The Grim Room

CHAPTER 24 and 25

Photo by Lewis Roberts on Unsplash

Alison was an earthquake of colliding emotions—fear and panic and excitement all welling inside her.

She was leading Chris upstairs to her apartment. He looked like the pictures. He was hot, sturdy; manly. He walked like a jailbird. He had prison stories, she was sure. Tattooed. Muscles. But he seemed like a mess: filthy black jeans; his clothes were drenching wet. He smelled like salt water. And he’d relapsed. He hadn’t been able to maintain his probably tenuous sobriety.

And she’d evidently been so tired she passed out in the damn truck. Jesus. Rebecca would be annoyed, making her worry. She’d probably stayed up half the night, concerned. And of course Alison left her cell phone in the car. There were probably a thousand texts from Becca. She didn’t even know what time it was. Barely morning. …