Tristan gave a small smile and said with mock seriousness, “Would you believe some crazy woman shot me with a magical arrow and forever altered my eye color?”
Heather’s eyes grew wide as Scarlet looked at Tristan with her mouth falling open.
What was he doing?
Tristan glanced at Scarlet, but made no expression.
Heather nodded and mimicked his sarcastic tone, “I would believe that. And would you believe that I saw you in the warehouse district hanging out with a shady dude a few weeks ago?” She raised a challenging eyebrow.
Tristan’s smile tightened.
“I would believe that.”
“Well, this looks friendly,” Gabriel said, appearing at Scarlet’s side and putting a halt to the very uncomfortable tension filling up between Heather and Tristan. “What’s going on?” He looked at Tristan and cocked his head to the side.
Tristan looked at his twin. “Nothing.”
“Well, in that case,” Gabriel gave Scarlet a kiss on the cheek. “We need to get going if we want to get to the movie on time.”
Scarlet looked at him and smiled.
Movies. Right.
“Okay, well, this has been fun.” Not. Scarlet turned to Heather, deliberately not looking at Tristan. “See you later?”
She gave Heather a quick hug goodbye and watched as Tristan turned and walked away without a word during their embrace.
Yep. He hates me.
As he walked away, Scarlet’s pounding heart began to subside.
41
Late that evening, Scarlet was in a dead and peaceful sleep when she heard a noise downstairs. Her eyes flew open as she sat up in bed, listening.
Someone was in the house.
She heard a faint shuffle and a creak on the downstairs floor.
Of course something totally freaky would happen while Laura was a million miles away.
Slowly and quietly, Scarlet crept out of bed.
She looked around her room for her cell phone and wanted to groan. She’d left it downstairs on the kitchen table. How was she going to call the police?
Okay, don’t panic.
She heard a second creak on the staircase and realized the intruder was making his way upstairs.
Scarlet panicked.
Should I fight?
Nope.
Should I hide?
Maybe.
Should I run?
Definitely.
Frozen in the darkness of her bedroom, Scarlet formulated a plan to exit her house without tipping off the intruder.
She tiptoed to her cracked bedroom door and peeked into the black hallway. If she could slink out of her room and hide in the hall bathroom at the top of the stairs until the intruder passed by, then she could run downstairs and out the front door, screaming like a crazy person.
Yes. That was a good plan.
She pulled open her bedroom door just wide enough to fit her slim body through.
Creak.
The stranger was higher up on the stairs—she had to hurry.
Slipping through her doorway, Scarlet snuck along the dark hallway wall and into the bathroom. She hid behind the open bathroom door and peeked out between the door hinges, her eyes fixed on the stairs.
Her breath was shaky as she waited in silence.
All the lights were off in the house, making it impossible to see anything clearly. Moonlight spilling in from the windows was the only illumination.
A silhouetted figure appeared at the top of the stairs and paused.
It was a male form—a figure and body type she’d never seen before.
A stranger.
Scarlet began to shake, cursing herself for leaving her phone downstairs.
The figure, whose features were indiscernible in the darkness, cocked his head to the side like he was listening for something.
Scarlet held her breath.
Slowly, he moved down the hallway. When he walked passed the bathroom, Scarlet was sure her pounding heart would give her away.
But it didn’t.
The stranger crept along. Past the bathroom. Past Laura’s room. But stopped at Scarlet’s bedroom, and stood outside her door.
Scarlet wanted to cry.
He thought she was in there.
He thought she was sleeping in her bed. Alone. Vulnerable.
This was more than just an intruder. This was someone after Scarlet personally.
She watched him silently enter her dark bedroom.
Without another thought, Scarlet scooted from behind the bathroom door and tiptoed into the hallway. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream.
But, mostly, she wanted to live.
As quietly as she could, Scarlet turned her back on her bedroom and hurried to the staircase.
She’d just reached the top of the stairs, when a strong, male hand covered her mouth and pulled her back up against a strong body.
I’m going to die.
42
Tristan could barely control his fear when he whispered into Scarlet’s ear, “Get out of here!”
There was a strange man in Scarlet’s bedroom.
In the middle of the night.
When no one else was home.
Tristan had watched him enter Scarlet’s house a few minutes ago and immediately followed him inside. He’d seen the stranger head straight for Scarlet’s bedroom and nearly lost his mind.
Tristan didn’t know what the intruder was after, but he didn’t care.
He was a threat to Scarlet.
And he would die.
43
Scarlet calmed down as soon as she registered Tristan’s voice in her ear.
If Tristan was here, she was safe.
How she knew that, Scarlet didn’t know. But she believed it with all her heart.
Still wrapped in his arms, Scarlet let her body sink into him as she exhaled.
She stopped shaking, but her heart started thudding like it was under attack.
And, without warning, her eyes went blind went a memory.
She was in the forest. With Tristan.
They were standing the same way, his arms wrapped around her body as she rested her back against his chest.
But they weren’t in danger.
In was nighttime, and there were a million stars winking at them from the heavens. The dark forest trees softly danced in the warm wind and his voice was close to her ear when he said, “I promise.”
The memory slipped away, and Scarlet was again at the top of her staircase. In Tristan’s arms. He released her and, for the first time since he’d grabbed her, Scarlet realized Tristan wasn’t the intruder.
Which meant the bad guy was still in her bedroom….
For brief moment, Scarlet didn’t move.
Tristan’s voice was full-volume and stern when he yelled, “Run!”
Scarlet blinked one time, before doing exactly that.
She ran.
She’d almost reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard a rustling followed by a series of thumps and groans.
Alarm shot through her as she looked back up at the top of the staircase.
From the light of the moon she could see Tristan wrestling with the stranger, arms and legs flailing in the darkness. Moonlight glinted off the blade of a knife in the stranger’s hand—a knife he was stabbing Tristan with.
A surge of adrenaline rushed through Scarlet’s veins as she reached the main floor. She hurried to the kitchen table and found her cell phone.