Read The Unofficial Zack Warren Fan Club Online
Authors: J.C. Isabella
But I stayed.
Chloe dozed off again. Blasting sounds of machine gun fire from the game didn’t wake her. She only snuggled closer, resting her head on my shoulder as if she’d slept there a million times before.
I could never leave her.
Chapter 24
Chloe
A loud crash jolted me awake. I opened my eyes and pushed up on my elbows to glance around. I was in my room, still wearing my dress.
My nightlight was plugged into the wall.
I took a deep breath and told myself I was okay, silly to be afraid of the dark. I’m nineteen. I should be one with the night like any normal teenager, not hiding under my blankets or plugging in a nightlight.
And yes, I still check the closet.
Mostly for Kirk…and I tell myself that so I don’t feel like such a dork.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was one in the morning. Zack must have gone to bed.
But how did I get up here?
Did Zack put me to bed?
He did. He lifted me up off the couch and carried me too my room, then he tucked me under the covers and plugged in my nightlight.
It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.
I padded to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take care of business, and then I’d change out of my dress. But I didn’t go to the closet once I was finished. Out in the hall I heard Kirk growling.
I flipped on the light to see what excited him.
He wasn’t in the hall. I located him at the top of a short flight of stairs, pawing at the attic door. He barked. I opened the door and flipped on the light to see why he was so excited.
It was a rat.
A big. Fat. Rat.
Kirk barked, and chased the rodent out of the attic.
I slammed the door shut. The rat was now in the house, and I was safely closed in the attic.
Kirk’s muffled howling floated through the floor. Great, he was probably following the rat all over the house, knocking over anything in his path. He’d chased squirrels and birds, but he’d never actually managed to catch an animal.
The problem still remained that I was in here and the rodent was out there. Something had to be done to keep Kirk from sending rat guts all over the new furniture.
I decided to wake up Zack and ask him if he’d mind catching a rat.
What could be more entertaining?
I grabbed the doorknob.
It didn’t turn.
“Zack?” I called out, thinking he was playing a mean joke. “This isn’t funny.”
This was exactly the type of thing a boy would do, lock the stepsister he hated in an attic and try to scare the crap out of her.
Of course, he’d declared his un-hatred for me, kissed me, and carried me to bed.
So I was out of reason why he would do this exactly.
“Zack?” no answer. Come to think of it, he’d never played jokes on me before. Why would he start now?
I grasped the knob with two hands. Twisting, jerking, I wrenched it with every ounce of strength in me.
It was stuck.
“Stay calm.” I said, trying to slow my racing heart. It was an old house, and stuff broke all the time in old houses. It was so not haunted.
I heard footsteps outside in the hallway.
“Zack is that you?”
He barked.
“Kirk!”
He barked again.
“Go get Zack. Be a good bloodhound and sniff him out.” I leaned back against the door. “Ugh, why couldn’t you be Lassie?”
The minutes dragged on slowly. I closed my eyes wondering how long I would be stuck in the attic. The storm raged on, thunder rattled the widows, making the whole house vibrate. Kirk was still sniffing the door, and I heard him plop down on the other side of it.
He knew I was in trouble.
Unfortunately, he was the kind of dog that needed an incentive to help.
Lighting flashed and the house rattled some more.
The lights flickered.
Oh, no.
Panic clawed at my insides, I spun around and tried to kick the door.
Nothing happened.
There wasn’t a ghost. But the lights were threatening to go out. I’d be stuck in a dark attic, alone.
“Help!” I screamed with everything I had, not playing around.
“Chloe?” the sound of Zack’s sleepy voice was music to my ears.
“In the attic.”
He laughed. “Maybe I’ll let you hang there for a while.”
“It’s not funny.” I snapped. Maybe he was mean enough to lock me in here…nah. “Please! It’s locked, or stuck. I’m not sure.”
He shook the handle. “Is there a key?”
“No, not in here.” I rested my forehead against the door and groaned. “All I did was close the door. It was closed before I came in here. How come it won’t open now?”
“No clue.” He twisted the handle again. The knob moved, but it still wouldn’t open. “This looks old though, like it might be original to the house. Could be a mechanism broke…I don’t know.”
“So what should we do?”
“I was going to suggest removing the hinges. Do you see anything to help you do that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Next idea.”
“I guess I could kick it down.”
“You can’t kick down the door!”
“Sure I can.” He sounded so calm, as if door kicking was all in a days work.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe you. Flipping around in the street is one thing, but this is different.”
“I could make toothpicks out of it.”
“Then my mom would freak out.”
“Nah, it’ll be fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. At my instance, Zack took a screwdriver to the doorknob, and then tried to wedge something under it to pry it off. That only chipped the white paint.
“Never go into business as a handyman.” I mumbled from my position on the floor. I knew it was going to be a while, so I might as well get comfortable.
“My last option still stands.”
I laughed. “Right, go ahead, kick down the door.”
“Okay.”
“No!” I jumped to my feet.
“Then I guess you get to stay in there. I’ll be in bed, yell if you need me,” his voice sounded far away.
“You’re leaving me to rot in the attic?”
And then the lights went out, so I did what anyone else would do.
I screamed.
Screw looking like a weakling, no way in hell was he leaving me.
“Cool it Baker.” He shouted. “You squeal like a girl.”
“Earlier today you had your tongue shoved down my throat. I doubt you would have been so keen on kissing me if I had been anything but female!” I paced the room, resigning myself to the inevitable. He was going to taunt me, then leave me.
“Oh, so you want to talk about that?”
“No.”
“You could slip out a the window onto the roof.”
“Then what, get struck by lighting?”
“I was joking.”
“Har, har. How about a locksmith?” I closed my eyes, imagining myself in a sun-warmed field of daisies, bunnies hopping, birds chirping. The proverbial princess cartoon, no dark and no evil ghosts to spook me.
“Hang on.” His footsteps tromped back down the stairs. Anything was better than having Zack go Rambo on the door, if he could even do it. I didn’t need him breaking an arm or a leg. He’d blame me for the rest of our lives.
“They won’t come out in this weather.” He said, outside the door again.
“Oh, god.” I opened my eyes and it was still black.
“You okay?”
“No. Nope, definitely not.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s personal.”
He tried the door handle again, “I feel bad that you’re stuck in there, but I can’t sit out in the hallway all night.”
I cringed. “You would leave me in here?”
“What do you expect me to do, campout on the floor?”
Thunder shook the entire house, a streak of lighting illuminating the room. “Do it.”
“I don’t have a sleeping bag…but I guess I could drag a chair up here.”
“Kick in the freaking door!”
His chuckle floated through the wood, and I knew I was sunk. “You know, I figured out your secret, Baker.”
“Impossible.”
“You’re not scared of the dark, are you?”
“I’m not in the mood for this.”
“Hey, I’m just curious. I saw a nightlight in your room, plugged it in actually.”
“When I get out of here I’m going to hurt you.” I growled.
“If that’s that case, then I’ll pass on providing your rescue.”
“Fine, I am afraid of the dark. Happy? Do you get some sort of sick pleasure knowing I’m on the verge of tears? If you do, go back to bed. I want nothing to do with you.”
I heard the familiar crack of his knuckles and my mouth went dry.
“Get back, Chloe, way back.”
I found my way to the far side of the room and huddled in a corner, waiting to hear him howl in pain. That was one solid piece of wood.
“Zack?” It was so quiet, for a second I thought he’d left me.
Then the door slammed and rattled in its frame. Once, twice, and the third time it flew inward with a deafening crack.
A flashlight lit the room.
Zack strode in, smirking, chest puffed up. “I bet you thought I couldn’t do it.”
“Uh, yeah.” A little voice inside me screamed, my hero, and I let out a loud sigh, feeling week in the knees.
“Hey, you look funny.” He shined the light in my face.
I shrugged, squinting at the brightness, “I hate the dark.”
“Scared of the boogeyman?” he teased.
“No,” I pushed past him. “And it’s not funny.”
He cut me off and pulled me close for a hug. “I’m sorry.”
I rested my head against his chest. “Thanks.”
It was nice and warm, his arms making me feel so safe in the dark. He flicked off his flashlight to save the juice.
I didn’t flinch in the blackness and I knew I was in big trouble.
When I was little I went through the princess phase. I would sing to the squirrels in the backyard and wear sparkly dresses. I told my mom I wanted to be locked in a tower, have a talking broomstick and wait for prince charming to slay the evil dragon and burn down the poison banana tree. We didn’t have apple trees in south Florida.
Maybe being trapped in an attic somehow appeased the five year old in me.
Zack kicking down the door was the prince killing a dragon and setting fire to the tree.
Metaphorically, this seemed to be my best answer.
Logically, I think I’m crazy.
Chapter 25
“We have a problem.” I said, taking a deep breath to memorize the cool, clean scent clinging to Zack’s shirt.
“Another one?” His fingers drifted lazily up and down my spine, leaving tingles of pleasure.
“Yeah, Kirk found a rat. He chased the rat out…and I shut the door because I was scared.”
“Unintentionally locking yourself in the attic—smart Baker, real smart. Why didn’t you kill it?”
“I don’t kill innocent animals, even if I don’t like them.”
“Spiders, flies?”
“Bugs are the exception, yes. But I still feel guilty.”
He pulled me toward the door and lit our way with the flashlight. “If anyone asked me what I thought I’d be doing over the weekend, this wouldn’t be it.”
“What did you think it’d be?”
I felt him hesitate. “To be perfectly honest, I was thinking about going back to school.”