The Attic (Completed)

Chapter 11

From where Lily huddled, a thin gap between the crate and a box provided her with a partial view of the doorway.

The man stood still, listening.

She held her breath. Why was she being so silly? This whole situation was ridiculous; what was the worst that could happen? A finger-waggling lecture? She should have just opened the door all nonchalant, and greeted whoever it was.

A whiff of mild cologne filled her senses.

Ian.

He flicked on the light and stared at the stack of boxes that had been pushed away from the trunk. He looked down at the floor and then toward her.

Could he see her within the shadows of the boxes?

Oh, for Pete sake—what an idiot she was—her footprints in the dust led a trail straight to her. Prickly heat climbed her neck and she swallowed hard. How embarrassing this was panning out to be.

He stepped toward her and she squeezed her eyes shut like a child, waiting for the inevitable. A second later a hand clamped down on her arm and gently pulled her from the hiding place.

She stood in the center of the cluttered room and looked up at him with a sheepish expression. Her pants were coated in dust, and a stringy cobweb hung from her sleeve.

He stood only two feet away, glowering, hands on his lean hips. "What are you doing up here."

She peeled the spiderweb from her arm and tried to flick it away. It clung to her fingertips. "I wanted to see the forbidden attic."

He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low tone: "You have no idea how much danger you keep putting yourself into."

She glanced at the trunk and shivered involuntarily. What if it was a coffin? What if Ian was some sort of psycho serial killer? She was such a fool. If he tried to kill her right now, no one could possibly come to her rescue in time.

"All right, all right," she said, trying to sound casual though her pulse was pounding in her ears. "I'll get going. I've seen all there is to see."

She sidestepped him, heading for the open door, but he reached out and gripped her forearm. "Don't ever come up here again."

She said she wouldn't, shaking her head, all the while knowing she'd be returning later with the key from his pet bird. If she was going to live here indefinitely, she had to be sure it was safe.

He stepped closer, so close she could feel his warm, minty breath on her cheek. "'Cause you know," he said, "if I ever do find you up here again, I'll have to kill you."

She stiffened, heart stopping.

"I''m kidding, Lily," he said, unrestrained annoyance in his tone, letting go of her arm and moving away from her.

"I know," she squeaked, letting out a blip of laughter. She had the strangest feeling that he could kill, maybe already had. All she wanted to do was get away from him, like before, in the tree.

She forced herself to look at him.

He was frowning now. "You went dead white just there."

She nodded. "Yes, I'm just . . . hungry, I think. Didn't eat much breakfast." She tried to laugh. "And it's kind of stuffy in here, too."

"I didn't mean to freak you out or anything."

It seemed a true statement somehow and she calmed a bit. If she'd been in any real danger, the moment had passed. He was acting normal again.