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And then I’m helpless. My hands have been captured, and he’s lying across me, effectively pinning me to the bathroom floor. Bursts of his angry breaths saturate the air, and he shifts to get a better hold on me, his head hung low near my shoulder, his hard muscles cutting into my flesh. I whimper, the terrified tears that have been held back by pure adrenalin now charging forward and pouring from my eyes.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ I sob. ‘Please, I don’t know what you want.’
He doesn’t move for a painfully long time, probably feeding off the fear he’s evoked. Then he slowly brings his head up, keeping his face away, and my distress amplifies, just from the close-up view of the menacing black balaclava.
My stomach twists, my vision blurring as my tears build and build, and I tremble beneath him, terrified. My hands are becoming numb from his tight hold of my wrists, but the rest of my body is physically pulsing from the blood rushing through my veins. ‘Please,’ I murmur weakly, my plea trickling past my lips on a shaky breath.
I close my eyes and pray. Please, please, please. I repeat my silent prayers over and over, turning my head away when I feel him staring down at me, watching me hide from my fate.
My breathing slows, and I relax. My mind is giving up. Everything is giving up. Then the sense of freedom engulfs me, my body becoming weightless. It takes a while to figure out why.
My eyes snap open. My arms are free. He moves fast, lifting himself from my body and lunging for the bathroom door. Life powers through me and I scramble to my feet quickly, seeing the bathroom door slam. Instinct kicks in. I dash for the door and yank it open, my legs miraculously working. I can’t feel them. I can’t feel anything. But I can see. He’s at the window. I stutter to a stop and watch him climb up on to the windowsill, and then in the blink of an eye, he’s gone.
The adrenalin suddenly drains from my body and I release a sob, my body starting to convulse as I lose control of my emotions. I grab the doorframe to steady myself, every muscle going slack, and I start to drag in long breaths, knowing I need to get some air into my lungs. My phone. I dash into the bathroom and rummage through my bag, yelling my frustration when I don’t find it. Then I remember it dropping to the floor in the corridor at The Haven after I took Lucy’s call. ‘No,’ I shout, slamming my bag on the sink. I need to get out of here. Gathering my things, I fly out of my apartment like a gust of wind.
I stumble down the stairs clumsily, out into the cold like a madwoman. My head is spinning, my heart racing, and in an act of pure impulse and desperation, I rifle through my bag, finding my purse and pulling out the tattered old picture of Dad and me. It doesn’t give me a scrap of comfort. His face laughing up at me doesn’t help calm my nerves. I sob into the cold night-time air as I take off down the street to the Tube station, my impulse sending me to the place I’ve made my sanctuary and to the man who has my heart.Chapter 30The sight of the courtyard at The Haven doesn’t capture me like it usually does. The peaceful atmosphere that engulfs this space doesn’t settle me. I don’t have the usual warmth coursing through me. I thought it would help calm me but it hasn’t. But I know Becker will.
Dashing across the cobbled stones and into the Grand Hall, I stumble through the space carelessly, more than once hearing the precarious shift of something as I steam past. I swipe my card, and I’m out of there before my mind has caught up with my body. Then I’m standing at the mouth of the corridor, trying to catch my breath.
I deliberate my next move, wondering where he could be. ‘Becker,’ I yell, but I get no response. I don’t know where to look, his office, the kitchen, the library. My frantic state is making it impossible to calm down. But then I’m racing up the stone steps like a bat out of hell. My key card grants me access to Becker’s apartment, and when the door closes behind me, I drop my bag and force myself to be still, listening for any sounds. My breathing is hampering me. It’s loud and chaotic. Blood is whooshing around my head, invading my hearing, making me dizzy. I’m moving towards the glass-bricked wall before any senses kick in, something drawing me there, telling me what I’m seeking can be found beyond the shimmering bricks. The sound of rushing water starts low and quiet until I’m at the door and it becomes loud and harsh. I can’t see a thing. Becker’s bathroom is engulfed in steam, the hot air clinging to me, making me instantly damp. I need him to hold me, tell me everything is okay.
