Charmed Life
Prologue
James Neal pulled up into his garage, tired and bleary eyed. After three away games, he was ready to crawl into bed and not wake up for the next five days.
Staggering out of the car, he popped the trunk and took out his hockey bag and slung it over his shoulder. The car beeped twice as it locked. James pressed a button and the garage door noisily slid closed.
Dropping the bag by the door, James entered the kitchen, looking to get a glass of orange juice before bed. That was when he first noticed it.
Something was off.
James used maybe a third of the huge house he owned in Pittsburg. And the rooms that he did use, he was familiar with.
The kitchen was one of those rooms. And one of the stools was pulled out too far. After Pascal Dupuis had almost tripped on one of the stools and gave James shit about it for a week, he always made sure the stools were fully under the kitchen island. And this one wasn’t.
It was probably just the drowsiness.
James shook his head, clearing it as he opened the fridge. He stopped short as he noticed the orange juice. It wasn’t on the right shelf.
Then he heard the humming.
Shit.
Someone was in his house! Adrenaline kicked in and James rushed quietly to the hall closet, where he knew were a few errant hockey sticks. Grabbing one, he tiptoed upstairs. The humming came from his room.
Some asshole was robbing him, and he was humming in the process. James was pissed. He should call the police, but the idiot might get away by the time they got here. No, James needed to act. He was suddenly wide-awake.
The humming then turned into singing, something about a charmed life, and James froze. The person was a girl. James couldn’t help but admire the soft, crooning voice coming from his opened bedroom door.
What the hell?
He entered the room, stick poised and ready to attack. The bedroom was empty, but his closet was opened. James turned towards the bathroom, where the singing was loudest.
Looking in, he saw her.
Her long black hair was damped and she was dressed in nothing but a towel. She was twirling in front of the mirror, but stopped dead when she saw him. Her eyes widened in shock as James stared, equally surprised.
Staggering out of the car, he popped the trunk and took out his hockey bag and slung it over his shoulder. The car beeped twice as it locked. James pressed a button and the garage door noisily slid closed.
Dropping the bag by the door, James entered the kitchen, looking to get a glass of orange juice before bed. That was when he first noticed it.
Something was off.
James used maybe a third of the huge house he owned in Pittsburg. And the rooms that he did use, he was familiar with.
The kitchen was one of those rooms. And one of the stools was pulled out too far. After Pascal Dupuis had almost tripped on one of the stools and gave James shit about it for a week, he always made sure the stools were fully under the kitchen island. And this one wasn’t.
It was probably just the drowsiness.
James shook his head, clearing it as he opened the fridge. He stopped short as he noticed the orange juice. It wasn’t on the right shelf.
Then he heard the humming.
Shit.
Someone was in his house! Adrenaline kicked in and James rushed quietly to the hall closet, where he knew were a few errant hockey sticks. Grabbing one, he tiptoed upstairs. The humming came from his room.
Some asshole was robbing him, and he was humming in the process. James was pissed. He should call the police, but the idiot might get away by the time they got here. No, James needed to act. He was suddenly wide-awake.
The humming then turned into singing, something about a charmed life, and James froze. The person was a girl. James couldn’t help but admire the soft, crooning voice coming from his opened bedroom door.
What the hell?
He entered the room, stick poised and ready to attack. The bedroom was empty, but his closet was opened. James turned towards the bathroom, where the singing was loudest.
Looking in, he saw her.
Her long black hair was damped and she was dressed in nothing but a towel. She was twirling in front of the mirror, but stopped dead when she saw him. Her eyes widened in shock as James stared, equally surprised.