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Get control. You can do it. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Breathe. One. Two.
“Damn you, asshole.”
If someone had spoofed the call, they’d selected the number on purpose to let me think my office space had been invaded. And what was the quote supposed to be, terrifying?
It was, the meaning clear, but I did what I could not to think about it.
After checking the front and back door, I backed away, turning in a full circle, wishing Snake hadn’t left. He would have protected me.You’re being silly.Maybe it was a prank caller. I knew better. Should I contact the sheriff? And tell him what, exactly? Maybe one of the custodians had made the call. One of the guys seemed sweet on me. The explanation sounded the most rational and I’d feel comfortable with it, albeit still creepy, except for the quote issued.
He’d been in love with me, or so he’d said. I couldn’t do this, and I certainly wasn’t going back to sleep. And I definitely wasn’t heading into the office early. I’d do a little work on learning more about Snake and what he’d been through, including the incident Mustang had referred to. I’d made a few notes, although I’d yet to find the time to do any research. Now seemed like as good a time as any other.
I walked back to the bedroom, grabbing a robe, running my fingers across the sheet one more time before heading for the second bedroom I’d turned into an office, stopping short a few inches away. The door was cracked when I’d purposely closed it.
The air was ripped from my lungs, my mind a complete blank for a few seconds. Then his face appeared out of nowhere, the vision so clear I was instantly paralyzed.
“Come here, little girl. You can’t run from me. I will find you.” His deep voice echoed in the forest. Then the snow grabbed the sound, floating it toward the sky. Every time I heard his voice, I cringed inside.
I crouched down, the ice and snow pelting against my face almost refreshing. There was only one shot at escaping, and I had to take it. I kept as low to the ground as possible, trying not to make a single sound. If he found me, there was no doubt he’d make good on his earlier threats. Oh, God. Why hadn’t someone found me? Why?
Shuddering, I folded my arms, my body temperature already starting to drop. He’d made certain I had no clothes, nothing that would help me get away from his prison. But I didn’t care. I would make it this time. I would survive and the monster would go to jail.
The only sound was the wind whipping through the trees. I counted to ten then crept out of my hiding place, constantly glancing over my shoulder as I trekked the opposite way of where he’d gone. I’d paid attention to everything he said, finally believing I knew the way to some sort of civilization.
Or so I prayed.
I made it a few feet then a several yards, becoming more confident I could do this.
After another hundred or so yards, I was almost gleeful, certain I noticed smoke coming from the chimney of another house. I raced toward it, exhilarated from the possibilities. I was getting closer. Closer. Yes. Yes. I could do this.
As I rounded the corner, the frigid temperatures making it difficult to breathe, tears of joy filled my eyes.
Then reality set in. I’d been going in a complete circle, right back to the horrible cabin I’d been kept in for months.
“Hello, baby girl. Did you think you could get away from me that easily?”
“Fuck.” The vivid images were so real, more so than I’d experienced for almost a full year.
No. The voice definitely wasn’t the same and the asshole wasn’t here. He couldn’t be.
Calm down and breathe.
A lump formed in my throat, and I backed away instinctively, returning to the bedroom and my closet, flicking on the light. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I grabbed down a shoebox where I’d stored the gun. I’d purchased it as soon as I returned to Montana, my father insisting after everything I’d been through.
I’d laughed at him, explaining I didn’t believe in them. I did at this moment, especially if someone had broken into my house.
My hands continued to shake as I snapped the magazine into the Glock, remembering how the store clerk had looked at me funny when I’d asked for a G-19, giving me the heated onceover. I’d neglected to tell him that I was trained to kill, although it had been on the tip of my tongue. The truth was I’d insisted on going through rigorous weapons training prior to leaving for Afghanistan.
Even though I’d served in the capacity of being a nurse, not a combat soldier, I was glad I had my father’s instincts. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead by now. Once in the attack on our medic station and the other with the asshole who’d dared turn his back on his weapon just once.
I grabbed the weapon with both hands, stalking toward the partially open door. Thank God it didn’t creak as I pressed it open with my shoulder, my eyes already accustomed to the darkness. Even though I saw nothing, I headed for the bathroom, flicking on the light in the small space. Then I headed for the kitchen. The moment I turned on the light, all I could do was smile.
The spoon had been placed in the center of the island as if done strategically. Why wasn’t he here? Maybe he could tell me what I needed to do or that I was overblowing things.
Huffing, I retrieved the gun and walked out of the kitchen. I kept it in both hands as I returned to the office, flipping on the light switch.
That’s when I realized what had happened. Snake had gone snooping after I’d fallen asleep. No. No. No… I rushed toward the desk, turning on the lamp. I always closed the files I was working on, fearful a page would drop to the floor. It was wide open, papers scattered. Even the chair was out more than where I usually kept it, which meant he’d sat at my desk going through every piece of paper.
Shit.
