Prologue
The world spins at a thousand miles per hour with no way of slowing it down. We speed through every day thinking there will be a lifetime of seconds and minutes to enjoy. Of course, I knew that at some point this clock will stop ticking, my world will stop turning and I would have to face what happens next. But I’d calculated that if I followed the trend of my grandparents, I would see my 90th birthday which meant I still had 551800 hours left. I mean, I had no reason not to think that. I lived my life being the best person I could be. I always paid my taxes, gave up my seat on the bus to anyone older than me, and I religiously had dinner with my mother every Sunday. I lived the best life I could, I treated people well, and I didn’t have any enemies.
So, what did I do so horribly wrong to deserve the clock to stop ticking prematurely? Well, that was something I intended to find out.
Chapter One
The rain beat heavy against the windows, stirring me. I loved the sound of the rain more than anything else and with a deep contented sigh, I started the difficult task of prising my eyelids open. Stretching my arms above my head, I allowed my thoughts to drift over the day ahead, hoping that I hadn’t missed my alarm and overslept. Again. I hated Monday mornings, and I hated getting out of bed for it even more. But hang on? Was it Monday? I searched my memory for something I could grab hold of.
Hmmm. Last I remembered I was watching NCIS reruns. But that was shown on Tuesday nights. So, did that mean it was Wednesday?
What else could I think of to give me a clue? The salad I’d had for tea swam to the forefront of my mind and I shivered. My best friend Lilli was getting married in a few months and I’d promised her I’d be a bridesmaid and that had meant I needed to fit into the figure-hugging dress she’d picked. I had reminded her that winter in Dandelion Ponds wasn’t the time I wanted to go on any sort of diet. Nope. When rain turned to sleet, it was hard bypassing the Carbonara and eating the salad instead, but I’d kept telling myself food is just fuel so it didn’t matter.
A groan left my lips. The granola I’d purchased for breakfast in lieu of the warm oats was bland and meh. Did I really need to open my eyes and start the day? After all I still hadn’t even figured which day it was.
An unfamiliar buzzing trickled into my peripherals and as the sound of a running tap overtook the rain hitting the windows, I snapped my eyes open.
The glare of a bedside lamp seared through the pounding that had started around the back of my head and I flinched against it, willing the fogginess in my mind to clear.
In an adjoining room the banging of the water pipes alerted me to the fact that the tap had been turned off but did nothing to alleviate the anxiety that was pushing the fogginess aside.
Prising my eyelids wide, I checked my surroundings expecting to see the cozy familiarity of my bedroom, my dog Alfie snoring on the end of my bed. But instead masculine grey walls highlighted the low-lying bed in front of me, the sheets tangled. I sat up, once again searching the corners of my memory for where I was and how I got here, noting that I was lying on the oak floorboards, dust bunnies poking their heads out from under the dresser, taunting my sinuses.
Oh geez. Had Lilli taken me out for a night on the town and I’d drunk myself into a state, landing up in some stranger’s bedroom?
My heart missed a whole series of beats. Oh, no. Could that have happened? Surely, I couldn’t have done that! I was an engaged woman who loved her fiancé. I didn’t cheat at anything, let alone my relationship. I grasped at my clothing, noting my red Christmas flannelette pajamas, my feet tucked into my fluffy socks. Not exactly the outfit I’d choose to wear for a night on the town. And what was I doing lying on the floor? I took three deep breaths and released the anxiety that had caused my heart rate to trip. The logical side of my brain kicked in reminding me this was Dandelion Ponds. It was hardly a hive of night life, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even had a drop of alcohol.
Okay. Now, where was I and how did I get here?
I attempted to sit up, a weird feeling competing with the uneasiness. Thoughts swam as I struggled to get my bearings, the one memory I needed just out of my reach. I scrunched my eyes tight searching the darkness for that tangible thread that would allow me to piece everything together.
My head pounded harder and I swallowed down the urge to throw up, steadying myself against the wall. Chills mingled with the hollow feeling sitting in my stomach as the memory refused to show itself.
A nearby toilet flushed, the bedlinen started to rustle, and my heart missed a beat. A lump under the crisp white bedsheets lurched and I hurriedly scanned the room for the exit.
Could I make it to the door before whatever that was presented itself? I was sure there was a very good explanation for my current situation, but as my cheeks heated and I swallowed down the sudden thickness in my throat, survival instincts had me looking for a way out.
Unsteadily I pushed up onto my feet, my eyes darting between the bed, the door to the adjoining bathroom, and the exit. The room swayed as I stood and tiptoed across it, careful to avoid the jeans dumped on the floor as if their owner had just stepped out of them.
I skirted around the open duffle bag and the gym clothes spilling out of it, bypassed the laptop, and stepped over the squash racquet as the squeak of the adjoining room door echoed through the room.
The sound urged me forward, my goal of making it out of this bedroom before its owner caught me my number one priority. My hearing was on high alert and I calculated I had three steps to reach the exit before I was sprung when the distinctive sound of a dog yapping startled me.
And it was a yap I knew well.
Pulling up short of the door, I momentarily froze.
“Alfie!” I spun on the balls of my feet, wondering what on earth was going on. “Is that you boy?”
The lump under the sheets jumped one last time and the happy face of my chihuahua shone back at me, his eyes bright, and his tongue hanging as he leaped from the mattress.
He scooted towards me, and I leaned down ready to scoop him in my arms but stopped when the bathroom door flung open and the semi naked torso of a stranger filled the frame.
“Alfie,” he called. “What’s the matter, boy?”
I froze, shrinking into the shadows as I held my breath.
Alfie ignored the man and remained at my side, his little black tail wagging at a thousand miles an hour. I would have liked to have ignored the man too, but that was difficult considering he was crossing the room closing the gap between us, his towel tied low on his hips, and the slight sheen of a fresh shower still damp on his skin.
Whoa!
Any second he was going to see me staring, my mouth gaping.
“Alfie, what are you doing?” the man asked again, kicking the jeans aside as he moved closer.
I licked my lips in an attempt to put some moisture back where it belonged and stepped forward.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, my breathing rushed. “He was barking at me. I must have startled him.”
Butterflies stirred as I waited for his response, but instead he bent and scooped Alfie up in his arms, ruffling the short black hair behind his ears.
“I thought you’d made yourself comfortable in my bed?” he asked him.
Alfie licked his chin, then wriggled to be put down.
As the man appeased him, Alfie darted back to me, and once again started the yapping routine, only this time he’d thrown in a few tail chases, a habit he had when he got over excited.
I smiled. This man had the body of a God, but Alfie still loved me the most.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, my eyes moving to meet the man’s, wishing beyond anything I could remember his name.
A water droplet fell from his wet hair and dripped onto his shoulder. My gaze followed its path across his golden skin and toned pecs, and as it ended its trail in his belly button my mouth dried completely. I gave a silent curse at whatever had stolen my memory.
His deep smoke colored eyes moved to meet mine before narrowing, a bevy of adorable crinkles wrinkling his forehead then disappearing under his golden blonde hairline.
My breath caught as he shook his head and turned and walked away.
Well that was rude.
“Excuse me!” I called, stomping after him. I may not remember his name, but it was a whole different story to be ignored when I was so obviously standing in his bedroom. “Excuse me! Can you tell me what I’m doing here?”
The man simultaneously ignored both me and Alfie’s yapping, and gently pushed the bathroom door with his foot. As it swung closed, I huffed.
“You’re truly the most arrogant man I’ve ever met!” I yelled at the timber door. “You could at least have the courtesy to speak to me.”
The door swung open and he scanned the room from side to side as he held the white painted frame, his brow no less furrowed than a moment before. Alfie jumped up at his leg and the towel slipped.
On instinct I spun away from him, squeezing my eyes tight.
The traitorous butterflies in my belly swooped as his deep laugh caused them to scatter, their wings playing havoc on my insides.
“What are you doing Alfie?” he asked.
Yeah, what were you doing Alfie?
The boy in question responded with multiple yaps, grabbing the towel and dropping it at my feet.
I squealed and covered my eyes.
A deep sigh sounded near my ear. “Is this one of your quirks I need to get used to?” the man asked.
Separating my fingers just a little bit, I couldn’t resist the urge to peek as he bent to retrieve the towel.
“You don’t need to get used to anything.” I scowled, despite the tingle that washed over me. “I’m taking him home and you will never see either of us again.”
I waited for a response, but instead the man chuckled, patted Alfie on the head and made his way across the room and out of the door as he tucked his towel back around him.
Anger rumbled through me as the voice in the back of my pounding skull mentioned something about the glorious naked backside that was now disappearing along a hallway, but I ignored it and reached for my dog.
“How did we end up here with him, Alfie?”
He at least was happy to see me and never once would he treat me like I wasn’t even there.
“Come on boy. Let’s go home.”
Alfie spun ready to be picked up but as I reached to touch him, my hands grasped at thin air.
Well, that was weird. “I swear I’m never touching alcohol again. Even though I don’t drink, so I have no idea what tempted me this time.” I sucked in a large breath as a thought hit me. “Do you think I was drugged? Was my soda spiked? That would explain why my mind is now playing tricks on me.” But hang on. I don’t think I was at the bar last night. And I definitely wouldn’t have taken any drugs on my own accord.
Shaking myself off, I once again reached for Alfie, this time slowing my movements.
But the same thing happened.
Maybe this was a dream? I’d had dreams before that couldn’t be explained, but nothing as weird as this.
Alfie turned to me, his tongue lolling to one side, his eyes not quite as bright as they were a moment before. He wasn’t like most dogs. He could feel your emotions, he looked at you like he could read your thoughts, and he was more intelligent than my mother (actually that wasn’t hard, but we’ll get to that later).
Right now, the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach reflected in his eyes.
“Can you yap louder so that I’ll wake up, please?” A strangeness enveloped me and I sat back on my haunches, swallowing the nausea. My ears buzzed as lightheadedness descended on me. This had to be a bad dream. One of those awful nightmares that ravaged your sleep, leaving you scared and alone panting for the light of day.
My back hit the wall, my attention shifting as I noted it wasn’t the cold hard surface that stopped me, but an invisible force that cushioned the blow.
What? That’s not right.
Shifting my gaze to the floor I realized that instead of feeling the oak boards beneath my feet, I felt a cushion of air.
A buzzing echoed through my skull, my throat closed, and my fingers tingled as a panic attack started.
I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. I wanted to feel Alfie’s soft fur between my fingers and have that man acknowledge that I was there.
As the panic attack took its full hold, I screamed. Alfie laid down at my feet and dropped his head onto my foot, ready to give me comfort, but instead of feeling his heat, his jaw hit the floor with a clunk and my panic kicked up a notch.
I stood and ran around the room, trying to grab something to prove that I could hold onto it, but the more I tried the more I failed and the more I screamed.
I ran to the bedroom door hoping to get out of the house and into the rain that was still pelting the roof, wanting the cold water to wake me. But as I reached for the door handle it felt beyond my reach. The more I grasped for it, the further away it felt.
“Help me!” I screamed. “Please help me!”
Alfie whimpered as my tears started to fall. What was happening? Why couldn’t I wake up?
Dropping to the floor, I curled my knees to my chest and desperately tried to control my thoughts.
Alfie wasn’t deterred though. He ran to a box of his toys that sat next to the bed and pulled out his favorite fluffy elephant. Giving it a hearty shake, he pranced next to me and dropped it at my feet.
I sniffed, wanting to kick it away, but already I knew that was futile.
Alfie laid on his belly and yapped. It was a game that he loved with our old dog Bindi. After she had passed away, he continued to drop the toy next to her favorite spot and sat patiently waiting for her to join the game. He could see her, of that I was sure. He knew when she came to visit and consistently dropped the elephant for her to join the fun.
My eyes fell to the toy as that memory danced to the forefront of my mind. Alfie could see dead people, and right now the only conclusion I could come up with, I was dead.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
