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Squatting down next to him, I drop the pan and reach into his pants pocket. The moment my fingers touch the cool metal of the key, I grab it and pull it out. I run to the door and use the key to unlock it. It takes me three times before I can get it undone with my shaking hands, but the lock finally clicks.

I turn the knob and push the door open. Then I run.

Pushing my legs as fast as I can, I dash down the driveway and into the road. The houses are far apart, but the one to the right is the closest. Choosing that one, I sprint toward the front door, hoping, praying that someone is there who can help me.

“Monroe!” Alaric’s gruff, angry voice echoes down the street, and my panic reaches new heights.

My muscles already ache, and my lungs are burning, but I still press harder, go faster. When I reach the neighbor's driveway, I hear Alaric behind me, his heavy footfall pounding against the pavement. He is closing in. He is going to get me.

“Monroe, do not knock on that door…” he warns, running after me. He is so close.

But I’m so close to the door. I can make it. I run up the five steps to the front door and start pounding against the heavy wood hysterically.

I get about three knocks in before Alaric grabs me from behind, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me back against his chest. I start struggling, immediately kicking out my legs and wailing my arms, but it’s useless because he only holds me tighter. I’m just about to scream when I hear a woman’s voice from the inside of the house.

“I’m coming.” There is a cheerful tone to her voice, almost like she is expecting someone.

“Play along, or I will kill her,” Alaric whispers into the shell of my ear, and my heart goes from hummingbird speed to zero. His threat isn't an idle one, and knowing that chills me to the bone.

Oh my god, what did I do? Not once did it cross my mind that I could put someone else in danger.

“Alaric, please don’t hurt her,” I beg for the woman’s life I don’t even know.

“Just play along.”

Alaric shifts, draping his arm over my shoulder and standing next to me just when the door opens, and we come face-to-face with a middle-aged woman who’s had a little too much Botox. She gives us a friendly smile, but there is a spark of confusion in her gaze.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid I left the door open last night, and my girlfriend's cat got out. I was wondering if you’ve seen it?” The lie falls off his lips so smoothly, I almost believe it myself.

“A cat? What does it look like?” She purses her red painted lips while staring straight at me, and I realize that it’s supposed to be my cat.

“It’s white with gray spots and black paw.” I describe the cat I had when I was five.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I haven’t seen a cat around, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.” Her eyes wander from my face down my body when they stop at my sock-covered feet.

“In my frenzy to get out to find my cat, I didn’t have time for shoes,” I explain. “I really love that cat.”

“Uhm, okay.” She looks at me dumbfounded.

“Thank you and sorry for bothering you again.” I give her a tight smile, hoping she buys it. I’ve never been a good liar, but I’ve never had someone’s life depend on it either.

Before she closes the door, Alaric has already spun us around, and we’re heading back to his place. An apology sits on the tip of my tongue, but my throat is so tight I don’t think I can get a single word out. Tears prick at my eyes, knowing that my life is probably about to end.

Alaric still has his arm around me, and if anyone sees us walking along the road, they probably think we’re a couple taking a morning stroll. No one would ever know he is a hitman for the mob and I’m his captive. Nobody would suspect he is walking me to my execution.

When we get back to the house, he walks me inside and shuts the door behind us. I’m so scared my knees are about to give out. If he wasn’t holding on to me, I would probably fall over. My vision is blurry from all the tears, and my throat hurts from my unspoken words.

“Why are you shaking? Are you cold or hurt?” Alaric turns me in his hold to inspect my face. “What’s wrong?”

Is he fucking kidding?

He runs his hand over my arms and shoulders, almost like he is making sure I’m not injured. I’m so confused about everything, which is probably the reason I bury my face in his chest and wrap my arms around his torso, hugging him like he is my savior and not my executioner.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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