Unleashed Read Online Free Page A

she barely took notice of the illuminated exterior of the rustic two-story log cabin as she dashed from the truck up a staircase made of planks, to a door with an oval of frosted glass. Her hands were shaking too badly to insert the key into the lock. She was blind with tears.
    His footfalls echoed on the wood as he came up behind her, took the key ring from her, and opened the door. He stepped back to let her in first. Her throat was so tight she was afraid she was going to choke.
    She crossed the threshold, and her lips parted in shock. Interspersed with oil paintings of mountain landscapes, animal heads hung on the varnished wood walls. Deer, elk. Stuffed ducks with green-and-chocolate-brown plumage, creatures that had been beautiful in life, were displayed as trophies along the top of a polished wooden cabinet. Katelyn thought she might throw up. She was a vegetarian and she and Kimi had been active in animal rights causes. To her, her grandfather’s living room was a chamber of horrors. Why hadn’t she remembered it from when she was little?
    “Let me show you around,” he said.
    “My room,” she managed to say. “I just want to lie down.”
    He shrugged. “Okay. Follow me.”
    On the right side of the modest-sized living area, a steep wooden staircase passed more heads, a rifle on a rack, and what appeared to be a stained-glass window. Her grandfather carried her suitcase while she wrapped her arms around her stuffed bear and eased the purple overnight bag onto her shoulder again. She hated climbing the stairs so close to the blank, staring glass eyes and averted her gaze to the window. The stained-glass window was a red-and-white shield with a yellow rose in the center of a trio of fish. Beneath it in black letters was their name, MCBRIDE . Lightning flashed behind it, giving the red the appearance of blood.
    He reached the landing and turned right, moving down a short corridor featuring one more deer head and small wall sconces that looked like old-fashioned gas lights. A wooden door to her left was ajar, and the light from the hall revealed a bathroom sink. Then he pushed on the door at the end of the hall, and it opened.
    The wall sloped, and there was a small skylight positioned above a double bed covered with a burgundy-and-gray plaid blanket. A carved square headboard held two brass pots of ivy. On a nightstand was an antique lamp of cranberry-colored glass. There was a dresser with a circular mirror. On it was a bottle of furniture polish and a rag. She smelled the lemony odor of the polish and, beneath that, dust. Maybe he’d spent the past several days cleaning, instead of coming to her mother’s funeral, to make her feel at home. But it wasn’t like her old room at all. The room that had been destroyed by fire.
    “Thanks,” she said stiffly.
    He set down her suitcase and crossed to the bottle of wood polish and the rag. He picked them up. “You must be hungry.”
    “I’m not. Really. I’m just tired.” She didn’t look at him but kept her gaze firmly trained on a braided rag rug on the wooden floor.
    When the door clicked shut, she realized he’d left the room. Wearily she sank onto the bed, stretching herself forward on her stomach. She brought her fists underneath her chin and burst into sobs. Then she bit down on her knuckle to force herself to stop. The last thing she wanted was for him to come back in and investigate.
    Thunder rumbled; rain fell on her skylight, then stopped. Finally she quieted. She pulled out her phone to call Kimi. No service. Then there must be a landline somewhere. Most people had a phone in their kitchen.
    She got back up and went into the hall. As she reached the top of the stairs, she smelled smoke. She gasped and took the steps at a run. She was just about to scream when she spotted a stone fireplace on the opposite side of the room, a fire blazing away in the hearth. Instead of looking cozy, though, it sent a wave of fear crashing over her, as strong and real