Chapter 17: Part 3

Delanie picked up the phone and called Sam. He answered on the second ring but she couldn't understand anything he said. The storm was causing interference. She hung up, wondering what else she could do.



Waiting for trouble to come through the door was much more painful than she thought it would be. All night long she'd sat and worried about what might happen. She'd gotten up a few times to grab some water and food.

Alone never felt so scary before. The guy on the island with her couldn't be reached. She'd been calling him for the last three hours without any answer.



Something had gone wrong. The type of wrong that movie directors took advantage of. If her life story were splashed on the big screen this would be the part where the stupid blond ran upstairs to escape. Thank God for her that this house had no upstairs. Instead she plopped down in the corner and waited for something big and ugly to come through the door and attack her.



The sun was already up but still she didn't move. Sure, in the horror movies the killer attacked in the dark, but she knew better. She'd been in the movies and knew how manufactured everything was to promote fear. In real life the fear didn't leave just because the sun was up.



The rain pounded on the windows and she thought about getting up to close the shutters but the risk was too high. No, she would stay right here in this corner, hiding from the crazy bastard. She would be ready, no matter what happened.



A loud bang split the silence. Delanie popped open her eyes, realizing that she'd dozed off. The noise sounded again, then again.



Damn, she would have to check it out. She stood and shook out the kinks in her back and neck. The noise sounded again. Hell, she should have closed the damn shutters.



Her knees shook as she moved through the house. Just what she didn't need, another emergency. She should just let it go, but her responsible nature wouldn't let her. The owners would probably throw a fit at the mess her attacker made the other night.



She'd need to hire a crew to fix the problems. She hated celebrities who destroyed places and left messes. They gave a bad name to people like her. She couldn't remember the number of times someone would assume she would trash a place or act irresponsible.



The noise grew louder as she moved to the back bedroom. She saw the culprit. A shutter banged against the windowpane, rattling the window. She would need to go outside and secure the blasted thing.



Never again would she vacation alone. The crowds and paparazzi had driven her crazy but this was insane. She had to do everything by herself. She had no help and all she'd run into were problems. Well, the first week of her vacation had been nice. Enjoying the hot sun and the cool breezes without fear of being photographed or hounded had been wonderful. Relaxing, really relaxing had helped her to think. But the last few days had put her back in the annoying position of having to watch her back.



She went to the French doors to go fix the shutter but the wind drove the rain against that side of the house. The front door was her only option. She didn't like using that door. She couldn't see out and there weren't any peepholes. She wondered why in the world would anyone ever put up a door like this on a private island.



With a shaky hand she reached out and turned the knob, pushing the door open. Relief flooded through her when she saw no one was there. She was being ridiculous. No one else was on the island yet. The guy probably wasn't even watching her. He'd probably sailed off never to be seen again.



She watched the rain blow through the trees, soaking the ground. The storm died down for a moment and she decided to make a run for the other side of the house. By the time she reached the offending shutter her clothes were soaked. She latched the shutters closed, protecting the window if the storm got worse.



For a few seconds she contemplated closing the rest of the shutters but decided against when lightning flashed and thunder shook the island.



With the wind ripping at her clothes she dashed back to the front of the house, seeking shelter under the small porch. The island really was beautiful. She loved the palm trees and the ocean. Only if she felt safer would the place be perfect.



Lightning cracked again, forcing her back inside. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. The air-conditioned house chilled her to the bone. She dropped the towel and peeled off her clothes. The fear of being watched abated, allowing her to move through the house freely.



After pulling on her clothes she decided that sitting around wouldn't do her any good. The crazy bastard wouldn't attack when she wanted him too, no he'd wait until he thought he could take her by surprise.



She stepped into the hall and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. "Great, now what?" The generator shouldn't have run out of gas. She'd made sure to check it when they returned to the island. Now she'd have to go down to the outbuilding that housed the beast and she'd just gotten dry.



Maybe waiting a few hours to get the electricity up and running wouldn't be too bad. The house seemed darker as she walked down the hall. The rooms were black, almost like the sun had set, but she knew better, it was early morning and the clouds couldn't be that thick.



She looked down the hall towards the main living rooms. They were dark too. Almost like someone had closed all the shutters. She tried to swallow but the lump in her throat proved to be too big. Her legs felt wobbly as she made her way down the hall and into the living room.



Waiting for the attack shook her to the core. She knew someone might be watching her. Freaked out didn't even come close to how she felt.



The waiting for the attack made her head buzz with pain. She wanted to flee but didn't know where the hell she would go. The guy had her locked in the house without an escape. The only place she could go was back to the master bedroom and that would only be a temporary reprieve from his attack.



She backed up, moving away from the main rooms and back to the bedroom. Her entire body shook and she placed her hand on the wall to steady herself. Each step backwards was an agonizing journey into the unknown. What if he was already in the house? What if he was watching her, just waiting for her to make a mistake?



One step back then another until she ran into something solid. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Nothing had been blocking the hall when she'd left her room earlier. There was only one explanation. The bastard had her. She wanted to scream but her voice would manifest.



Her legs gave out just as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest.



"My darling, I've come back for you. My boat is waiting and I'm ready."



The thunder of blood through her ears blocked out the sound of what happened next. At first the light-headedness felt like a reprieve then she knew she was about to pass out. She didn't want to be trapped here with this jerk.



Her arms swung wildly but had no effect. He was in control and she wasn't. He had nothing to lose, but she had everything at stake.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011