Once I heard his footsteps reach the door, they fell silent. There wasn’t a peephole in either front door, so he peered at me through one of the beveled glass sidelights on either side of the immense entry doors. He immediately opened the door once he recognized me.
“Pey—” he started as he turned on the light in the entry and blinked a few times, obviously trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness. I was so overwhelmed with happiness and relief, I rushed him before he could finish saying my name. In response, he threw one arm around me while using the other to hold both of his enormous dogs back so they wouldn’t attack me. “No!” he yelled as the larger of the two dogs persisted in growling and barking at me. “It’s okay, Stella, go to bed!”
But Stella didn’t look completely convinced that everything was okay. She glared at me with rather large, droopy eyes and continued to bare her impressive set of very sharp teeth. “Go to your bed!” Ryan ordered again, closing the front door behind us. This time, both of the dogs obeyed and disappeared down the hallway.
Once the dogs were no longer a concern, Ryan turned toward me and opened his arms, apparently seeing how badly I needed a Ryan Kelly hug more than anything else at the moment. Just the sight of him completely overwhelmed me with feelings of relief and safety. Before I knew it, tears rolled down my cheeks as I lost control of myself and began to sob. I threw myself against him and he wrapped his big arms around me, nestling me into him as he petted my hair and kissed the top of my head.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a soft voice. I couldn’t answer because I was crying uncontrollably. “Peyton, tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated, his tone of voice more serious. “Did someone hurt you?” He pushed me away from him and appeared to inspect my bloodied T-shirt, as if seeking clues as to what happened.
I gulped, feeling the sting in my throat all over again as I forced myself to look up at him. I tried to catch my breath at the same time that I attempted to hold off my unending tears.
“Just take a breath,” Ryan consoled me. “Take your time.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, breathing in deeply as I tried to regain control of myself. When the tears finally subsided, I opened my eyes and faced him. “Something attacked me in my bed…and…and then s-someone left an…an ax outside my back door,” I managed at last, wiping my runny nose against my other arm.
Ryan shook his head as if he wasn’t following. “Something attacked you?”
I nodded and could feel my eyes going wide at the memory. “It was the entity in my house, Ryan, I know it was.”
“A spirit attacked you?” he repeated, frowning at me.
“I know it sounds crazy!” I said as my voice started to shake. “But I was asleep and then I suddenly couldn’t breathe. It was like something was choking me!” I took a deep breath, feeling the burn in my throat. “I couldn’t move, Ryan; it was like I was paralyzed. And it was deathly cold in the room.”
Ryan just nodded but his lips were tight and I couldn’t read his expression. “And you’re sure there wasn’t anyone in the room with you? No one could have broken in?”
I immediately shook my head. “I was by myself.”
He took a deep breath and cocked his head to the side. I could see his battle over whether or not to accept my explanation as the truth raging behind his eyes. I knew it sounded completely absurd but it was the truth.
“And the ax?” he prodded in a soft voice.
I shook my head. “I don’t know how it got there but it was there…right on my back stairs as soon as I opened the door.”
He didn’t respond right away and seemed to be absorbing the information, trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t understand, Peyton,” he said at last, his voice and his eyes revealing his concern and his confusion. “I don’t understand how a spirit could attack you, but leavin’ that question aside for the moment, why would someone leave an ax outside your door?”
“As a warning, I think,” I said. I shook my head again because I wasn’t convinced that was the reason why.
“Tell me what happened from the very beginnin’,” Ryan continued as he draped his arm around me and shuffled me into the living room. “You’re freezin’,” he added before squeezing me a little more tightly.
Leaning into him, I allowed him to lead me to a plush, oversize brown leather couch. He sat me down and reached for a brown-and-blue blanket, which he draped over my shoulders after he sat beside me. Then he pulled me into the warmth of his arms and held me while I tried to get my thoughts together.
“Peyton, tell me what happened,” he repeated.
I exhaled and then told him exactly what had happened, minus the part about Drake because I wasn’t sure if I was even coherent at that point. I had to imagine that no oxygen to my brain for at least a few seconds could have caused me to hallucinate. Instead, I focused on the part about the ax because I figured that was the most concrete. “I heard a sound coming from the back door in the kitchen,” I started. “It was like this weird scratching sound, so I got up to find out what it was.” Just remembering the instance sent another wave of fear ricocheting through me. “I thought it was an animal or something…maybe a raccoon trying to get in.”
“Okay,” he said, prompting me to get to the point.
“So when I opened the back door, I saw the ax.”
“It wasn’t there before?” Ryan asked. He further explained himself once he saw the befuddled expression on my face. “I mean, it wasn’t an ax that you kept around the house for choppin’ firewood or somethin’?”
I didn’t bother admitting that I’d never chopped firewood in my life and probably never would. Instead, I just shook my head. More tears started in my eyes so I dried them off on my arm. Ryan’s gaze followed my arm to my hand.
“You’re hurt,” he said, gripping my wrist and turning my hand around to inspect it. Then his eyes moved up the line of my hand to my arm to my shoulder and then to my neck. By the fact that he gulped and then brought his fingers to my neck, I had to imagine I had a bruise or something from my run-in with the entity.
“Who did this to you, Peyton?” he asked immediately, his eyes suddenly turning hard and angry. His lips were as tight as his jaw. It was the first time I’d ever seen Ryan angry, and I pitied anyone who was on the receiving end of such hostility. If I didn’t think Ryan was fiercely protective of those he cared about before, it certainly dawned on me now.
I shook my head when I realized where his line of thinking was going. “I can’t tell you who or what is responsible for whatever’s on my neck,” I started. “But, as to my hand, I cut myself on the gate while I was trying to get away. The latch was busted and the wood splintered and sliced my hand.”
“Come on,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to help me from the couch. I didn’t argue but allowed myself to be led from the living room to a bathroom just down the hallway. “I have to admit I’m havin’ a very difficult time imaginin’ a spirit is responsible for your injuries,” he said after a protracted silence.
“I’m not lying to you, Ryan.”
He nodded immediately. “I’m not inferrin’ that you are. It’s just difficult for me to wrap my mind around the idea that something ethereal could have actually attacked you.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in spirits and the like but I’ve never heard of one actually makin’ physical contact with someone.”
“I have no other explanations for you,” I said and then sighed.