Page 16

Catching my breath, I slumped my back against the door and closed my eyes for a second. That familiar path of walking home had been more like a marathon. A dangerous trek through unknown perils.

Making it inside safely should’ve calmed me, but I was so rattled, so shaken up, that I needed a few more seconds to decompress.

It’s okay.

You’re safe.

It’s safe inside.

And… you’ll figure this out.

I couldn’t live like this. It wasn’t sustainable to persist in fear and worry that the people who knew I could’ve seen that video would come after me.

But what do I do?

I started up the stairs to go to my apartment.

I can’t tell Owen. I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t like the idea of his even questioning my observation. If he wasn’t such an asshole toward me, maybe I could bring it to his attention. But he was an asshole and not for a single second would he give a damn about any concern of mine.

I can’t tell the police. One of the men in those few minutes of the video looked like a cop. He’d had the uniform on, and that had to mean he was a participant in the movement of a dead body.

I can’t trust anyone.

The thought made me want to sob, but I held it in as I reached my floor.

Like usual, Carly stood in the hallway. The door to my apartment was cracked open as she waited for me to come home. Like this, she could hear if Brady needed her before she left to head to her unit. I always texted her when I exited Pickering Inc. Security’s building, so she would know that it was about time to go. It was so late, I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get in her own bed as soon as possible.

“Thanks,” I told her quietly so as not to make noise in the hallway.

She mouthed back good night and walked down to her apartment, closing the door after herself once she was inside.

I sighed, shedding more anxiety, as I opened the front door and stepped in.

Brady was a very reliable sleeper. Once his head hit the pillow, he’d relax and doze right off. I didn’t have to worry about his waking up to the sound of my entering our small apartment or locking the door.

I turned in the darkness to lock the door, glad that the dim light from the kitchenette was bright enough that I didn’t need to stumble through the complete lack of illumination. Sliding the lock on the knob then pushing the deadbolt in place, I felt like I was inching back toward stability. Toward safety.

I was home.

My son was home.

We would be safe with these walls around us.

I sighed again and pivoted. Before I could complete the turn to walk in any further, someone plowed into me. A hard curve of muscle rammed into my side. Thick, muscled arms wrapped around me. The stiff surface of a man’s chest acted like a wall crashing into me.

A scream stayed trapped in my throat as I was pushed clear off my feet. My heart skipped. My lungs failed to fill. Panic washed over me, numbing me in the free fall as I was taken down to the floor.

He didn’t stop there. We thudded to the carpet. His bulky size overpowered me as I landed harshly. If my breath hadn’t been forced out of me with that tackle, it would’ve been now as I smacked down so roughly.

Instead of lying on me and trapping me in place, the blur of shadows moved again. He was up, spinning in a low crouch. But he didn’t leave me.

I sucked in a breath to release a scream for help, but he was faster.

Slamming his arm out, he sought my mouth and covered it with his palm.

He lifted his other arm, another blurred motion I could sense rather than an object I could accurately track with my eyesight.

I dodged his hand and tried to scramble away.