The words formed as if they had been pushed from the wall before seeming to dissolve back into it again. Delilah was frozen, a scream caught in her throat. The blankets constricted around her, pinning her down, trapping her arms at her sides.
The bed vibrated, and she tried to peer over the edge, to see anything. The footboard began to tremble; the sound of groaning metal screeched all around her. For an instant the candle seemed to burn brighter, the flame and her own terrified expression reflected in the brass rails near her feet. Delilah watched in horror as they grew right in front of her, elongating, the ends sharpening like spikes as they reached toward the ceiling.
She began to thrash about, trying to break free, the binds beginning to cut into her skin. And all the while, above the sound of scurrying spiders and the deafening scream of metal, was the thump from downstairs, the recurring beat of a racing heart.
Delilah began to cry, hot tears streaking down her face. A scream tore from her, piercing the darkness just as everything grew silent. Her arms and legs suddenly freed, Delilah scrambled backward, pulling her knees to her chest.
The lights seemed to all come on at once, and the sound of a door opening and slamming shut again rang throughout the house.
Gavin.
Delilah blinked into the sudden brightness, quickly scrubbing the tears from her cheeks just as her name was called from downstairs. Her eyes flew to the ceiling, where fluffy clouds now floated across the most serene blue sky Delilah could ever remember seeing. There were no spiders, nothing more than gray-blue paper covering the walls. The bed looked perfectly ordinary, too. Brass rails with a soft quilt tossed haphazardly across, not a single fingerprint to mar the pristine finish.
Her head hurt.
“Delilah?” Gavin called again, followed by the sound of his feet as he ran up the stairs.
“I’m in here,” she said, surprised by the steadiness of her own voice.
“There you are,” he began, his face falling as he took in her expression. Judging by the panic that quickly overtook his features and the way he raced across the room to sit at her side, she must have looked much less calm than she’d sounded. “What happened?”
Delilah gripped his hand, cool and steady in hers. “Nothing,” she insisted, feeling herself calm as she realized she must have dreamed it all. “I fell asleep.”
“Nightmare?” he asked, smoothing her hair.
“Just a dream. I’m okay, promise.”
Gavin seemed to relax, bending to slide his lips carefully over hers. “Must have been pretty bad,” he said, meeting her eyes.
Delilah shook her head and wrapped her arms around his waist. Gavin’s heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear, chillingly similar to the sound that had woken her in the first place.
“Just a dream,” she repeated, closing her eyes, trying to convince herself, too.
Chapter Fourteen
Her
Delilah didn’t sleep much that night, afraid to close her eyes and find herself in the same nightmare. She’d had nightmares before, but this one was different. It felt real. So real.
She was crabby at breakfast, earning a reproachful look from both of her parents. She spilled milk as she poured it into her hot cereal, stubbed her toe on the table leg, and got caught rolling her eyes when her mother began discussing the long hair on the new male bagger down at the grocery store.
“Mom, his long hair doesn’t make him a criminal.”
Belinda Blue snorted, pulling her tea bag from her cup after a single, weak dunk. “I want this town to be what it used to be. Quiet, clean, and safe.”
It was Delilah’s turn to snort. “It is those things, Mom. A hippie bagger doesn’t change that. Maybe it’s good that we have someone here now who’s from Portland, Oregon. Maybe it will open our eyes a little.”