Vision

Chapter Nineteen

The rest of the week follows a clear-cut routine. Peter goes to work while I divide my time between Oasis and preparing to confront Colton, followed by a quiet dinner and some TV before he goes to sleep in his room and I try to sleep on the couch.

Tonight though as I lay on the couch trying to fall asleep, my mind wanders to the vision that I had over a week ago. My brain begins to tick with a countdown as to when I have to put my plan into action.

I sabotage myself with thoughts of him. Sleep seems far and unreachable. I become startled at every noise, but one in particular actually gets me off the couch. I don't know why, the noise was barely audible, but I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach urging me to go to the door. When have my senses let me down? Pressing myself against the door, I stare through the peephole.

It's a gut punch, a knife to the chest as I catch a shadow just outside. Immediately I freeze, unable to move, to breath, to speak. Sheer fear shivers through my body. There's a man standing outside my door. I watch as he tapes a piece of paper onto the wood.

My arms began to shake from my weight leaning down on them. I intended on watching him leave, but when he turns around to face Peter's door, the door I'm standing behind, I drop. I hit the floor with a thump. I know he heard it because the brass door knob begins to turn.

I stare without blinking at the knob that begins to jiggle. It stops and soon after I hear soft thumps resembling footsteps. Crawling the few inches back to the door, I stand on shaky legs to peer through the glass peephole one more time.

From what I can see the hall is clear. Just as I was about to go wake Peter up my view into the hallway is blocked by –I'm assuming- the same man that put something on my door. He leans up close and smiles. It's like he knows I'm watching or Peter is watching. Within a matter of seconds the hole is covered with a piece of paper.

Without wasting a second, I bolt for Peter's bedroom. There's no way I'm going to sleep on that couch when that weirdo might come back. He might do more damage then leave a piece of paper. He might break in and Peter is right. I shouldn't be the first person an intruder comes across. Especially when that intruder is most likely there for me.

I cautiously enter the pitch black room and feel my way over to the bed. I come up to the side that Peter is not occupying. Thank God for that. I crawl on top of the blanket and gently nudged his arm to wake him up. He grunts in response, not fully realizing what's going on.

I whisper, "Can I sleep in here?"

"Bianca? What's wrong?" He sleepily answers.

"We'll deal with it in the morning. I'm just a little freaked right now."

"You don't have to ask. Come on." He pries the blankets out from under me, gently pulling them back. Once I'm on the mattress, he flicks the blankets over me. Suddenly, I'm second guessing myself. Did I really just crawl into bed with him?

Fully under the blankets, both of us on our backs, a well sized gap between us. But with the appearance of some stranger lurking the halls, his malicious smiling face brings forth unwanted flashbacks of Colton. He's showing me he's not dead and that he's not done with me yet.

Without thinking, I roll over to my side, facing Peter. My roll soon turns into a scoot as I curl alongside him, resting my head on his chest. He tenses up beneath me unsure of what he should do. Here I was pushing him away mere days ago and now I'm throwing myself on him.

But he doesn't reject me. He shuffles beneath me only to slide his arm under my neck. Holding me tightly against him, he kisses the top of my head. Is he aware of what he's doing or is this some half-asleep thing that he'll soon regret in the morning. Maybe he's done this with all the girls he's brought home.