Scaredy Cat Read Online Free
Author: Robin Alexander
snakes. “So…you’ve lived here all your life?”
“Yes. How about you? Did you grow up in New York?”
“No, I’ve only lived there for the past ten years.” Blake glanced at Quinn and looked away. “I’m an army brat. I was born in Georgia, and we lived there until I was six. After that, we moved all over the country and spent a little while in Guam.”
“Cool.”
It was anything but. Blake, unlike her sister, despised being constantly uprooted. She lacked Danielle’s gregarious personality; friends weren’t made easily. And there was always the fear of being in a strange place.
The conversation lulled. Small talk was not Blake’s strong suit. From the corner of her eye, she could see Quinn studying her intently. It made her want to squirm. “How far is Oak Alley Plantation from here?” Blake blurted out suddenly.
“About forty-five minutes. Is that something you’d like to see?”
“I feel like I should,” Blake said, loath to leave the house that she was only beginning to get comfortable with.
“Well, I’m off tomorrow. We could strike out first thing in the morning if you’re interested.”
Blake mustered a smile. “Sure.”
“What else would you like to see?”
“If you have time, the grocery store. I need to stock up on a few things.” Blake winced when Quinn’s right eye twitched slightly.
Chapter 4
Blake shopped as though she were going to be shut in for a year. Quinn stood behind a brimming cart as Blake tossed in a variety of frozen foods into another. The woman had a sweet tooth, too; she’d ransacked the cookie aisle and was eyeing frozen pies.
“Did you happen to bring an extra freezer when you moved down here?”
Blake shot Quinn a quick glance and closed the freezer door. “You have a point.”
“I’ll bring you to shop anytime you want to go, so please don’t feel like you have to stockpile.”
Blake wrinkled her nose. “I think I may’ve gotten caught up in the experience. I don’t shop for myself all that often.”
Quinn followed as Blake pushed her cart into the next aisle. “Must be nice to not have to go to a grocery store,” she said, glancing in Glenda’s direction. Glenda’s brown gaze moved over Blake like a laser as she sized her up.
Quinn found Blake visually appealing but straight up weird. She fidgeted nonstop, very rarely made eye contact, and when they left the house to get into the truck, she ran with her arms over her head. On the short drive to the store, she admitted to a dozen phobias. Fear of birds, bridges, and broccoli were just a few that Quinn remembered. It was September and still in the nineties, but Blake had on a long-sleeved black button-down shirt, jeans, and a pair of black boots. Quinn felt underdressed in her shorts and T-shirt as she watched Blake decide on what toilet paper she wanted to buy.
“Do you write slasher novels, you know the kind with masked freaks wielding chain saws?” Quinn asked out of the blue.
Blake tossed a pack of toilet paper into the cart and grabbed two more. “I mostly write about ghosts, sometimes demons. In my last book, I delved into the darkness of the human psyche, there was some bloodshed. Have you heard of the movie Elizabeth Torn ?”
“Yes, because my brother Jacob is into horror movies. He saw it and said it scared the crap out of him. As I recall, he said the main character was haunted by a dark entity, and in the end, she realized that it was a part of her.”
“That was mine,” Blake admitted lowly.
Quinn chewed the inside of her cheek as she remembered Jacob recounting the grisly murders. “That’s what you write?” she asked, her voice coming out in a squeak.
Blake nodded as she moved down the aisle. “It was based on a nightmare I had. I dreamed that I awoke and someone or something had wrapped the bed sheet around my head. It was terrifying. I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t open my eyes, but when I did actually awaken, I found that I’d managed to wrap
“Yes. How about you? Did you grow up in New York?”
“No, I’ve only lived there for the past ten years.” Blake glanced at Quinn and looked away. “I’m an army brat. I was born in Georgia, and we lived there until I was six. After that, we moved all over the country and spent a little while in Guam.”
“Cool.”
It was anything but. Blake, unlike her sister, despised being constantly uprooted. She lacked Danielle’s gregarious personality; friends weren’t made easily. And there was always the fear of being in a strange place.
The conversation lulled. Small talk was not Blake’s strong suit. From the corner of her eye, she could see Quinn studying her intently. It made her want to squirm. “How far is Oak Alley Plantation from here?” Blake blurted out suddenly.
“About forty-five minutes. Is that something you’d like to see?”
“I feel like I should,” Blake said, loath to leave the house that she was only beginning to get comfortable with.
“Well, I’m off tomorrow. We could strike out first thing in the morning if you’re interested.”
Blake mustered a smile. “Sure.”
“What else would you like to see?”
“If you have time, the grocery store. I need to stock up on a few things.” Blake winced when Quinn’s right eye twitched slightly.
Chapter 4
Blake shopped as though she were going to be shut in for a year. Quinn stood behind a brimming cart as Blake tossed in a variety of frozen foods into another. The woman had a sweet tooth, too; she’d ransacked the cookie aisle and was eyeing frozen pies.
“Did you happen to bring an extra freezer when you moved down here?”
Blake shot Quinn a quick glance and closed the freezer door. “You have a point.”
“I’ll bring you to shop anytime you want to go, so please don’t feel like you have to stockpile.”
Blake wrinkled her nose. “I think I may’ve gotten caught up in the experience. I don’t shop for myself all that often.”
Quinn followed as Blake pushed her cart into the next aisle. “Must be nice to not have to go to a grocery store,” she said, glancing in Glenda’s direction. Glenda’s brown gaze moved over Blake like a laser as she sized her up.
Quinn found Blake visually appealing but straight up weird. She fidgeted nonstop, very rarely made eye contact, and when they left the house to get into the truck, she ran with her arms over her head. On the short drive to the store, she admitted to a dozen phobias. Fear of birds, bridges, and broccoli were just a few that Quinn remembered. It was September and still in the nineties, but Blake had on a long-sleeved black button-down shirt, jeans, and a pair of black boots. Quinn felt underdressed in her shorts and T-shirt as she watched Blake decide on what toilet paper she wanted to buy.
“Do you write slasher novels, you know the kind with masked freaks wielding chain saws?” Quinn asked out of the blue.
Blake tossed a pack of toilet paper into the cart and grabbed two more. “I mostly write about ghosts, sometimes demons. In my last book, I delved into the darkness of the human psyche, there was some bloodshed. Have you heard of the movie Elizabeth Torn ?”
“Yes, because my brother Jacob is into horror movies. He saw it and said it scared the crap out of him. As I recall, he said the main character was haunted by a dark entity, and in the end, she realized that it was a part of her.”
“That was mine,” Blake admitted lowly.
Quinn chewed the inside of her cheek as she remembered Jacob recounting the grisly murders. “That’s what you write?” she asked, her voice coming out in a squeak.
Blake nodded as she moved down the aisle. “It was based on a nightmare I had. I dreamed that I awoke and someone or something had wrapped the bed sheet around my head. It was terrifying. I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t open my eyes, but when I did actually awaken, I found that I’d managed to wrap