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I tried to convince myself that was the only thing trying to get in. Just the wind⁠—

“Hello, Sienna.”

Time stopped. I couldn’t breathe. Even the ticking clock seemed to disappear.

The voice had slithered out of the dark, smooth and mocking, echoing the tone he’d used the night I’d clawed at him and dialed the police with shaking, fumbling hands. The night I thought maybe I could get rid of him forever.

It had sounded almost amused then, too…like my struggle was nothing more than his entertainment. Now it came from near the living room, by the front door.

I needed to run. Move, Sienna… Run!

A scream tore loose as I bolted, swinging the knife wildly in front of me, carving at shadows as I ran. The blade cut nothing but air, but I kept slashing, desperate, frantic, as if steel could hold back the darkness chasing me.

I ran to the back, yanking the door open the rest of the way, knife in one hand, keys in the other…my hastily packed bag dropped and abandoned.

The screen door slapped against the siding as I tore into the night.

Mud slicked under my shoes, and my feet slid, but I didn’t stop. I ran through the wet grass, across the yard, aiming for the dark wall of trees at the property’s edge. Their shadows looked like salvation if I could just get there first. I’d circle around the fence, make for a neighbor’s house…maybe my car…anywhere that put distance between his breath and my neck.

A hard gust of wind slammed into me, flinging my hair across my face. I staggered forward. Darkness crowded close, swallowing everything except the faint outline of the shed up ahead.

But I heard him.

The soft crunch of methodical footsteps behind me. He wasn’t running. He didn’t have to. Predators didn’t chase…they stalked, and then closed in.

A sob broke past my lips, wild and ugly. I slapped my palm over my mouth, strangling the rest of it as panic spiked. The half-formed sound lingered in the dark like bait.

Don’t be prey. Don’t be prey. Don’t be prey.

I kept chanting it like it would make any difference. Like it would suddenly give me superhuman speed…or at least enough to outrun a man who had always physically bested me.

I veered around the shed, my heart thundering, and my foot caught on a rut in the ground. My ankle twisted, white-hot pain shooting up my leg. Biting back a cry, I stumbled the last few steps before dropping low behind a rusted wheelbarrow. The knife shook in my grip, clenched so tight my knuckles burned.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The moon slipped free of the clouds for a heartbeat…just long enough to spill light across the yard.

And there he was.

A silhouette cut from shadow, broad-shouldered and unhurried.

He was always like that. Controlled. Calm. Like he had all the time in the world to ruin me.

He stood in the yard, his head tilted like he was listening. I didn’t dare make a sound.

“Sienna…” he called again, low and coaxing. “Come on, sweetheart. I just want to talk.”

Sweetheart.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming and curled tighter into the shadows, willing myself invisible.

Rain fell again, soft at first, then steady, pelting the tin roof of the shed in a rhythmic beat that almost masked the sounds of his boots moving closer.

I held my breath.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said, his voice seeping into the night like smoke under a door. “You always were stubborn.”

That voice. I felt it in my bones before I even processed the words, a cold clamp closing around my spine.