Page 94 of Dream House
So, am I sleeping Monday night? No.
I try. I really do. But Nina was convinced and pretty convincing that Kaleb hasn’t skipped town. According to her, he has nowhere to go. He’s just lying low.
Maybe because he knows he’s in deep shit. Maybe because he wants to stir shit.
Either way, it’s shitty.
I lie in bed, wide awake, reminding myself that Kaleb doesn’t know where Nina lives and he doesn’t know any of us.
I also can’t stop thinking about Nina. She’s worried about her boss, and she’s worried about all of us.
Her boss Aggie has also petitioned for a protective order against Kaleb because of his threats and repeated trespassing at the restaurant. Not that it’ll do her much good since he’s not around to be served, but Livy says a long paper trail against Kaleb will make a judge take notice. Still, Nina thinks she needs to look for another job to take the pressure off Aggie and the restaurant.
It’s probably not a bad idea, but Nina has worked there for two years. She likes her boss, her co-workers, and her regulars, and I know it would hurt to walk away.
I sigh and flip on to my back.
I love Nanna’s house. I love living in Nanna’s house. But it’s old, and it settles and creaks all the time. Which is very inconvenient on a sleepless night when one is worried about an at-large psycho-stalker.
Especially since I’m pretty sure Maisy and I are the only ones on the ground floor tonight. When I was checking the locks on the front door, I witnessed Tyler following Nina upstairs to her room. And I haven’t heard him come down yet.
Which, I’ll admit, is another worry that just might be interfering with my sleep. Because, given the chance, Kaleb wouldn’t hesitate to take a swing at my brother—or worse. And I get the feeling that if it came to it, Tyler wouldn’t be worried about protecting his head in a moment like that.
Hell, I don’t think he’s worried about protecting his heart, either.
I don’t know which threat stresses me out more. I know Nina feels safe with Tyler, and they’re obviously getting closer. But where can this possibly go? He’s not fully recovered. He may never be. There are things he still doesn’t understand and emotions that are too big for him.
I fling the covers off to let cooler air hit my skin, and when it does little to soothe me, I flip my pillow over. The cool, satin underside is a relief against my face. I lean into it and close my eyes. My window unit kicks on, the white noise and chilly air a relief. Losing the thread of my thoughts, I sink into my pillow and doze.
Then I snap awake.
Why am I awake?
It’s late. I can just feel that dawn is still hours away. Why am I awake?
Creak-creak-creak-creak.
Someone’s on the stairs.
Tyler? The footsteps sound heavy.
Can he make it down the stairs that fast? Would Lark descend that slowly?
What if it’s neither of them?
I sit up, heart pounding.
Relax, Stella. If Kaleb Doucet found us, how would he even get in?
I frown into the darkness.
I know I locked the front door.
The footsteps land on the entryway floor and stop.
I mentally circumvent the house. Three porches. The big front porch. The one off my room. And the smaller one off the living room. We never use that door, so it’s always locked.
Except Maisy caught a ladybug in the living room yesterday morning and rehomed it outside.
