| 7 Comforting Stranger |
| �Peggy. If you knew me better, you�d know that I would never do what you�re thinking.� It was late, her nerves were raw and strangely enough he sounded convincing. But why should she believe him? He could be lying. Although she didn�t think so. Her mind was a mesh of anxiety and confusion. Mike seemed so nice. Her instincts told her to trust him, but her head warned her not to. She reached up and put her hand on the bolt. Should she let him in? Suddenly, she remembered Nick. He really frightened her. Why was Mike with him? He appeared to be one of those diseased people Mike had mentioned earlier. If she unlocked the door, would he be there? Maybe they were both right outside just waiting for her to snap the bolt back. �What about Nick? If I unlock the door, how do I know that he won�t come rushing in here?� she asked nervously. �Because, I give you my word. Please, trust me.� She shook her head to herself. �I don�t know...?� She stood behind the door, her hand gripping the bolt. If they had really wanted to get in, they could have easily shouldered the door open, she reasoned. She sighed. �Alright...but only you.� �Thank you.� He looked across at Nick standing in the hallway nearby and motioned for him to move into the livingroom. Nick remained steadfast; he had no intention of leaving. Mike walked over to him. �I think it would be best if you make yourself scarce for awhile,� he told him. �That wasn�t the plan, Mike.� �Well, the plan�s been changed. This is the best I can do right now.� Nick flashed Mike a look of disgust and turned sharply. He took a couple of steps, then turned back. �I�ll only play along for so long, then I want my turn.� He strode along the hallway, through the livingroom and out of the screen door, letting it to bang shut behind him. Mike shook his head. He had no idea how much time he had before Nick got restless. He moved back to the bedroom door. �Peggy? You can let me in now.� �Alright.� She snapped the bolt back and peered around the door. �Where�s Nick?� �He�s out on the porch.� Peggy swung the door back and Mike stepped inside closing the door behind him. He gazed around the dimly lit bedroom, noticing that it was also furnished elegantly. In the middle of the room stood an antique brass bed, dressed in a soft jade quilt. At the head sat four plump pillows with lilac covers and several small cushions of various sizes. On either side of the bed stood a solid wooden nightstand, an etched glass lamp with delicate crystals hanging from the shade sitting in its centre. One of the lamps created a gentle, yellow glow across the room. A dresser stood against the right wall and a plush velvet armchair sat in the left corner, close to the bed. �You have good taste, Peggy.� She watched him without answering. �May I sit down?� He pointed to the armchair. �I guess so.� She was feeling extremely vulnerable being alone in her room with him. |