Play The Part (Player Next Door Book 3)

78 | Hope

Is this a chapter of hope? Or are we hoping for the hope that is hopefully going to come? 

I don't know. It's tense in here. 

⭐ Please vote ⭐  

Chapter 78: Hope

All I could breathe is hope.

Hope that my friends were safe inside and hope that we would emerge from this, whole.

Sooner or later, this will be over.

Just bite the bullet.

But don't think about bullets.

So far, they didn't have weapons that I saw.

We were the ones defending ourselves with kitchen knives and shower heads.

I rustled around in the bushes, trying to be stealthy. I felt the heat of the sun on my back as it started to lower over the lake. The afternoon was getting tired, and evening was coming soon.

The jake house stood as it always did, tall and majestic, with its giant wall of glass windows. The glass doors were wide open, just as it had been when I left, and I couldn't see or hear any movement inside.

It was eerily calm.

I wondered if this was the first time the beautiful house has become so dangerous.

When I poked my head up, I could see my own reflection in the mirror of the glass, peeping up over the bushes with a golf bag on my back and a giant lake behind me.

This golf bag makes me a target.

It's a giant, massive black target. One press of a pinkie finger and I would topple over.

I decided to leave the bag in the bushes and keep the one golf club that was already in my hand.

The sword of Sauron.

I'll be much more nimble this way. I kept low as I crept out of the bushes, trying not to trip over the fact that these spiky twigs kept tugging at my socks and meddling with my shoelaces.

I kept the golf club low but holding it like a baseball bat.

Channel Luke Dawson.

Still no movement in the house.

Is it odd they didn't come back for me?

The she-wolf left me in the shed.

Maybe they left?

Wrong house?

That's unlikely, since we're in the middle of nowhere. I reached the side of the house and pressed my back against the cool, textured stone.

I looked left through the glass and into the quiet house.

I inhaled deeply like it was the last time I was able to get fresh air, and entered into the house one more time.

Silence.

The living room area had pillows on the floor and decoration toppled over. A fight had clearly taken place here.

I stepped near Oma's knife, discarded on the ground.

My eyes darted around, looking for any sign of movement. My ears listening for any sound of movement.

I walked back towards the side table, where the wholesome photo of Luke and Charlotte out in a canoe on the lake lay shattered on the ground. I stared down at it, careful not to step on the fractures of glass over and around it.