Alone (17 page)

“
Let me take you
home.”

“
I don’t want anything from you.
I don’t even want to know you exist.”

He reached out again, but she jerked
away from him, looking at his hand as though it were a snake about
to strike.

He stared at her. “I would never
hurt you. You must know that.”

“
I don’t know anything anymore.
What you are is not supposed to be real. It’s a myth, a fairytale,
a horror story. You’re not supposed to exist!”

“
I’m real, Serenity, as real as
you are. The way I feel about you is real. I don’t blame you for
being scared, I would be too, but it doesn’t change what I am.” He
sighed, “I can’t help what I am.”

Her mouth dropped open in
amazement.
“Feel? How can you
feel
? You’re a freak and what, am I supposed to feel
sorry for you?”

Emotions caught her in their
grip, words spilling from her mouth.
She wasn’t thinking, just
reacting.

“
At least let me take you home,”
he offered again.

“
Don’t come anywhere near me!”
she screamed, her hands held up in defense. “I hate you! I wish I’d
never met you!”

The pain her words caused was
perceptible on his face and suddenly she was alone in the night,
standing barefoot at the open gate.

Loss crashed in from all sides,
the night empty without Sebastian. She cried out of confusion and
turmoil. She wanted him to come back, at the same time terrified he
would.

Her whole perception of reality
lay destroyed on the gravel at her feet. She’d never believed in
ghosts. Had struggled with the whole ‘God and the Devil’ thing. Now
she was being forced to believe in something out of a nightmare and
it was all contained within a man she thought she might
love.

She didn’t know what to
believe.

T
he loss Serenity felt was also for the
possibility of the future she’d dare to hope for with Sebastian. A
good, happy future.

She had lost everything that
mattered.

She should have known better than to
hope. Since when did anything in her life come to any
good?

Serenity glanced back at the
house. What had previously seemed grand now looked obnoxious and
imposing. She briefly contemplated going back to get her things but
couldn’t face it. Part of her desperately wanted to see Sebastian,
to tell him she hadn’t meant what she said, but fear held her
back.

Hopefully a cab driver could
be
persuaded
to take her home. With her bed-head hair, creased clothes and no
shoes, she looked a mess. If a cabbie drove right past her without
stopping, she wouldn’t blame them. A spare key to the house was
hidden in a fake rock Jackson had built into their front wall.
She’d fought with him about the rock when they were first married,
not liking the lack of security. How strange to think in the end,
the danger had come from inside her home.

Serenity barely felt the stones
cutting into the bottoms of her feet as she started her long walk
home.

Chapter Fourteen

Serenity thought she’d never
sleep
but
exhaustion worked through her and, though she believed her mind
would never rest, it did.

When she woke the next morning, Serenity
knew she couldn’t stay in the house. Everywhere she turned,
reminders of Jackson lingered. His presence surrounded her, so
strong she found herself spinning around, expecting to find him
standing, furious and dead, behind her.

How could a house feel so haunted when
the supernatural she feared was outside?

M
emories filled the place; none of them
good. She would have to find a motel to stay in until she figured
out what the hell to do with herself.

She had no family or friends, no job, and
a house she couldn’t live in. No part of her life was
tangible.

Serenity didn’t want to admit it
but deep down she had hoped Sebastian would be her way out. She
thought he would take her away from all of this. Now she was stuck
in the house where she’d lived with her abusive husband, the house
she
murdered
him in, and she couldn’t see a way out. Staying in a hotel
was only short term. They bought the house just after they got
married and she wouldn’t be able to sell without Jackson’s
signature or the authorities knowing he was dead.

Ironically, even in death, Jackson tied
her to him.

This time, she couldn’t
rely on a man to save her.

The thought made her bolt
upright in bed. Was that what she
’d done again; waited for another man to
save her?

When she met Jackson, she thought he would
save her from her step-father. Now she’d done exactly the same
thing with Sebastian.

Serenity groaned and put her head in her
hands. Could she be any more pathetic? Perhaps her feelings for
Sebastian were never real? Maybe she’d seen what she wanted—a
handsome knight to rescue her—and her sick mind had conjured up the
emotions needed to escape Jackson?

The ache in her heart told a different
story.

She couldn’t love Sebastian. He was a
fucking vampire! Even the thought made her brain hurt, as though
the idea was too much. Every instinct told her Sebastian being a
vampire was impossible, but she couldn’t deny what she’d seen. In
so many ways, he just seemed like a man who’d shown her the
possibility of a normal life. For the first time, she’d believed it
possible to have someone in her life that actually cared about her.
She didn’t want to think about what he was, yet the memory of his
fingertips on her skin and the way he looked at her filled
Serenity’s mind.

H
er lower lip quivered and a lump choked
her throat. She wished she could take back the knowledge, rewind
the last twelve hours and return to the safe, warm place of not
knowing.

The sound of the doorbell startled
Serenity from her thoughts and set her heart racing. No one ever
rang the bell.

She wiped away the tears dampening her
cheeks. The mailman probably had a package too big for the box;
Jackson liked to order things on the Internet. The thought didn’t
stop the flutter of nervous butterflies playing havoc in her
stomach and a thin sheen of cold sweat coated her palms.

She had fallen asleep fully dressed minus
her shoes and didn’t need to worry about answering the door in her
nightwear. Nevertheless, she hadn’t made it out of her bedroom door
before the person rang the bell twice more.

That got her moving.

Perhaps it’s
Sebastian,
the stupid, hopeful
little part of her thought.
No, since when did he bother to ring the bell?
Hell, when did he bother to use the door?

Anyway, it
’s daytime. Vampires can’t come
out in the light.

The notion sent a shiver through
her.

Shaking off the idea, and with the
doorbell still ringing in short, insistent bursts, Serenity rushed
down the stairs. Through the textured glass in the front door, she
made out the silhouettes of two figures. Alarm raced through
her.

Keeping the chain on, she opened the door
to find two policemen standing on her doorstep. She peered through
the gap.

“
Mrs. Hathaway?” the taller of
the officers asked.

She nodded and closed the door again to
remove the chain. Her shaking hands rattled the metal as she
unhooked it from the doorframe.

“
How can I help?” she asked,
opening the door fully.

Her face was still wet from tears and her
skin felt tight and shiny. Her eyes must be bloodshot from crying
and the policemen would notice something amiss.

The taller of the officers offered her a
smile that reached his dark brown eyes, and she allowed herself to
relax a little.

“
I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs.
Hathaway,” said the taller officer. “I’m Officer Bently. This is my
partner, Officer Dawson.” The older, fatter man gave her a tight
smile. “We’re trying to find your husband.”

Her stomach tightened. “My husband?
He’s...,” her voice broke. “He’s not here.”

“
Do you know when he’ll be
back?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she hoped they’d
think it was out of embarrassment as opposed to guilt.

“
My husband,” she said
again, “left me. Two days ago. I’m sorry, but I don’t know where he
is.”

The two officers exchanged glances and
Serenity thought she might collapse.

Officer Dawson stepped
forward.

He
’s playing the bad-cop,
Serenity
decided.

“
Do you mind if we come in, Mrs.
Hathaway? We’d like to take a look around.”

She hesitated for a moment, “Can I ask
what this is about?”

Her compulsive need to please
rose within her
but alarm bells rang and she didn’t want these men snooping
around her house.

“
Of course not” Dawson said. The
younger officer beside him cleared his throat and stared awkwardly
at the ground. “We’ve had an allegation of an attack.”

Her heart nearly stopped and the blood
drained from her face. She couldn’t speak.

“
An attack?” she managed to
whisper.

The voice in her head shouted,
‘
They know!
They know! They know!’

Officer Bently took over. “I’m
so sorry to tell you this, but a woman came to the station in the
early hours of this morning
and reported that your husband sexually attacked
her late last night.”

Her mind burred again, the world around
her spinning. “Are you sure you’ve got the right
person?”

“
The woman in question claims she
knows your husband. She said they’ve met on several
occasions.”

She shook her head, her face a mask of
confusion. “I don’t understand how this is possible.”

“
I realize how shocking this must
be to you, but we need to follow up these allegations. I’m not
saying you’re harboring your husband, but we need to be certain. We
can always come back with a warrant,” he added.

“
No, no, please come in.”
She backed away from the door, allowing the two police officers
into her home.

Images of Jackson’s body, soaked in blood
and askew on the floor, flashed through her mind. Would they see
it? No, she was being paranoid. They were policemen, not
psychics.

Serenity guided the two men into the
living room, desperate not to have them in the kitchen, and both
men ended up perched on the edge of her couch. Serenity sat
opposite on the occasional chair. She leaned forward, her hands
clasped together.

“
When was the last time you
saw your husband?” Officer Bently asked.

Her mind raced, thinking back. “I brought
him home from the hospital three days ago, but the next day he felt
better and said he was going to the bar for a drink. I went to bed
and when I woke up I realized he wasn’t home and some of his stuff
was missing.”

She’d been talking too much, too fast, a
stream of consciousness pouring from her mouth.

“
Your husband was in the
hospital?” Officer Dawson asked. A frown creased his chubby
face.

“
Yeah, I...” she stumbled over
her words, feeling sick. “I assumed you already knew.”

“
We wouldn’t check hospital
records without good reason,” Bently said.

“
No, of course
not.”

“
And what did you do when you
realized he’d left you?” Bently continued, “Have you tried to
contact him at all? Called his cell?”

“
No,” she said again. “His
leaving wasn’t exactly a surprise. We’ve been having some
problems...” she trailed off, already feeling like she’d said too
much.

“
Could you call him now for us,
Mrs. Hathaway?”

The request came from Dawson and Serenity
turned to him and blinked. She hadn’t even thought about Jackson’s
cell. She had no idea where it was, or if Sebastian took the phone
when he packed the rest of Jackson’s things.

“
Don’t worry,” said Officer
Bently. ” You won’t have to speak to him. We just want to see if he
answers.”

She nodded—not trusting herself to
speak—and stood and walked over to the phone. She had Jackson’s
cell on speed dial and her hand shook as she placed the
call.

From somewhere upstairs came the thin,
piping sound of a Nokia ring tone.

Three sets of eyes rose toward the ceiling
and Serenity slowly put down the phone.

“
He’s not up there,” she said,
certain she knew their thoughts. They probably thought she had him
hidden in the closet or stashed under the bed. If only they knew
the truth.

“
Mind if we take a look?”
asked Officer Bently, rising to his feet.