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Everything was blurry after Frank Palmer sedated me, at least until he started to stab me.
Then, I felt every attack. I was powerless to stop him.
My body wouldn’t obey me. I was limp and woozy, and the room started to spin before I lost consciousness. I was sure I would never wake up again. There was no way I could survive.
I can’t give something like that the chance to ever happen again.
If something as small as a doorstop can help me feel safe, I’ll take it.
So, I pick them out from under the bed.
I feel a little better as I drop them into my purse.
I step back into the main room and find my box of shoes.
The black pumps have a low heel, but just taking them out of the box makes me cringe.
I shove them on anyway and make my way over to the kitchen area, to switch on the smartest thing I ever bought for myself.
The small, unassuming coffee machine always has my back.
I use it to perk myself up before I put on my black trench coat and move over to the front door. I check the peephole that looks out into the corridor of the building. No one’s lurking out there. I like that I have a clear view of my path to the stairwell. I picked this third-floor apartment over a slightly cheaper one on the ground floor, feeling safer with the added distance between me and the outside world.
Taking the doorstops from the front door, I put them in the inside pocket of my purse with the others, and I zip that pocket closed. One last look at the corridor before I unlock the door, and I’ve committed myself to going out into the city for the day.
I lock the door behind me and keep a steady pace as I move toward the stairwell.
I made it through night one in the city, and I even managed to nap.
All I need to do now is get myself a job and I’m set.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Seven
Leanne
Ryan was right about the city being nothing like Silver Lake. The streets are packed full of people from the moment I step out of my apartment building just before nine a.m. I feel more invisible than anonymous, though. It doesn’t take long to decide to stick to the edge of the pavement closest to the road. A couple of close-call bumps with people in a rush make it a necessity to avoid re-opening my slow-healing wound.
I make my way to a coffee shop that looks like it has free tables, and free wi-fi.
The line at the counter goes down quickly thanks to a couple of baristas who really seem to know what they’re doing, and I get my second cup of coffee of the day to help me get through my job search.
The place is bustling, but thankfully I manage to avoid bumping into anyone. It takes a minute to find a two-seat table next to the door. Only trouble is, it’s a little breezy, so I keep my coat on while I take out my tablet.
“Hey, you mind if I sit here?” a friendly voice breaks my concentration.
I look up to see a blue-haired Asian guy with a bright smile, and full hands.
His hair is really cute. It’s short but it’s a little spiked up. He’s wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, a month before Christmas, and plain blue jeans. He’s definitely a Beta, and very attractive in a sweet, unassuming kind of way. He’s also way too young for me so I feel kind of like a creep for checking him out. He’s probably in his late twenties.
A quick glance around tells me I managed to grab the last table in the place.
“Go ahead,” I tell him, trying to smile and not really getting there.
Doesn’t matter. The guy’s a stranger. What does he care about the mood of the strange woman he got stuck sharing a table with?
“Ah, thank you,” he says, as he sinks into the seat across from me. “This place is always crazy-busy.”
