Rainstorm

Rain thought it would be a real struggle to stay awake that night, given how early she’d awoken that morning, yet her fears easily kept her wide awake. She thanked God her husband was out cold by 10:30, or else he would certainly wonder why she was going down to the basement so late at night. How many times could she say she wanted to look for a lost sock in the dryer? But did the crazy woman know this? Did she know what time her husband went to bed? Did she know he got up just after 7:00, which was when she said she would leave? Rain lay on her back, staring into the darkness. She hoped and prayed that when she went down into the basement, no one would be there—that she would find this had simply been nothing but a sick, twisted joke. Please, please let this woman have changed her mind for fear of getting caught. Or please, please let her get arrested for something else if that’s not the case. Or maybe someone could do her a huge favor and run the sick twist over in the street. Rain kept glancing at the clock. In fact, she had probably spent more time glancing at the clocks throughout the house than she had in the last year alone. Her heart beat harder as midnight approached. She listened intently for any strange sounds, yet heard nothing but the wind outside and the soft rhythmic breathing of her husband beside her. She suddenly felt as sad as she did frightened. She thought of who she might turn to but knew that might be just as risky as turning to Troy would be. She had a straight female friend and a gay male friend in town, but most of their friends and family lived in other states. Then again, most of her family didn’t exist. They weren’t on speaking terms with Troy’s family at the moment, and most of her family was dead. All that was left were a few distant relatives she rarely spoke to. Troy’s family hadn’t been abusive toward him, but they sure had been selfish. Money was borrowed that was never returned. Time was taken that could never be replaced. Promises were made that were never kept. Finally, they’d had enough of being used and taken advantage of, and of knowing that whenever they needed a helping hand, there was always some piss-poor excuse on their part as to why they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—help them. She thought back to the day they had moved into their house a couple of years ago. It all seemed like just yesterday. They knew they wanted to retire down in Florida or someplace like that someday. Rain would hate having to suffer through many more winters in the meantime, but moving into their home had been one of the happiest days of their lives. Never in a million years had she expected to be blackmailed and held hostage—of sorts—in her own beautiful home at the end of the peaceful street on which it sat. Rain next considered getting a dog. A big dog. But everyone knew she wasn’t a fan of dogs, so what reason could she possibly give for suddenly wanting one? Also, if this woman were as deranged as she seemed, then she might kill the dog. Dog fan or not, she didn’t want its blood on her hands. She wondered if she should confide in a few of her online friends and get their opinions on the situation. Would they be afraid to take a chance on alerting anyone to the psycho? Or would they be quick to call the cops? Either way, she wasn’t sure she could trust them not to call the cops on her behalf, so she quickly discarded the idea. Then an idea came to her. She didn’t have enough time at the moment, but perhaps she could go to one of those anonymous Ask & Answer sites claiming to have a book idea and then ask people what they would do if they were in a real-life situation like that—to bring a sense of “realism” to the story. Yes, that’s what she would do if she weren’t lucky enough to find their basement empty, and if she was lucky enough to survive if she didn’t. She thought about who the woman could be, what the woman might know about Troy and her personally, and what the woman’s true intentions might be. The woman had told her not to come at her with a weapon, but how could she know that Rain wouldn’t be waiting just inside the window with a gun of her own—not that she owned one? She then wondered if the woman had set up some kind of webcam that she might have missed when inspecting the area. In her duress, she hadn’t inspected the entire basement; she’d only focused on the area by the couch and the window above it. The basement was dark, though, so how did the woman expect to see anything? If she had any cameras set up down there, then they had to be equipped with some kind of night vision. She also wondered how the woman expected to see her way into the place very easily. Wouldn’t the use of a flashlight be a bit risky? Did that mean the woman had to make her way in the dark and hope Rain wouldn’t ambush her? She tried to tell herself that everything would be just fine. Didn’t things happen for a reason, after all? So why not enjoy the mystery and adventure of the situation and try to make the best of it? Because while the situation might entail a good mystery and a sense of adventure, none of it was in a positive way, and none of it could possibly end well, either. That was why. Whether or not things happened for a reason, not everything turned out with positive results. Not everyone survived what they were handed in life, and Rain knew she would be kidding herself if she told herself otherwise. She wondered how the woman would react if she turned the tables—if she gave the demands, if she made the threats, if she gave the ultimatums. She sighed with frustration, once again unsure if it would be a very wise tactic. What if the woman was for real and would make good on her promise to kill Troy? She shook her head. No. She couldn’t live with that. She couldn’t live without him. She had to take a chance and hope this would all be over soon enough. The tricky part would be trying to find out some real information on the bitch without being obvious about it. What about following her? If she did return, could she follow her when she left? She didn’t think so—not without being seen. Another problem she had was that she didn’t drive. So even if she could find out where the nut was parking, she couldn’t follow her once she drove off. A torrent of questions and fears ran through her mind like a tidal wave from hell. The woman had to know at least something about them. She had to. Why else would she have chosen them? Or better yet, why her? There were other homes to break into for their couches to sleep on, and there were other people in the world to threaten into sex. She almost wished Troy would wake up and tell her that the bitch was just a coworker he’d put up to playing a very sick joke on her, but he would never in a million years do something so sadistic and terrifying to her. Finally, the clock struck midnight. Rain sucked in a deep breath and quietly rose from the bed. She reached through the darkness of the bedroom to where her robe hung from a hook just behind the bedroom door, which they always left open. Troy stirred in his sleep but didn’t awaken. Down the stairs she went, keeping a steady grip on the banister along the way. She then threaded her way through the dining room and kitchen. Movement suddenly scared the shit out of her, making her heart take off on a gallop. Her gaze swung through the darkness, trying to make out the source of the movement—and then it hit her. Simone. It was only Simone. Willing her pulse to slow down, she slowly pulled open the basement door and peered down the darkened steps. Only a faint spray of light illuminated the way as the streetlights shone through the casement windows. She began to descend the stairs. She was terrified. She had no idea what this woman was going to do to her. She only knew that the possibilities were endless. The thought of her touching her made her nearly sick to her stomach right then and there, but it would be worse if the woman ended up stabbing her or killing Troy. She could not—would not—let that happen. She would give the woman what she wanted until she finally went away. But would she go away? And would she leave them unharmed? Don’t think about that now! she ordered herself. Just take it step by step and follow your gut instinct. Once she reached the last step, she thought her heart would jump right out of her chest. She placed a hand on her chest and squeezed her eyes tightly. Please, please don’t be there. But she was.