Vase. Protecting. Red

Another response to a prompt! I love that I was able to write scene from my actual NaNoWriMo stories using these prompts. This one is from Victoria Byron.

“You’re not my husband!” Kayla pushed away from the strange man and dropped to the floor. The rug that covered the creaking floorboards was worn and threadbare. It did little to break her fall.

“Now, miss, just calm down. No need to cause a fuss.” He walked toward like a cat stalking his prey, careful not to move too quickly lest she spook and run.

But Kayla was already terrified. The innkeeper was in the small house next door. “Give me a call if things start getting funny,” he’d said. Now the storm had picked outside and the fierce winds had knocked out the power making the bedside phone useless. Even if she could root through her luggage, she wouldn’t get a signal out here. She was totally alone with… this man….

This man who looked like her husband, who wore the red boxers she’d bought for their wedding night, whose kisses made knees weak…

“What have you done with Trevor,” she whispered, reaching for some to protect herself with.

“Trevor?” The man frowned.

“My husband! What have you done?! Bring him back to me!”

It was unnerving to see such an annoyed arrogant expression on Trevor’s features. “I’m just borrowin’ him for a spell, doll. Y’see I’m looking for my wife.” The man crouched closer to her and brushed his hand against Kayla’s cheek. Kayla shuddered at his touch but he didn’t even notice. “You’re not as pretty as my Bea, but you’ve got her fire. But in any case there can be no substitute. It’s her I gotta find. And it’s hard to do then when I’m all non-corpreal and whatnot. You understand,  don’t you?”

Kayla grabbed the vase from the end table and smashed it over his head.