Page 95 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

My father in my apartment. The plan for the cabin. The trip to the garage. Watching my father pull away.

Then something striking me on the back of the head.

Had something come loose from the ceiling?

I reached back, feeling the sticky wetness of blood, my stomach lurching hard enough for me to gag.

Panic surged through my system too quickly to fight. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, wrists, and neck. My blood raced through my veins so fast I swore I could track it from my heart through each of my limbs. My face and fingers felt tingly, and there was a cold sweat spreading across every inch of skin.

A head injury.

Was that going to mean surgery? Half my head shaved and stitched back together? Would I remember how to read and write? Would I have to learn fine motor skills all over again?

I sucked in a shaky breath that ended in a small sob as I tried to push myself up.

I had to get my purse so I could call for help.

I wasn’t even sure how the hell it could have come off my shoulder in the fall if I’d been bracing myself for impact.

“She’s awake,” a female voice said, breaking through some of my anxiety.

And all I could think was: good. Someone likely already called for an ambulance. An EMT would load me onto a stretcher and reassure me that my brains weren’t leaking out all over.

“Where the fuck are they?” a man growled, and I heard items hitting the ground. Like something was being dumped out.

Like my purse was being dumped.

“Check her,” the voice demanded.

Something shot up my spine, sharp enough to force me to focus.

Because I knew that voice.

The man, not the woman.

A hand slipped down my butt pocket, making me yelp and whip around and stare up at the person feeling me up.

Not the man.

A woman.

No.

No.

I was choking on my heart as I looked up at a round face, blue eyes, and black hair.

My father’s girlfriend.

“Hurry up,” the man demanded.

The woman reached toward my front pockets as my gaze tracked the voice until I found it.

Cold sliced through my heart, chilling me from the inside out.

Because, no.

Not him.