Read Online Just a Little Reminder by Tracie Puckett - Free Book Online Page A

stairs.
    Mom….
    Dad….
    Matt and Charlie….
    Derek….
    Kara….
    Lonnie and Grace….
    Bruno….
    Luke….
    All dead.
    A deep laugh resounded through the room, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
    Conan.
    I turned on the steps and looked up to the second floor landing, and Conan Milton stood with a smirk on his lips and his head tilted playfully to one side.
    “Julie Little,” he said, and he licked his bottom lip slowly. “Just like your mother… beautiful and stupid.”
     
    Thursday, June 06 | 2:03 a.m.
    I gasped for breath.
    I sat straight up and held my chest, feeling the strong beat of my heart as it pounded like a drum.
    I looked at the clock on the nightstand—2:03, right on time.
    I swallowed hard and swung my legs around the side of the bed. My feet landed on the cold floor, and I stood up slowly to keep from losing my balance. Walking to the bathroom, I kept my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.
    It was just a dream.
    After I’d rinsed my face with cold water and patted it dry, I caught my reflection in the mirror and let my stare linger. My blue eyes had faded to gray beneath the bruises, and small wrinkles bracketed my tight lips.
    No longer able to look at myself, I turned back to leave the bathroom, and my gaze fell upon the second door once again.
    You know where to find me if you need anything.
    I reached for the knob and let my forehead fall forward on the door.
    I needed him, I did.
    I needed his love, his comfort, his assurance.
    But if I knew Luke—and I was pretty certain I did—he’d only be angry if I woke him up two hours before his alarm was set to go off.
    I convinced myself that all I needed was a glimpse, just a tiny glance at his face to give me a little bit of reassurance. I cracked the door, and the bathroom light flooded into his dark bedroom.
    I couldn’t see much, just the light as it shined on the bottom of his large bed.
    I opened the door a little further and slithered through the small opening, careful not to make any noise or let too much light in. I closed the door quietly behind me, shutting out the light once and for all. I extended my hands forward and felt around as I walked in the direction of his bed.
    When I finally reached the mattress, I lifted my knee and climbed up. I sensed his body nearby, though I couldn’t see it. I could hear him breathing, slow and steady. I could smell him, familiar and comforting.
    I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there; and that was all that mattered.
    I climbed under the blankets and dropped my head against the empty pillow on the left side of the bed. As much as I wanted to reach forward, touch him, and let him know I was there, I didn’t. I simply stayed still, staring in his direction until my eyes felt heavy.
    And then I fell asleep again.
    But before I knew it, the sound of Luke’s alarm had my eyes snapping open. The sound wasn’t anything smooth or melodic like I normally preferred. Instead, Luke’s alarm was a series of shrill, monotonous beeps. And in a way, I wasn’t surprised.
    How very Luke of him.
    His body moved next to mine as he reached toward the opposite bedside table and killed the alarm.
    He fell back against to the bed and took a deep breath as he stretched his arms. His hand brushed across the top of my head, and I waited for him to jump, yell, or even punch me, but all I heard was a light snicker.
    He didn’t say a word; he simply turned to his side, and I imagined he stared in my direction. But I still couldn’t see him.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered, letting him know I was awake. “I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”
    Luke didn’t move; he didn’t scoot forward, take my hand, or even offer a reassuring hug. He let out another slow breath, and I reached forward to find his hand. When my fingers brushed against his, he gripped them tightly.
    I tried to smile even though I knew he couldn’t see me. I didn’t want him to hear the sadness in my voice. I didn’t