Gabriel nodded as if he understood. “It really has been crazy.” He smiled softly, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes as he closed the distance. He stopped in front of me, and I held my breath.
He even smelled like Fai. It was disconcerting. He slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. I wanted to scream; I wanted to fight, but I complied. He held me in a hug, his cheek against my forehead. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to hit him. But I waited.
I waited.
“I missed you,” he murmured, the words full of sincerity.
Maybe he was lost in a delusion, thinking he actually was Fai. If that were the case and I broke the illusion, he could snap. I knew he wasn’t afraid to hurt me—he had literally fired a shotgun at me. I had to play my cards right.
“I missed you too, Fai,” I mumbled, still not holding him back. I tried to do the math on how long it had been since he came in. If I was right—and after a week of following this exact routine, I was sure I was—it would start any—
The whistle of the kettle, a high-pitched squeal growing louder, had Gabriel jumping and turning toward the sound as his hold loosened. It gave me the opening I needed to push him away, and push I did. Using all my might, I pressed my arms against his torso. His steps fumbled, just enough to send him crashing over the coffee table.
Then I ran.
I pumped my legs with everything I had, rounding the corner out of the living room and into the hallway. I shoved pictures off the walls and swiped books from the shelves—anything that would get in his way. I could hear him scrambling to his feet, and it felt as though the world slowed.
Each step moved in slow motion. As I rounded the corner into my room, I saw him enter the hallway, all emotion wiped from his face, his gaze set on me. I slammed the door shut, locking it just in time as he began pounding on the wood. It rattled on its hinges.
“Sarah!” he screamed.
I shoved the dresser in front of the door, using a strength I didn’t know I possessed. His pounding and screaming continued, but it would take time to get through both the door and the heavy furniture. I looked around. I had a few options. I could hide under the bed, but I’d be easy to spot. I could make a run for it out the window, but if he caught on, he’d overtake me in seconds. In Montana, we’d had the upper hand.
Now, I had bandaged feet that struggled to walk, let alone run.
“Think, Sarah,” I muttered.
Running wasn’t an option. I grabbed the phone off the receiver on my nightstand and quickly shoved one of the windows open before quietly retreating into my closet, closing the door even more softly behind me.
I maneuvered behind my clothes, working my way to the back corner. I crouched down, my back sliding against the wall as I dialed and prayed he would pick up… that he would save me.
