Midnight Lily (Signs of Love) Read Free Page A

half-formed thoughts. Movement. Something white. I froze, squinting into the dwindling light, a streak of excited fear shooting down my spine, somewhat muted by the chemicals but still there. For several beats all was still, the only sound the sizzling meat and a few distant bird cries. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Something's about to happen , my mind whispered. Strange thought, but the feeling accompanying it was familiar and the memory came back to me now.
    It had been my senior year in college, and the final game of the season was about to start. There were scouts in the bleachers, at least two or three. I'd forgotten something in the locker room and had run back to grab it. Or had I been in the stands? Why would I have been in the stands? No, no, that wasn't right. Damn my memory. I really shouldn't have mixed alcohol and pills. Anyway, senior year . . . on my way out of the locker room—yes, it had been the locker room, yes, that was right—I had paused at the door, a feeling washing through me: something's about to happen. The same feeling I'd just had now. I'd been a warrior on the field that day, and three months later, I'd been drafted by San Francisco in the first round and signed one of the most lucrative contracts in the NFL.
    My heart picked up in speed and adrenaline surged through my veins, now, just as it had then. Something's about to happen. Swallowing, I turned around and walked as casually as possible to the other railing and leaned against it, the forest where I'd seen movement now at my back. I took my phone out of my pocket and held it up to take a selfie. My muscles tensed. I waited. Movement again, this time in the screen of my phone. I clicked the button and took a photo. Turning around to the grill, I flipped the steak and opened the picture. A portion of my face blocked part of the background, but I’d taken a good shot of the trees behind me. And there it was—the movement I'd spotted. "Yes," I mumbled feeling a surge of success, widening my fingers on the screen to zoom in. I brought the phone closer to my face.
    "Holy shit," I breathed. Whatever it was, I'd barely caught it with my camera—but it was something . I zoomed in more, but couldn't make out exactly what it was as it was too blurry. Perhaps a piece of white material? Dark hair? But I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't seeing things. And whatever had been there, it had waited until I’d turned my back to dart between trees. Were animals that intelligent? "What the hell?" I murmured, raising my head and looking around again, a chill moving through me. "What the hell?" I repeated.
    I debated calling Brandon. Or maybe calling the police? But to report what? That I'd possibly seen a ghost? I laughed out loud. That'd go over well, especially considering I was clearly under the influence. Somehow it would get leaked. I'd be even more of a laughing stock than I already was, and sooner rather than later, there would be paparazzi hanging in the trees. Of course I did have the picture, but the photo was too unclear to be called any kind of proof. It would be explained away somehow, and I'd end up looking like a fool. Maybe I shouldn't trust myself too much anyway in the condition I was in.
    I ate my dinner, sitting outside on the deck, my eyes trained on the woods, but I didn't catch sight of anything again that night. Finally, I stumbled inside, my phone clutched to my chest while I dozed on the couch as if the picture might cease to exist once I closed my eyes.
     
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    Stripping off my clothes, I climbed into the hot, bubbling water of the outside Jacuzzi, sighing as my muscles relaxed. It'd been four days since I'd arrived here and I was bored as hell. The bottle of Scotch was gone and I only had enough pills to last another week or so. I would be forced to go cold turkey. What the fuck had I been thinking, agreeing to this? I'd have to take Brandon's Jeep and drive to the airport he'd mentioned and catch a flight.