Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I just typed out the message, saying a silent prayer that he would see it, that he hadn’t gone to bed yet.
HELP
911
I was going to send another message when I remembered my volume was on full blast, so I clicked it all the way down, feeling it vibrate, then go silent in my hand.
I kept it there, but put it to sleep, not wanting the light to give me away as I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat, and reached for the door handle, turning it centimeters at a time, some part of me paranoid that someone might be standing in the doorway, watching it for movement.
Exhaling slowly, I started to push it open, half an inch at a time, until there was enough room for me to peek out.
There was no one there.
I sucked in a steadying breath as I eased the door open, praying it didn’t squeak, didn’t give me away, as my mind tried to decide my next step.
Not the front door.
That was a fancy door, one with an internal lock, not an external one. So if the security system was still engaged, the only way to open it would be to type in the code. Or, you know, just try to bust through the glass.
I didn’t want to waste precious seconds typing it in if someone saw me, if someone was chasing me.
The back door had a normal toggle lock and deadbolt.
Opening it would still make the alarm go off. Which was fine because it would make the cops come as I ran for my life.
But it would take me all of one second to unlock both doors if I had my hands free.
Decision made, I tucked my phone into my back pocket, screen facing my butt, so the light wouldn’t give me away if someone texted or called as I ran from the building into the dark.
There wasn’t much around the doggy daycare. This lot had been chosen for that very reason. Because, obviously, dogs barked. And lots of dogs barked… a lot. So the owner had chosen a building that had a large plot, so we had outdoor play areas, but was surrounded by trees to muffle sounds and appease any nearby businesses.
The closest building was a small bagel place that was only open from six in the morning until one in the afternoon.
No one there to go to for help.
Then there was a chain bank.
Again, closed for many hours.
The next closest business that would be open was a gas station. There would be an attendant in the little booth, waiting for cars to pump gas. It was one of the things I loved most about this state, the safety of the gas stations at night. A man or two in the booth, more in the convenience store, if they had one. Someone to run to for help.
That was where I had to go.
And I had to go now.
Before he finished looking around, and then decided to circle back and start again.
I inched across the break room, keeping close to the wall, then working past the urge to stay hidden, and poking my head out to glance out.
The coast was clear.
And, somehow, that almost felt worse.
Some part of me wanted to rush back, close myself into the pantry, and hope for the best.
I couldn’t do that, though.
Sucking in a breath, I carefully toed out of my shoes, knowing I would be more silent in my socks, even if it meant I would have to run in the freezing cold without the protection of my sneakers.
Then I turned and ran toward the right out of the doorway, heading into the long hallway, suddenly painfully aware of the doorways that led off of the hall, leading into other rooms in the building. The perfect hiding space for someone who might be lying in wait for me to show my face.
No.
No, I couldn’t focus on that.
I was going to make it to the door.
I was going to get away.
I ran at full speed, heartbeat hammering, breath tight in my chest.
Then there it was.
The door.
My freedom.
My hands shot outward as I closed in, aimed toward the knob and the deadbolt, feeling some hope surge.
Almost there.
Once I was outside, I was sure I would be okay.
My fingers grazed the cool metal of each of the locks.
And it was right then that someone grabbed a hold of my ponytail, twisting, and yanking in an eerily familiar way.
“Found you,” a voice said, making my stomach plummet as I was pulled forcefully back from my only chance at freedom.
Pain screamed across my scalp. And I knew there would be more to come.
Because it wasn’t the owner.
Or some random pet parent.
No.
It was the person who meant to do me the most amount of harm possible.
Joss.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AJ
“Yeah, scream,” he said as I sucked in a breath to do just that.