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The window opens easily enough, and when I glance outside, I note a short fire escape just below.

I can kick the screen out, then run if I have to.

After shutting the window, I remove the tilt wand from the blinds, then wedge it in the bottom of the window. That way, if anyone tries to open it, I should hear the thing break.

Only once the entire apartment is secure do I take my first real breath in three days.

The urge to sink onto the bed and fall asleep is strong, but my desire to shower is far stronger. Especially since I have no idea when I’ll get the opportunity again.

So even though I crave sleep, I step over toward the counter where Maverick placed the towel and toiletries.

Why did he let me in?

That question has been running through my mind on repeat ever since he left the door to his bar cracked open for me to follow. I’d made it to the end of the alley, about to disappear back onto the street, when I’d had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to go back.

That help could be found in a place I least expected it.

After all, how many bar owners would let a strange woman in, especially when they’d originally thought she was there to rob them?

Yet, I’d seen the horror in his eyes when he realized I wasn’t a threat.

It had been brief, a quick flash of emotion across his face. While I didn’t used to be good at reading people before, these last weeks have made me an expert in the subject. And Maverick was genuinely upset that he’d scared me.

But does that make him trustworthy?

He’s handsome. Not that I should be noticing such things right now. Still, with strong features and a light stubble on his jaw, the guy could be a model for an outdoor calendar. He certainly has that rugged look.

Reaching forward, I gather the stack he left for me and cradle it to my chest as I head into the bathroom. There’s not a single part of my body that doesn’t ache, both from the fight when I escaped and the fact that I’ve been running for three straight days.

I haven’t been able to stop. Not for any longer than an hour at a time, which is the brief window when Maverick found me in that alley.

And now I’m looking at my first real rest.

Am I truly safe, though?

Maverick’s earlier declaration pops into my mind. “You’re safe here.” He’d set an alarm, and the monster hunting me has no idea that I’m here. Does that truly make his words true, though?

Am I really tucked away enough that the monster can’t find me?

After flipping on the bathroom light, I study the small space. A deep, free-standing bathtub also doubles as a shower, thanks to the round curtain surrounding it. There’s a single vanity with a small mirror hanging over it and a three-tiered wicker drawer tower right beside it.

I set the clothes and toiletries there, then turn toward the mirror.

The woman staring back at me has my features. The same delicate nose and the same freckles that have always dusted it and my cheekbones.

Although her eyes are the same shade of blue as mine, there’s a hollowness to them that wasn’t there before. Every day of my life, I have tried to remain positive. Upbeat in the face of all situations I found myself in.

Because I know that, no matter how it might feel, I’m not alone.

Right now, though, I’m really struggling to see past the nightmare.

Tears blur my vision, and I drop my gaze to the sink, not wanting to look at myself any longer because the evidence of what I’ve lived through over the last few weeks is all over my face.

The split lip.

The bruised cheekbone.

And those are only the tip of the iceberg.