Nocturnal by Nathan Field Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d just broken into my fucking home.
    I stood still for twenty seconds, counting them out in my head. Ahead of me was a bare stretch of wooden flooring – about seven paces between my bedroom door and the edge of the sofa. Even though it was deathly quiet, and I couldn’t make out any shapes in the darkness, I was convinced Ralph was standing in the no-man’s zone, equally still, watching me through night vision goggles. Waiting patiently for me to walk into his jagged blade.
    Despite the danger, I felt a powerful urge to confront him. The main light switch was just around the corner, on the wall to my left. If I moved quickly enough, I could turn on the light and surprise him. It was better than feeling like a sitting duck….
    I lunged forward, but before I could grope for the light switch, my foot landed on something hard a lumpy, rolling my ankle and throwing me off balance. I cried out as I crashed to the floor, losing my grip on the baseball bat as I reached out to break my fall. Straight away I flipped onto my back and began kicking and punching the darkness, hoping to land a lucky blow on my attacker. But I was fighting thin air, and by the time I’d finished thrashing about, I realized the apartment was just as quiet as before.
    Scrambling to my feet, I flicked on the wall switch. The living room furniture emerged in the dimmed light. One of CC’s black stilettos lay at my feet, the cause of my stumble in the dark. But there were no phantoms in the shadows. I was alone.
    I walked around the apartment, taking a quick inventory. My gun was safely hidden in the back of the hallway closet. My key ring and wallet were still sitting on the kitchen bench. Everything seemed to be present and accounted for. I sniffed the air again, frowning. Maybe I’d imagined the strange odor . And the click of the front door could’ve carried over from a dream.
    Then I saw something shift in the corner of my eye. As I turned towards my aquarium, my heart seized. A huge brown fish stared back at me from one protruding black eye. It looked like a grotesque cross between a trout and a puffer fish. Whatever the species, it had no fucking business being in my aquarium.
    I approached the tank and peered into the dark water. I was hoping for a glimmer of orange in the rushes, but instead, my eyes honed in on a translucent white matter floating on the surface. At first I thought it was some kind of fish excrement, but on closer inspection, I recognized the filmy substance as cartilage. They were two tiny goldfish skeletons, tangled together.             
    “You fucker,” I hissed, directing my anger at both Ralph T. Emerson and his cannibalistic fish.
    I turned away from the tank, balling my fists in frustration. What message was Ralph trying to convey now? What the hell did killing my poor goldfish achieve?
    Despite my incredulity, deep down I knew exactly what Ralph was doing. It was simple, really. He was boasting that he could get to me anytime, anywhere – on the phone, in my office, even in my own home.
    He had a plan for me that wouldn’t end well. And in the meantime, he was enjoying making me squirm.

6. “He watches me all the time”
     
    Lucy’s rejection at the coffee shop fucked me up, big time. In the space of a few days, I was reduced to a mumbling husk of a man: skipping work, holing up in my tiny studio apartment, and replaying our two brief encounters until my head throbbed.
    How could I have misread the situation so badly? I’d been certain she was interested, especially when she’d subtly mentioned her husband’s advanced age, and the fact she didn’t care for her stepchildren. There’d been no need to reveal such personal details up front, and I’d presumed Lucy was letting me know she was available, or at least not unavailable. But that wasn’t the case at all.
    In many ways I hated her – the way she strutted around, oblivious to her charms, assigning pity to the poor fools who fell