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Hannah felt the drugs wearing off many hours later. She woke up slowly, hazy and disoriented. There was a soreness in her shoulders and back and she moaned against it, her eyes still closed. There was pain in her stomach where she had been kicked and her scalp twinged. Then there was the sharpness of the glass in her hands, more acute than before and she realized her hands were clutched together.
Her eyes shot open as she realized her hands were tied behind her. Her senses came back all at once, sharper than usual. There was a tightness over her mouth and face, covered with something so she couldn't scream. Duct tape, she assumed. Her legs were sprawled out to one side awkwardly, the hard cement floor cold through her thin cotton pajamas. She pulled them back toward her body, cringing at the pain. There was something round and hard against her back. She tilted her head upward, seeing what she was tied to. A gray support beam. The kind you only find in basements.
Hannah's eyes shot around, taking in the thick concrete walls, the tiny rectangular windows that showed only darkness. There was a staircase to a far corner, the steps steep and irregular. A washer and dryer against one wall. A tool bench on another.
If she could get her arms free and get to the bench, she could find something to defend herself, hide until someone came, and attack. Escape. She had to escape.
By the time someone even noticed she was missing, it could be too late. And even if Elliott noticed her absence, he would probably attribute it to their rift. Her only hope was Tad. Tad knew what was going on. Tad knew about Xander Rhodes. And, she had to face it, Xander was her only chance at being found.
But she couldn't just sit and wait to be discovered. It would probably never happen. She was her only hope.
She pushed her legs up underneath her, leaning heavily onto the support beam. Her legs were waking up from falling asleep, pins and needles, weird pulsing and standing on them required more effort than she was used to. Once standing she arched around the beam, looking down at her hands. Duct tape.
Hannah let out a cry, muffled by the tape across her lips. She could have tried to maneuver her hands to untie knots. Tape was a whole other issue.
She rubbed her wrists up and down against each other, the tape pinching and ripping at her skin as she did so. But loosening. She just needed to get it loose enough to slip out of.
A short time later, feeling more like hours as her skin on her wrists and hands turned raw and tears streamed unabashed down her face from pain, she heard a door upstairs slam shut. Footsteps across the floorboards. Walking down toward the side of the room where the stairs were. And then the door flew open, feet scraping down the steps. Hannah felt her breath getting stuck in her lungs like something heavy was settling on her chest.
Then a bare light bulb came on in front of her, turned on by a pull tab. She squinted at the light, her eyes blinking suns behind her lids. She squinted against it. She needed to see. She needed to know who had been making her life a living hell for months. Who hated her so badly she wanted to kill her.
Hannah didn't know what she was expecting. A random passerby from work. Or a complete stranger. Even Dan. But her eyes widened and what little breath she held in her lungs escaped her nostrils audibly at who was standing before her.
Sally.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Elliott had called her twenty times by morning. He went to voice mail over and over. But she didn't pick up. His texts went unanswered. He showed up at work, trying to focus on his tasks as the hustle and bustle of the office went on around him. And Hannah didn't show. He had expected to see her there, stubborn and prideful. Her eyes shooting daggers at him. Calling himMr. Michaelsin a tone that suggested she really wanted to call him arat bastard.
But by ten o'clock he had given up hope of seeing her there. Perhaps ever again. He had royally screwed up and Hannah was not the kind of woman who forgave easily.
There was a frantic knocking at his door and he felt his heart stutter, praying it was her. But the door burst open and Tad rushed in looking frazzled, worried. Frantic even. Every bit not the Tad he was used to seeing everyday.
"Something's wrong," he said, his voice high pitched, breathless. At Elliott's raised eyebrow, he went on. "Something is wrong with Hannah."
Elliott sighed. He knew Hannah and Tad were close. He definitely knew by now that they were... together?
"We had a fight Tad," he said, his voice quiet.
"What? No," Tad said, walking closer, his eyes wide. "No, I mean something is wrong. I know she never told you about what has been going on..."
"What has been going on?" Elliott asked, rising from his seat, concern building.
"Someone is stalking her."
"What?" the word exploded from him like a curse, like an accusation.
"Come here," Tad said, leading Elliott into Hannah's office, brushing the contents of her desk frantically onto the floor to reveal the carving underneath. "It's been going on for weeks. Threatening notes. Emails. Graffiti on her parking space. They took pictures of you and her together. Calling her a whore. Tell her she's going to die..."
"Jesus Christ," Elliott said, savagely. Why didn't she tell him? Why would she keep it all to herself?
"That's not the half of it, Elliott," Tad said, Elliott's name sounding clumsy on his tongue. "They broke into her house. Stole her pet. Drew a picture of her dead on her living room wall. That's why she ran," he rambled on. "That's why she went to her hometown. But they followed her there. They cut her brake lines."
"Oh, God," Elliott said, sitting down on Hannah's chair, his head in his hands. He wasn't a man prone to worry. Anxiety was never a part of his life which he structured to always have control. But all his control was slipping out of his hands and he felt like he was spiraling into some awful unknown.
"She's gone," Tad said after a moment. "I've been calling and texting. She's not responding. Something is wrong."
Elliott stood up suddenly, turning over the chair as he did so. "I'm going to her apartment," he announced and looked over his shoulder. "You coming?"
