Lizzie trips happily down the stairs in front of me, as if I’ve said yes. She obviously knows options are limited in my price range.
Grace, who hasn’t shifted from her spot on the dilapidated sofa, gives me a cursory glance as we return to the room.
“So…?” Lizzie looks expectantly at me.
“Oh, I thought you’d need to chat about me and if I was all right. For the house, I mean.”
Grace laughs softly to herself, and I stop myself from frowning at her.
“No, I mean, yes. You’re perfect for us. I knew as soon as I saw you looking at the notices. Didn’t I say that, Grace?”
Grace shrugs, and I’m a little freaked out by Lizzie’s over-enthusiasm. I hope she’s not one of those girls who think you’re her best friend after five minutes because I’m not very sociable since the accident.
The front door bangs open, and a guy stomps into the room. Doors opening straight into lounge rooms always leave little room for subtle entrances, and this guy certainly isn’t subtle. He halts as he sees me.
I’m not one for crushing on guys the moment I see them, but I’ve always had a thing for guys in leather jackets. Maybe I watched Grease too much as a kid. His “leather jacket with beaten-up combat boots” combination does things to my insides.
The darkest of brown eyes, half-hidden by brown hair falling across his face, study me. Eyes I can’t look away from. He’s one of those guys with a sexual presence humming in the air around him and pulling girls in, even if you’re not the kind of girl who fantasises about edgy-looking guys in leather jackets. This guy is hot, and that’s not even a word I’d normally use. I wouldn’t be able to use any words if I wanted to, because when he walked in, he sucked the necessary oxygen from the room. All this must be reflected in my own gaze because his frown is soon replaced by a knowing curve to his mouth. Without a hello to any of us, he stalks past and up the stairs.
Aware my mouth dropped open a little, I close it and turn back to Lizzie.
“Yeah, he’s the third person I mentioned, Alek.” She watches him head out of the room. His footsteps clomp upstairs and silence surrounds us as he leaves. Lizzie snaps out of whatever she’s thinking. “He’s not sociable, so don’t worry about him.”
The girl on the sofa is engrossed in her textbook again. Lizzie continues to stare in the direction the Alek storm swept in. I can’t move, amazed by my reaction to him. Lizzie soon shrugs and looks away.
My desire to know who this guy is wipes away the less-than-savoury details about the house. Any doubts I had about living here, well, they left through the door as he came in.
Chapter 2
The grey mist surrounds me as I lie on the road. I can’t move or breathe, but the figures are there again. Two tall men, dressed in black. Suits, I think, but I can’t be sure. The mist fogs around me, and I can’t see Jamie anymore. My chest hurts; I can’t move. When my eyes are closed, I hear voices arguing, and if I open them, the two men are around me. One of them blends into the grey fog, disappearing from view, and the other approaches me. Paralysed, I stare up at him, into his deep blue eyes. Blonde hair falls across his face as he smiles down at me, and the panic recedes as he strokes my head. Maybe his hair falls; I don’t know. I can’t figure out where I am or what’s happening, but I know he wants to help me.
The man glances around him, and then leans over me. Gentle fingertips rest on my head and the calmness emanating from him soothes me. He leans forward; his blonde hair touches my face as he whispers something in my ear.
***
I jerk awake, feeling as if I’ve fallen from a great height. Perspiring, I sit upright and when this isn’t enough to feel safe, I jump out of bed and back into a corner. My heart thrums in my head as I attempt to control my breathing and gradually realise where I am. Groping on the wall behind me, I find a light switch and flick to illuminate the box room. I focus on the nursery rhyme figures on the wallpaper and ground myself.
My new home.
Sinking onto the bed, my striped pyjamas stick to my back as I drag myself back to reality. Nightmares. I’m in a strange house; of course the dreams will start again. The traffic noise filters through the window and I walk over, push up the old-style window frame and breathe in the cool autumn air. When I have the dreams, either I fall asleep again straight away, or I lie in bed listening to the blood pushing against my ears. Or I get up and make tea.