conversation. A few hours ago, theyâd gotten intimate too fast. Now they were both backing off.
He wasnât sure how to get comfortable with her. She was obviously having similar thoughts, because she didnât offer any other topics of conversation, so they ended up eating most of the meal in silence.
After sheâd eaten about half of her soup, ribs and salad, she got up and went into the bedroom, leaving him to clean up the trash, then open up the sleep sofa.
It wasnât the most comfortable bed heâd ever lain on, and it didnât make it any easier to sleep when he kept thinking about the woman in the next room.
Â
J AMIE TOOK A SHOWER , then pulled on a long T-shirt over her panties and climbed into bed. There was another television in the bedroom, and she turned it on, flipping through the channels to find the local news. It was the same information sheâd heard before. Nothing new. Yet she couldnât shake the conviction that there was something about to happen. Something she wasnât going to like.
Another dream?
She shuddered. She didnât want to dream about Lynn Vaughn again. And why should she? Lynn was dead.
Still, to keep herself awake, she kept pressing the buttons on the remote, finally finding an old movie that sheâd seen before, but it was something to keep her mind off the man in the next room and the growing unrest that was making her chest tighten. She kept the television on past midnight, then worried she was going to keep Mack awake. When she finally flipped off the set, she was wrung out.
When she slid down under the covers, sleep claimed her easily. For a little while, she was at peace. Then the dream that had been hovering at the edge of her consciousness since sheâd climbed into bed grabbed her by the throat and made her gasp.
She was back in the funhouse, running down a dark corridor, the breath sawing in and out of her lungs as she tried to get away from the man who had brought her here.
Heâd drugged her and left her in a cell. She remembered that part. Then heâd told her to wake up and play the gameheâd planned for the two of them. Heâd said it was going to be fun. Sheâd known from the tone of his voice that he was lying.
It was deadly serious. For both of them.
He was behind her again, letting her get far enough away for her to hope that she could escape. Then heâd catch up with her the way he had before.
For Jamie, it was a replay of the previous trip through the funhouse. Only this time, it wasnât Lynn Vaughn. She was sharing another womanâs thoughts and panic gripped her when she realized she had no idea who the woman was.
That had never happened to her before. When sheâd had dreams before, they were always about a person she knew, a friend or someone from school. But even as she struggled to figure out who it was, she could detect no sense of familiarity. She didnât know this woman. Yet something tied them together, something she didnât want to examine too closely.
She longed to wake herself up, to escape from the funhouse and the man behind her, but deep in her heart she knew that would be taking the cowardâs way out. She must find out what was happening and who the man was.
That sense of purpose kept her tangled in the dream, kept her running for her life down a narrow corridor in the same house where sheâd been the night before.
She had seen some of these traps in her previous visit, only there were new variations. The night before a witch had come flying down from the ceiling on a broomstick, screaming as she went. Tonight it was a green-faced monster.
Other elements were completely new. The woman came to a place where the corridor opened into a small room. She stopped short, trying to decide what to do next. There werethree exits, and when she stepped toward one, a sizzling sensation zapped her nerve endings, making her scream. She jumped back, bumping into
He wasnât sure how to get comfortable with her. She was obviously having similar thoughts, because she didnât offer any other topics of conversation, so they ended up eating most of the meal in silence.
After sheâd eaten about half of her soup, ribs and salad, she got up and went into the bedroom, leaving him to clean up the trash, then open up the sleep sofa.
It wasnât the most comfortable bed heâd ever lain on, and it didnât make it any easier to sleep when he kept thinking about the woman in the next room.
Â
J AMIE TOOK A SHOWER , then pulled on a long T-shirt over her panties and climbed into bed. There was another television in the bedroom, and she turned it on, flipping through the channels to find the local news. It was the same information sheâd heard before. Nothing new. Yet she couldnât shake the conviction that there was something about to happen. Something she wasnât going to like.
Another dream?
She shuddered. She didnât want to dream about Lynn Vaughn again. And why should she? Lynn was dead.
Still, to keep herself awake, she kept pressing the buttons on the remote, finally finding an old movie that sheâd seen before, but it was something to keep her mind off the man in the next room and the growing unrest that was making her chest tighten. She kept the television on past midnight, then worried she was going to keep Mack awake. When she finally flipped off the set, she was wrung out.
When she slid down under the covers, sleep claimed her easily. For a little while, she was at peace. Then the dream that had been hovering at the edge of her consciousness since sheâd climbed into bed grabbed her by the throat and made her gasp.
She was back in the funhouse, running down a dark corridor, the breath sawing in and out of her lungs as she tried to get away from the man who had brought her here.
Heâd drugged her and left her in a cell. She remembered that part. Then heâd told her to wake up and play the gameheâd planned for the two of them. Heâd said it was going to be fun. Sheâd known from the tone of his voice that he was lying.
It was deadly serious. For both of them.
He was behind her again, letting her get far enough away for her to hope that she could escape. Then heâd catch up with her the way he had before.
For Jamie, it was a replay of the previous trip through the funhouse. Only this time, it wasnât Lynn Vaughn. She was sharing another womanâs thoughts and panic gripped her when she realized she had no idea who the woman was.
That had never happened to her before. When sheâd had dreams before, they were always about a person she knew, a friend or someone from school. But even as she struggled to figure out who it was, she could detect no sense of familiarity. She didnât know this woman. Yet something tied them together, something she didnât want to examine too closely.
She longed to wake herself up, to escape from the funhouse and the man behind her, but deep in her heart she knew that would be taking the cowardâs way out. She must find out what was happening and who the man was.
That sense of purpose kept her tangled in the dream, kept her running for her life down a narrow corridor in the same house where sheâd been the night before.
She had seen some of these traps in her previous visit, only there were new variations. The night before a witch had come flying down from the ceiling on a broomstick, screaming as she went. Tonight it was a green-faced monster.
Other elements were completely new. The woman came to a place where the corridor opened into a small room. She stopped short, trying to decide what to do next. There werethree exits, and when she stepped toward one, a sizzling sensation zapped her nerve endings, making her scream. She jumped back, bumping into
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