Gridlocked Guesthouse (Locked House Hauntings Book 1) by Mixi J Applebottom

know why she promised that either. She had no fucking clue what was going on! Why do people say this sort of thing? Is this vague statement comforting?
    If I'm in a haunted house, and weird shit is going on, don't promise that it'll be okay. Say you'll try to protect me, or even the platitude, "I'm here now." You know? Tell me we can slay these demons together. Don't sit there and spout the shit that you can and will make it okay. Nobody can do that unless they have some sort of skills in ghost management. It's not okay, it's not about to be okay. Rachel, don't fool yourself. It's about to be very, very, very not okay.
    Mikaela was washing his arm slowly when it occurred to her, "Ben, where is my phone?"
    He burst into a fresh set of tears; swollen, beaten faces can leak just as well as regular ones. "I'm sorry. I lost it when I was running."
    Beezer let out an exasperated, overdrawn sigh. "What happened? What the fuck, dude?"
    But Ben went silent again. "Try and rest," Rachel said, kissing the swollen forehead. They did not find any ibuprofen and resorted to giving him a strong sip of vodka before they forced more water in him. Soon Ben was resting in a light fluttery sleep that was frightening. He would swing his arms suddenly and then lie limp again.
    "Do you think he just got lost?" Rachel hissed to Beth.
    Beth said in a tired monotone, "Jenny is locked in her car, tied up."
    Lucy was still silent and huddled in her chair. Tiffany and John still sat at the kitchen table. He was silent and stared out the window; his nerves were totally shot and he jumped every time Ben moaned. He was scared shitless.
    Tiffany tried to comfort the man, but then gave up and made another pot of coffee. They didn't need more, but she desperately needed something to do.
    And it occurred to her that maybe Mikaela's phone was on the staircase. The wooden stairs leading to the basement. Maybe the phone was there, maybe it would work now. Maybe...
    She glanced at John, who was incoherently afraid; no, she shouldn't tell him what she was doing. He'd just freak out more. She stepped into the hallway at the top of the stairs. Peering down, it seemed ungodly dark down there, like the light that was pleasant and strong in the hallway couldn't penetrate the ominous feeling. Slowly and carefully, she stepped down each step, searching for the phone with her hands as she scooted. Maybe she'd find something to explain what happened. It was so absurd.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
     
    Crash. The glass starred into long, delightful cracks. If anyone had smashed out a windshield before, they would have known it was tempered glass, designed to shatter into the safest shape of glass chunks. It wasn't as likely to become the long, terrifying shards as other types of glass. Anyways, they'd also have known that they probably didn't have to hit it so melodramatically in order to shatter it.
    I wish I could say they took a big ass hammer and slammed it into the window directly in front of Jenny's face and watched her eyes fly wide with intimate fright! Don't you feel with every scream, you know these kids' even better? Do you feel their frightened souls bond to yours? I certainly do.
    But they were, in fact, terribly gentlemanly about the careful destruction of her vehicle. They tapped at the corner farthest from her with a rock, until it suddenly splintered. And once the window was cracking, Zane carefully pushed his body weight on the window, and it started to fold inward, all in one flexing, cracking piece, like a giant, dangerous fabric.
    He realized his error, but it was too late, and the whole pane fell on Jenny. She let out a muffled cry, but other than a few scratches, she was actually fine. I mean, the glass didn't hurt her. She was far from "fine" in all the other ways a girl can be.
    Zane carefully untied her wrists, and the two goats, Cletus and Carson (I can't tell which is which any better than the rest of