Don't Ever Tell
“Springing upright in bed, she grabbed the .38 revolver that lay on the nightstand. The gun was already loaded. She clutched it in trembling hands and swept it across the bedroom. The lamps were off, but a nightlight burned on the side of the bed, radiating a greenish glow that cast the room in an unsettling, alien light. The dresser, the bookcase, and the leather club chair might have been mysterious artifacts beamed into the room by an advanced civilization. She was alone. The house was quiet ...but for a soft wind whispering through the eaves. She cleared her throat and drew in several deep, relaxing breaths. She placed the gun back on the table. The digital clock read a quarter past seven in the morning. She had gotten into bed around midnight, but she felt as if she had barely slept at all. Dexter haunted her sleep just as he did her waking hours. She swung her legs to the side of the mattress. Her sneakers sat beside the bed, ready to be slipped on at a moment’s notice. She’d gone to bed fully dressed in a pink sweatshirt and matching pants.MoreLess
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