Tawny knew before she opened her eyes that he was there, standing at the end of the bed – his hands wrapped around the top rail of the brass footboard, head down, his normal position. Cold air swirled around her face and seeped through the lime green comforter. A lump of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.
How did he find me?
She fluttered her lashes in order to catch a glimpse.
He’s there. Just like every other night. Why?
Waiting didn’t help. She’d tried it before, but he stayed until she looked. Slowly opening her eyes, her nose flared as she sucked in a quick breath. The sight always shocked her, even though she’d witnessed it hundreds of times. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn’t. She stared at his white knuckles clasped around the shiny brass as if it would save his life, but there was no way it could.
The blue letterman jacket he wore sported white leather sleeves. A wolf’s head graced the right side. Its silver, fake fur ruffled in a nonexistent breeze, which always seemed to be there. The eyes of the wolf, deep and black, stared back at her from his chest, daring her eyes to close. Many times they had, but he waited until she opened them again.
She glanced at the tattered baseball cap perched on his head. A giant, red C graced the front and the red brim completely obliterated his face.
The Cubs.
Anger welled in her chest.
Leave me alone.
In that second, the hat began to move as he raised his head. The brim traveled toward the ceiling, revealing the boyish good looks beneath its shadow. A square jaw, followed by full lips and high cheekbones came into view as if in slow motion.
Tawny had witnessed this hundreds of times before, but his face always awed her. He was about her age, a junior in high school. She never got used to the shiver that ran through her when her green eyes met his. They were large, a milk chocolate color, and surrounded by long lashes, something wasted on a boy.
When they finally came into view, she gasped. She couldn’t help it. His eyes were the only part of him that seemed real. The pale tan of the oak door behind him shone through everything but his liquid eyes.
As always, once their gazes locked he turned and hurried away, right through the solid wood blocking the exit to the room.
She grasped the covers and pulled them tight around her neck. Chills overtook her and she shivered. Blowing a stream of air from her lips, she watched the vapor settle above her in a cloud before slowly dissipating. It was cold, so very cold after he left. Tawny’s teeth chattered.
After his disappearance, it would take about ten minutes for the room to warm back up to its normal temperature.
How did he know where I was? We moved. He followed.
Her attention flitted to the bright yellow daisies mixed with purple pansies on the wallpaper to her left. Tawny pulled the comforter closer and rolled onto her side.
She blew into the air again, wrinkling her nose and watching as the moisture dissipated, faster this time. The chill he’d left behind was almost gone. She glanced at the yellow daisy nightlight glowing just below her. Even that didn’t faze him as the therapist had suggested it might. He still came. As the air grew warmer, she released her death-grip on the covers.
What does he want? Why does he always wait for me to open my eyes, then leave?
If moving didn’t get the job done, she’d have to figure something else out. The nightly appearances unnerved her, although, all he had ever done was stand at the foot of the bed. Still, the fact he’d followed her to a new house, in a new neighborhood across town, left her uneasy. How could she rid herself of her unwanted nighttime guest?
