Chapter Eight
"Are you sure you have to go?" Her hands twisted in the hem of the curve hugging purple cotton tank top, horrified at the thought of being trapped, alone, in the house, more so that she was on the verge of actually whining about it. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, and more than capable of surviving a weekend alone.
There was also Erik to consider; she had no right to lay a guilt trip, however unintentional, on him. Besides, if Erik had been the target of the pool attack then he was better off, safer, in New York. And if she herself had been the intended recipient...well, she would deal with that nerve wracking problem if and when she was forced to. There was no sense worrying needlessly about something that may well have been an isolated incident.
"Duty calls." Erik snapped the lock into place on his patent leather suitcase. "You're welcome to come with, you know." The offer was sincere as he turned to face her. "Maybe that’s a better idea, Paige. I don’t like the thought of you here all alone."
"There’s no time for me to get a seat." She pointed out the obvious. "Besides, you’re supposed to leave in half an hour. And I’ll only get in the way."
"You're sure?"
"Positively. I'll be fine." She forced a smile.
"You're scared."
"Am not. Well, maybe a little. But look, I'm getting around so much better."Paige executed a semi-flawless pirouette for her friends benefit. "Good as new. And as for...the other, well, we aren’t sure anything will happen, are we? After all, it’s been over three weeks and nothing untoward has occurred."
"It has been a quiet month." He conceded, looking marginally more comfortable with the idea of leaving her behind, even for a short trip.
"See there? I'll be fine. Now," She stepped up to straighten his tie. "You go take care of that ad agency you've worked so hard to build."
"I'll see you on Wednesday, Princess." His tone was teasing.
"Princess my ass." She muttered, watching his long coat flap in the wind twenty minutes later as he jogged down the front stairs. "That’s it then," She spoke to the empty room. "I'm on my own. Yep, just me and cable TV for three whole days." Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
"I can do this." Except she wasn’t wholly convinced of that despite her bolstering words of self-encouragement. The night closed in around her, the dark oozing through each window, each door, casting shadows on the wall. She hated the night, this wretched time when the fears that haunted her mind came out to play. Light. I need light, she decided, hurrying from room to room, flipping switches until the entire lower level of the two story house was lit up like high noon in the old West.
She eyes the darkened stairwell that beckoned like a crypt in the corner of the artificially bright living room. Did she dare? No, she decided a moment later, there was absolutely no reason for her to go upstairs. Unless she wanted to go to bed before sunrise, she groaned, the taste of defeat strong and bitter. "Okay," She took a deep breath, "Okay I can sleep down here. In the den. Who needs a bedroom? For that matter-who needs a bed?" Yeah, she told herself, the couch would be way more comfortable. And it wasn’t defeat, she consoled her wounded pride. There was absolutely no shame in being afraid of the dark. Besides, she wasn’t really afraid, rather, she didn’t prefer the dark, she mentally insisted, one hand coming up to rest on the thick newel post. She could go upstairs anytime she wanted to. Right now, if she had a mind to. She was not afraid. Her quickening pulse said otherwise.
"No,” She squared her shoulders. "I will go up these damn stairs." The old Paige was terrified of the night. The old Paige hated to be left alone. The old Paige would have turned tail and fled to the den for the duration of the evening, not daring to come out until dawns gentle light filtered through the black lace curtains.
She probably would have barricaded the door for good measure. "They're just stairs." One deep breath later, she consoled herself with the knowledge that there was a light switch waiting for her at the top of the landing and began the long ascent to the second floor. Each creak of board was a nerve wracking chill, an icy tendril of fear that played at the back of her neck. She resisted the urge to spin around, though she was sorely tempted to do just that.
The middle of a dark flight of stairs was not the place to make a sudden movement, Paige reminded herself. Three more steps to go, then two, and one. Finally, she made it to the landing, let out the breath she had been holding and allowed her hand to shoot out and flip the switch at her right. Glorious semi-fluorescent light flooded the hallway, easing her tension tenfold. No hidden monsters lurked in the shadows, no unseen hands reached out to grab her.
"I did it." She murmured, striding down the thickly carpeted hall and gaining confidence with each padded step. "Whew." She breezed into her bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve a thick comforter and the handset to the cordless phone before trekking downstairs to hole up in the den for the remainder of the night. "Baby steps." She yawned an hour later, eyeing the chair she'd shoved under the doorknob. "Tomorrow I won’t bar the door."