Or did she?
Shaking the thought aside, she glanced down at the paperwork in front of her. She was so excited that she was going into business with Chantal. She had always wanted her own shop, but it never went past that. Just the thought was as far as she got.
First thing in the morning, she would contact the bank and talk to them about a mortgage on her place. Reaching for her drawing pad, she started on a design that would suit Chantal’s shop. Although she knew her best friend too well, she wanted several designs for her to pick from. She had paint cards, fabric swabs, and pictures of furniture cut out and stuck to each design, giving the illusion of what it would actually look like. Thinking of giving Chantal a call, she glanced at the clock and noticed it was 10:15p.m. Damn! She had been at it for over four hours.
Leaving her work where it was, she made her way into the kitchen to grab a drink. As soon as she was in there, she heard a noise coming from the side of her house. What the hell was that? Tiptoeing carefully towards the sink, she saw a shadow cross past the window just above it. Her hands started to shake and her breathing grew labored. Pressing her back against the wall, she stood there and waited. She couldn’t hear any noises whatsoever.
She reached for the phone on the wall and as she lifted it to her face to dial, another shadow moved closer to the window, and she nearly cried out. There was someone or something outside of her house! She did not like to be alone after what had happened. Although she had told everyone she was fine, she wasn’t. Nearly every night she had the same dream—that Lucas wasn’t dead, and she was living that nightmare all over again, except no one came to the rescue. He would rape her and leave her there, all night, and come back the next day to do it all over again.
She shivered at the thought of going to sleep alone, again. She slid down the wall and crawled into the laundry room. As she tucked herself into the corner between the washing machine and sink, she heard a door handle rattle. Skylar sobbed quietly, not knowing who to call that was close.
Chantal was too far away and wouldn’t get there in time if something happened. Alex was at a friend’s house, playing poker, and Jack was on a date. She didn’t want to interrupt any of them, but she was shit scared. That only left Nate. She had not heard any noise coming from his house all night, making her believe that he wasn’t home, but he was her only hope.
Tapping the button on her phone so it lit up, she found Nate’s number, and dialed. One ring...two rings...three rings...four rings!
“Please pick up, Nate,” she cried.
She was ready to hang up on the sixth ring when Nate picked up.
“Hello,” he answered in a groggy voice.
“Nate?” she whispered, not knowing if whoever was out there could hear her.
“Skylar. What’s wrong? Where are you?” he said, and sounded more alert.
“Someone is outside of my house. I’m scared!” she sobbed.
She heard him moving around in his house through the phone. God, she wished she could get over feeling like this.
“Everything is going to be fine, baby. Tell me what you can see or what you heard?”
Moving closer to the door, she looked around the corner, and noticed a silhouette standing at her door. She watched as the handle started to move. That was enough for her . Quickly moving back to where she was, she pulled the cupboard door in front of her, hiding where she was.
“Skylar?” Nate said, agitated.
“Someone is trying to get into my house, Nate,” she whispered.
“Where, baby. You need to tell me,” he said softly.
“Backdoor.” That’s all she could get out.
“Okay. I’m going to hang up, and check out— ”
“No!” she nearly screamed into the phone.
“Skylar, I need to, so I can concentrate on who it is.”
“Please, don’t leave me,” she cried. She needed him right then. She wanted him on the phone so she knew what
Learning to Kill: Stories