Chapter Thirteen

Any misgivings I’d had about Austin slowly melted away as he gave me a tour of the house, apologising profusely for the piles of dirty laundry and stacks of dishes by the sink. It was all so ordinary; painfully dull, in fact. The décor was strictly neutral colours, a nauseating collage of beige, greys and browns fading into one. This was absolutely a single man’s home. There was no sign of any other occupants in the three guest bedrooms, and judging by the mess and distinct lack of style in the house there was certainly no woman around.

Austin kept to his word and put three frozen pizzas in the oven for us which immediately filled me with relief. Whatever was wrong with this place I wanted no part of it. Maybe it's haunted?

We retired to the living room and started chit-chatting when a can of Budweiser was shoved in my face.

“Want one?”, Blake asked gruffly.

“No thanks. I don’t really drink”, I replied apologetically.

From across the room Austin called over, “Come on, Nova! Just