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Chapter sixteen
My mother used to tell me damaged people were dangerous because to them, hell was home.
Chandler was dangerous. That much was obvious. What bothered me was that he was also right, even though his reasons were wrong. I was pulled to the darkness in him. What in the world was wrong with me?
I ate half of my pasta before I finally had to tap out. Not even hunger made that stuff taste good. I cleaned the kitchen, washed the dishes, then tried watching television. Wild thoughts kept ringing in my head, like the aftermath of an explosion. Chandler hadn’t simply made hell his home. He’d made it his kingdom—a kingdom I didn’t belong in because I had my own. I had my own bed, my own palace, where my brother and father were probably worried sick by now. I needed to get out of here, not just for me but for them.
The need to escape grabbed hold of my chest and began to suffocate me.
There was nothing in his room that would help. The door to the fire escape had a metal plate over the latch, making the knife trick I did on his bedroom door impossible. There was no way to figure out the elevator code.
The elevator.
Holy shit.
That was it.
Chandler left. Which meant at some point, he would come back. All I had to do was sit in the elevator until he did. He would have to punch the code to come back up. That was my way out.
I grabbed my purse but left my bags. I needed money, not clothes. Then I went back downstairs and pressed the button, calling the elevator car back to his penthouse, knowing the doors would automatically open when it reached me even if I couldn’t go anywhere once I was inside. With my butt on the floor and my head resting against the back wall, I planned my escape. I was closer now than I had ever been. All I had to do was get out of this building and disappear into the crowd I watched on the sidewalk. I would figure out the rest from there.
I took a deep breath and waited for my moment. And waited. Minutes turned into hours, and finally I fell asleep. My eyes had just drifted open when the car shifted and started moving.
I jumped up and swallowed past the lump in my throat. The entire ride down, I watched as the floor numbers flashed lower and lower.
20.
18.
15.
My heart thundered. The realization that I was about to come face-to-face with Chandler, then try to run from him hit me hard enough to make my legs weak. This was so much more terrifying than breaking into his room.
Deep breath, Ani. You got this.
10.
6.
The doors slid open, and our eyes met.
He smiled, then stepped to the side, as though he knew exactly what I had planned and was allowing me to follow through with it. What kind of sociopath kept someone captive, then watched with a grin as they escaped?
The kind who knew escape was an illusion.
Illusion or not, pent-up anger and frustration forced me into action. I pushed off the balls of my feet and darted out of the elevator, feeling like I would bolt out of my own skin if I didn’t move.
The big, bulky guy from the other day started to follow me, but Chandler grabbed him by the elbow, halting him.
“Let her go,” he said, completely unrattled.
More proof Chandler was nowhere near normal. Normal people weren’t simultaneously kind and terrifying.
Without pausing a beat, I ran through the glass doors and out onto the sidewalk.
Panic ran through my veins like ice, leaving me frozen and staring at my surroundings. The city vibrated with life all around me. Cars passed me by, some silent, others with the rhythmic heartbeat of bass trailing behind them. People walked alone and in groups. None of them as much as glanced in my direction.
At any moment, Chandler could come out of that building, grab me, and pull me back inside, and I was helpless to stop it. I had no idea where to go from here. Even if I did know where to go, I had no clue how to get there.
