Come Back To Me Read Free

past him, hurrying after Karen, but he’d blocked the doorway. He’d grabbed for her, pressing his hips against hers, shoving his hands under her shirt. Cara had stood frozen in place, unable to utter a single word. She’d been terrified Karen might hear. Or worse, Mrs. Walker might hear. That time he had held her jaw with his hand so she couldn’t turn her head away. He’d tasted like stale tobacco.
    Just the memory made Cara gag.
    Now he’d come into her own home when she was all alone. She had to figure out what to do before he came upstairs. The door to her bedroom was open. She didn’t dare shut it now. He would know for sure she was home. With a quick motion, Cara smoothed the quilt on her bed. Her closet door sat ajar. Cara gauged the opening. She was just thin enough to slip through without touching anything. If she crawled on the floor she wouldn’t disturb the hanging clothes.
    Cara slipped past the door, going down onto her knees and then onto her belly, sliding carefully along the hardwood floor towards the back of the closet.
    The closet was the reason Cara had chosen this bedroom when they’d moved in. The roof angled down at the far end. It was so low that anyone taller than four feet couldn’t stand upright. Her father had installed shelving for her books and shoes and he’d left a space behind the shelves that was just large enough for one child to sit and play.
    Trying hard to ignore the approaching footsteps, she climbed over the shelves. If she thought about Mr. Walker and what he might do, she’d make some kind of noise. Cara dare not give herself away. The closet was dark and she was hidden by hanging clothes, shoeboxes and books. There was enough room for her to lay down flat on her stomach below the sloping roof. If Mr. Walker wanted to find her, he’d have to crawl into her closet on his hands and knees, and then reach over the shelves and feel for her. As far as Cara could tell, if she stayed right where she was, she would be invisible.
    Cara heard the door to her room creak open.
    “Hey, anybody home?”
    Cara pressed her chest against the floor, biting her lip to keep from making a sound.
    “Cara?”
    It seemed to Cara he was standing right in front of the closet. Feeling air move over her bare legs, Cara knew he’d opened the closet door. She squeezed her eyelids shut, terrified of what Mr. Walker would do if he found her.
    “Cara?”
    She was suddenly very grateful her father had never remembered to install a light in her closet. She breathed through her mouth, making an effort to keep each breath shallow and quiet, just like she did whenever her mother was in one of her moods.
    She could hear him shuffling her hanging clothes around, but even if he took them all out, he wouldn’t see her way in the back. Besides, she knew he wouldn’t take her clothes out. If he did, her mom might ask her questions and Mr. Walker wanted to keep everything a secret. He wouldn’t want her to have to answer questions. When the clothes stopped moving, Cara blew out a long, slow exhale.
    She listened for a long time. She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Walker had left the house. For all she knew, he could be sitting on her bed. She wondered how longer it would be before her parents got home. They’d been gone more than an hour. She imagined they’d go to lunch before shopping, so the soonest she could expect them back would be suppertime. Unless Mr. Walker got tired of waiting and went home she’d be stuck on the floor in the back of her closet for a long time.
    Cara’s mind darted back and forth, her imagination working overtime. Was he sitting on her bed? Standing in the hallway? Waiting for her in the kitchen? Maybe he’d walked back across the yard, through his own gate and into his own home. Short of leaving the closet she had no way of knowing anything. How long could she stay there? Not moving? Barely breathing? She already needed to use the bathroom, and her muscles