Free Eerie by C.M McCoy Page A

proximity and let her examine him for several seconds before he leaned even closer.
    â€œI’m a fast healer,” he said softly. He looked at her lips briefly then smiled proudly as he straightened up.
    â€œOh,” she breathed. But then she blinked. “Wait, how is that possible? You had—”
    â€œIt was nothing, now go on.” His tone was stern, but then his face softened. He patted her bum and pointed at the bathroom.
    She opened her mouth to protest, but the fight in her was long gone. And seeing the patience evaporate from his face again, she bowed her head, ambled down the hall, and hopped in the shower. He obviously wasn’t in the mood for questions, and she wasn’t about to push it. The last thing she wanted was for him to get annoyed and leave. She’d just ask him later.
    The blast of hot water beating against her head felt divine, and she felt safe closing her eyes and letting the shower’s thunder fill her ears, knowing Fin was standing guard.
    Steam was a funny thing. It had a way of evaporating all of her worries. As long as she escaped the shower before the steam re-settled, she could leave those worries to condense on the walls and trickle down the drain. That’s why she always got out of the shower before she turned it off, which made a mess of the floor. It drove Holly insane, because she always seemed to find a puddle of water—and with a socked foot.
    Hailey smiled, thinking of all the soggy socks she’d seen Holly peel off while barking Hailey’s name out in two curt syllables. Wrapping her arms across her stomach, she pushed the ache from her belly. Oh, how she missed her big sister!
    A door slammed inside the townhouse, and Hailey jumped. She cut the water off and stood soaked and slightly soapy inside the tub as she pulled the curtain back, listening.
    â€œFin?” she called, trying to hear over the drip, drip, drip of the shower head.
    Dammit. Answer me. She shuddered as chilliness crept into the shower and chased her steam away, leaving her worries to settle on her back, two heavy, hairy-legged tarantulas creeping across her shoulders.
    â€œFin!” she called again. “Uncle Pix?”
    Hailey grabbed Holly’s towel from the rack, swatted her shoulders with it then wrapped it under her arms, tip-toed to the door, and cracked it open.
    â€œFin?” He should have heard that.
    Opening the door enough to poke her head out, she looked down the hall, but all she saw was stillness. All she heard was silence. No kettle noise from the stove. No shadows moving on the wall. The house seemed hollow.
    He went outside to get something from his car , she decided, and she traded her towel for her fluffy pink robe, tying it around her waist as she jogged into the entryway and peeked out the front window.
    His car was gone! He’d left her!
    Heading for the phone, she found two teacups on the kitchen counter, but the kettle sat half empty under the faucet in the sink. Obviously, he’d meant to stay and must’ve left in a hurry to move his car or fetch something quick. He must’ve figured he’d be back before Hailey was out of the shower. That was the only explanation for leaving without a word, and she could watch for him from the balcony on the second floor, which was precisely what she intended to do.
    She’d give him three kinds of hell when he got back, she thought as she climbed the stairs and headed to the balcony.
    Echoing her frustration, the neighbor’s dog snarled then barked, just as the air on the balcony grew cold. Like icy fingers, the night air weaved through her hair, sending a chill straight to her core. But it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to chase her back inside. She knelt in front of the railing, sat on her feet, and pressed her forehead against the bars, watching the road in both directions. Several minutes passed, and Hailey’s exhaustion betrayed her resilience, squeezing her throat