I hope tomorrow will be a more productive day, but I have a feeling my inner critic is going to make sure it isn’t.
TWO
Two nights later
I SIT UP straight in bed and slip the facemask off my eyes.
My heart is hammering loud and wild.
I’m not sure what woke me, but it was loud enough to jolt me straight out of a deep sleep.
I’m trying to regain my bearings when I notice the lights. They’re flashing through the windows of my bedroom, red and blue, splashing across the walls.
There’s a window directly behind my headboard, so I look out of it, trying to get a sense of what’s happening outside the cabin, but the lights are coming from the front yard. My bedroom is on the side of the house, so the lights are all I can see.
A loud knock at the door makes me flinch and propels me off the bed.
I slip on my robe and grab my phone. The pounding is coming from the front door.
I look at the time on my phone. It’s only midnight. I’ve only been asleep for two hours. I don’t normally go to bed that early, especially when I’m here in the cabin, but it’s been two days since I did the live video with Candice and I haven’t been able to write at all since then. I’ve been sleeping more than I’ve been writing.
I flip on the front porch light and peer through the peephole. There’s a police officer standing a couple of feet from my door. His neck is craned and he’s looking over his shoulder, back toward his patrol car.
His car is parked out in the road, right in front of the cabin. The lights are so bright behind him, I can’t make out anything beyond his silhouette.
What in the world is going on?
I release the deadbolt, but I leave the chain lock latched and open the door a few inches.
Being a writer comes with a constant sense of distrust, no matter what uniform a person might be wearing. Too many plot twists go through my head for me not to assume the worst in every situation. For all I know, this guy could be posing as a cop just so I’ll open the door to him.
When the cop hears the front door open, he brings his gaze to mine. I can’t make out his features very well with all the lights flashing behind him and the sleep still in my eyes, but I can tell he’s not the kind of cop who eats donuts and coffee for breakfast every morning. He’s tall and muscular and I suddenly feel underdressed in my nightgown.
I have no idea why he’s here, but part of me is thankful, because if I had to put a face to Hot Cop Cam, this would be it.
The cop holds up a badge and I glance at it long enough to notice the wedding ring on his ring finger.
“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m officer Nathaniel Saint.”
I stare at his badge long enough to read his name. I bring my hand up to my throat as he puts his badge away. I can feel my heart thumping against my palm. I don’t know if it’s the scratchy baritone of his voice that made my heart rate pick up even more, or if it’s the realization that this isn’t a dream. There is actually a cop at my door in the middle of the night, which can only mean something bad has happened.
My thoughts immediately go to my family. Did something happen to someone? Is he here to bring me bad news?
As if he can sense my unease, the edges of his voice smooth over when he says, “There’s nothing to worry about. There was an incident that occurred up the street about an hour ago. I just have a couple of questions if you don’t mind. Protocol.”
I blow out a breath of relief knowing everyone is safe. I nod and unlatch the lock on my front door.
I realize after opening the door and being met with a cool breeze that I am, in fact, underdressed. I wrap my arms over myself and nod toward the kitchen, inviting the officer inside. He stands at least five inches taller than me.
“What kind of incident?” I ask. I stand a few feet from the door. He takes a step into the house but remains near the doorway. I can’t help but wonder how old he is. I’m twenty-nine and I