by Jaime Rush
“He didn't have a knife.”
“That you saw.” He looked into her eyes. “Did he say anything to you?”
She was supposed to pretend to be afraid of Lucas. That he'd said nothing. She shook her head.
He studied her. “Nothing at all?”
“He didn't have time. You—”
“You're lucky to be alive, ma'am,” he interrupted before turning and leaving.
“Shot him,” she finished with a whimper. She fell limp onto the bed, a cold fog starting from her fingers and stealing over her entire self. Orn'ry was screeching in her office but she couldn't move. Trembling followed the cold, tiny seizures sparking through her muscles.
Offspring. Her father. Betrayal. Lucas's urgent words careened around in her head. Then the leader's words: serial killer. Eviscerated women. Lucky to be alive.
Lucas was right. Someone had been outside listening, watching. Watching her. A violent tremble shook her body. On wobbly legs she walked to the window and pulled open the drapes, hoping for a glimpse of the vehicle the men had arrived in. The lights that usually illuminated the parking area were off, leaving the night in darkness. She heard the sound of a car start and pull away but never saw headlights.
“Who are you people?”
She became aware of the paper in her hand, now damp from sweat. She tucked it in her pajama waistband with shaky fingers. The most bizarre thing was how worried she was for the stranger who'd broken into her apartment and scared the hell out of her. She managed to reach for the phone and dial Uncle Cyrus.
He answered on the first ring. “Amy, what's wrong?”
“A man broke in…then these men…serial killer…they shot him!” Her teeth started chattering and she couldn't utter anything else.
“I'll be right there.”
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
