Laced

Laced - Chapter 49 (Uncovering the Past)

I take it from his hands and do as he says, and then walk up to counter again to bunch up all of the plastic bags together into one bag.

Two strong arms enclose around my waist from behind, pressing my stomach against the edge of the vinyl counter.

"Babe," he breathes into my ear, freezing me into place. I can feel my heart racing, and my breathing hitches.

The muscles in my stomach clench his hand moves up from my waist and skims over my abdomen. I am literally frozen in his hold, trapped in his captivating arms.

His lips press to my neck, not quite a kiss, and I let out a shaky laugh. He smirks against my shoulder when he notices the goosebumps raise on my skin, and his hands squeeze my hips.

He chuckles when I squirm under his touch, and I duck my head, embarrassed. He pulls away much too quickly, and I feel kind of empty and exposed without his warm embrace.

"Come. I want to show you the rooms." He says, and then tugs my hand, pulling me behind him. I follow him without resisting, my state too dazed by his intoxicating touch. I was intoxicated, off of his touch and his touch only, and his hand that closed around mine shot electricity though my body.

He leads us to a small hallway past the living room, where there are four doors. One of them is open; looking inside, I can see that it is a bathroom. He leads me to the door across the bathroom, and pulls the knob open.

Inside is a small, twin-sized bed, and there are a few toys thrown across the room. I'm curious at why there was a mess on the floor - because the entire house seemed abandoned. The bed is made, however, and the curtains are drawn.

Before I could ask any questions, he pulls me out of the bedroom and flicks off the light. The next door he brings me to is much larger than the other three, and he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before he pushes the door open. I can tell there is something he's hiding, something that he's not telling me about this small ranch house, and it's worrying me. There's a look of nostalgia upon his features, but I didn't bring it up, only because I knew it would upset him.

"This...this is the master bedroom." His voice comes out hoarse, weak. There's a sudden mood swing, something in his brown eyes that I can't decipher.

He switches the light on, and I take in my surroundings. The walls of the room were covered in the same vintage wallpaper like the rest of the house, and there was a small queen sized bed in the middle of the room. Next to the bed on each side were nightstands, each with a small lamp on them.

There were picture frames of a middle-aged couple, and I frowned. "Does someone live here?" I asked him, confused. I'd gotten the impression that no one did actually live here because the whole house looked untouched, but these picture frames are making me rethink that.

"No." He says in a grave voice.

"Then who are those?" I approach the nightstand where one of the photos were, and just as I was about to grab hold of the picture frame, his hand stops me.

"Let's go see the other room." If I wasn't mistaken, his voice almost seemed laced with panic, making me scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion. If it weren't for that, I would've stood my ground and waited for him to answer, but instead, I let him take my hand and lead me out of the room.

The room right next to the master bedroom was closed, and the door was much smaller than the master bedroom's. Once again, he takes a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping aside for me to see.

The room was painted a soft blue color, matching the untouched sheets on the twin-sized bed. I step inside the room, and look up to the ceiling fan. There was something about this room - I couldn't quite put a finger on it, though. Something - different. Not in a creepy way, but enough to stand out to me from the rest.