The world slowly swims back into focus.
My bedroom. My bed. Home.
Earlier tonight, Collins and I sat on the tailgate of his truck passing beers back and forth, talking about the long day he’d had at work. One beer turned into two, then three…I lost count. My head still feels foggy.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The quiet glow of my dolphin lamp spills soft blue light across the room, painting the walls in something calm and familiar. The gentle hum of it steadies the frantic rhythm in my chest.
I’m home. I’m safe.
The noise that woke me must have slipped in from whatever dream I was tangled in.
I exhale slowly and flip my pillow to the cool side, pressing my cheek against the fresh fabric. The chill seeps into my warm skin, easing the tension.
Just a dream. My eyelids grow heavy again, sleep beginning to drag me back under.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
My eyes snap open. I bolt upright in bed, the sudden movement sending the room spinning for a second. My gaze locks onto the window across the room—the unmistakable source of the sound.
That wasn’t a dream.
A shaky breath escapes me as my pulse begins to settle. Collins has done this countless times over the summer.
So why do I feel like something is wrong? I rub a hand over my face and let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh at myself.
My gosh, get a grip.
Dragging the blanket off my legs, I shuffle across the room toward the window. I raise the blinds, the outside darkness staring back at me. I unlock the window. I’m still half asleep, my body heavy and sluggish, so instead of pushing the window up, I turn away and stumble back to bed. I fall onto it again, pulling the covers over myself while I wait to hear Collins climb inside like he always does.
The soft scrape of the window sliding open follows.
Then the dull thud of boots hitting the floor.
“I have to tell you something.”
My. Heart. Stops.
The voice is wrong.
Every muscle in my body locks as if someone has poured ice through my veins. My lungs refuse to work, trapped somewhere between inhale and exhale. Slowly, I turn in the bed toward the window.
Because that voice…
It is not Collins’.
The figure standing in the dim blue glow makes my stomach drop.
Dark hair. Too dark.