A Killer Retreat Read Online Free PDF

eyes. In a voice normally used by sleep-starved mothers of tantruming toddlers, I yelled at my poor, panicked dog. “Calm down. Now !”
    Bella reacted the way any intelligent being would in her circumstances: trapped in a strange house, surrounded by monsters, and held down by a madwoman. She lashed out like a mental patient resisting a straightjacket. She squirmed, she bucked, she roared, she clawed. I rode Bella like a bucking bronco. Or she rode me. It was difficult to keep track of who was on top in the midst of the chaos.
    â€œMichael, help me! I’ve never seen her like this.”
    Michael stood next to the bed, looking helpless. “I guess you were right. We should have brought her crate.”
    For a moment, time stood still. My mouth gaped open. My head pounded, about to explode. Of course I was right . Ever since her prior owner’s death, Bella’s crate was the only place she always felt safe. But in what universe was it useful to tell me that now?
    I should have taken some deep breaths. I should have counted t o ten. I wasn’t even mad at Michael; I was furious with myself. Bella was my dog—my responsibility. I knew the abuse she had suffered. I knew she still panicked when stressed. I knew she needed—and deserved—special care. Leaving the crate behind may have been Michael’s idea, but I was the idiot who went along with it.
    Adrenaline-laced panic overpowered me. Thoughtless words spewed from my mouth like spit from a cobra. “If she gets hurt, it’s your fault.”
    Michael flinched, as if slapped.
    Thunder roared through the room again.
    Bella wiggled free from my grasp and bolted for the bed. She clawed at the space behind it and ripped her nails against the metal frame. I imagined blood pouring from her soon-to-be-dislocated toes.
    Michael finally took action. He grabbed the bottom of the frame a nd yanked it away from the wall, leaving behind four long, jagged scratches on the hardwood floor. Bella scrambled behind the bed and buried herself—nose to shoulders—underneath the frame. The rest of her body remained crammed into the two-foot space Michael had created behind the mattress.
    Bella stopped whining. Her breathing slowed. Her muscles relaxed. The energy surrounding her softened. Lightning still lit up the sky, but in Bella’s mind, her world was safe. I wasn’t sure burying her head like an ostrich was the most effective survival strategy, but for now, it would do.
    My own energy eased as well. I crawled back into bed, rested my head in the crook of my elbow, and stared at Michael’s rigid back.
    â€œI’m sorry for yelling at you, sweetie. I didn’t mean it; I was just scared. Bella and I are lucky to have you.”
    Michael didn’t answer, but he didn’t ignore me, either. He rolled on his back and nuzzled my neck. Hours ticked by. I stared at the ceiling, listening to Bella’s soft breathing, Michael’s not-so-soft snoring, and the deluge of rain still bombarding the roof. At least a century passed before I fell back to sleep.

three
    I awoke the next morning to silence. No rain on the rooftop, no purr-like puppy breathing, no soft boyfriend snores. I glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock. The perfect time to snuggle against Michael’s warm, rippled chest. I rolled over and reached out my arms, planning to cuddle up to my favorite six-foot-tall bed warmer.
    My hands connected with nothing.
    No one occupied the space beside me. No one longed for my loving embrace. No one even gave me the cold shoulder in retribution for my prior night’s temper tantrum. All that lay beside me were cold, empty bed sheets.
    No problem, a fur-covered she-dog would do quite nicely. “Bella , up,” I said, patting the bed. No response. I sat up and scanned the room, but found no snoozing shepherds. I peeked in the two-foot-wide storm shelter Michael had created behind the bed. No creatures there