossed the cold tiles,
heading back across the hallway to the staircase.

A
flash of movement cut through the air in
front of her, inches from her face. Serenity shrieked and stumbled
back.

Rising from a crouch, a tall, red-haired
woman stood to her full height. The female seemed to have dropped
from the sky. Serenity stared in shock.

The newcomer took her breath away. Red
hair sprung in wild curls around her face. Her porcelain skin was
flawless, her eyes bright green. She was as slender as a catwalk
model, with none of the extra bumps or bulges Serenity had been
conscious of her whole life.

“
What the…?” but Serenity
couldn’t find the words.

The woman tossed her hair back and
smirked. She eyed Serenity up and down, and Serenity shrunk beneath
her gaze.

“
He’s a fool for bringing
you here,” she said, her voice tinged with a faint accent, her tone
as smooth as warm honey. “I never thought he would be so
stupid.”

“
Who are you?” Serenity
said, managing a hoarse whisper.

The red-head reached out and pushed
Serenity’s hair away from her face, back over her shoulder,
mimicking her own actions. Serenity jerked away.

“
You’re just his little
human pet.”

“
What?” Though confused and
frightened, her anger flared. “Who the hell are you? What are you
doing in Sebastian’s house?”

“
Oh, Sebastian and I are old
friends.”

“
Old friends?” Serenity didn’t
think she’d imagined this strange and intimidating woman implied
something more.

Surprise and laughter danced behind
the woman’s strange, brilliant eyes.

“
You don’t know, do you?”
she laughed. “He hasn’t told you what he is?”

Serenity’s cheeks burned with shame.
She hated that this woman seemed to know more about Sebastian than
she did.

“
I know enough.”

She laughed again and Serenity wanted
to slap her perfect face. The laughter disappeared and her face
grew hard.