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Rose was grateful for her empty stomach then as it rolled and she gagged. Had Blake found this when he woke up and gone to speak to Jones? No, surely he wouldn’t have left without telling her or just left the photo carelessly on the ground.
She stood up, the room swaying violently in front of her as she fought to calibrate her senses. Where was Bailey? Maybe he’d taken the dog out for a walk. Rose checked the time on her phone and bit her lip. It was later than she’d expected. The tension from the last few days had clearly worn her down, but if he had taken Bailey out they would have been back by now usually. She tried whistling for him and waited with her breath held to hear the clatter of claws on wood. Her heart beat faster when the house remained silent.
Something was wrong. But how could it be when the cops had been outside the house all night? Should still be out there right now? Nobody could have gotten in or out without them knowing… Unless the stalker was one of them. Those damned boots rose up in her mind again, and Rose felt her heart beating in her throat.
If she couldn’t trust the cops, it made sense that she couldn’t trust the security team either. Who knew where this guy had infiltrated? It was the only thing that made sense –how else would he be able to get in and out of anywhere, send her these messages, and know where she was constantly unless he’d been getting that information on the inside? So who could she trust?
She took two deep breaths and decided to text a quick 911 to Noah and hoped he was awake to see it. If he’d been on the night shift… The message showed as read and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was overzealous, but her gut told her something wasn’t right here and that photo… It was next to the bed. Noah was a good guy. She knew she could trust him. But even if he did get here to help, it would take him at least twenty minutes in the car without traffic interfering.
Rose made her way to the bedroom door and opened it slowly, her heart beating so wildly she wondered if it could be heard outside her chest. Her palms were slick on the metal knob, half-expecting there to be a face waiting for her on the other side like in a horror movie.
The hall was empty. Rose let out a shallow breath that got stuck in her throat as she spotted another photo on the floor just a few steps outside the bedroom door. It was the fridge in the kitchen. The room was dark, but she could make out the glow of Bailey’s eyes in the flash, the baring of his teeth as he growled. She dropped the photo to the floor and turned her head to check both ends of the corridor. One of the cons to a house this size, it was hard to know whether you were the hunter or the hunted. Another glimmer of white on the floor had her stepping towards the main staircase, adrenaline coursing through her and making her legs tingle as she bent, looking at the photos from random parts of the house that were scattered down the steps. Her eyes caught on a picture that made her freeze with one foot in the air, about to descend. It was her face, asleep. Her lashes were curled peacefully across her cheeks, Blake was just a large form to her right, the camera was clearly focused on her.
How had the flash not woken her up? What should she do now? This guy was clearly inside the house, had been for a while judging by the photos – Bailey’s odd behavior last night suddenly added up and she groaned. They had been so stupid.
She didn’t know where Blake or Bailey were, didn’t know where the intruder was either. What was she supposed to do now? Should she alert the cops on the off chance this guy wasn’t one of their own?
Decision made, Rose followed the trail of photos downstairs, looking at them only to avoid slipping as she made her way down and to the front door and came to a shocked stop as she saw the chains folded around the double handle. She could try and get to the back door in the kitchen, but she could see the trail of photos led her that way and she doubted very much that the intruder was leading her to an escape. Or, she could get this over with and let them know she was awake and done playing.
Hoping Blake wouldn’t mind too much about the damage, Rose reached for the ceramic bowl where Blake kept his keys and strode for the skinny window next to the front door, slinging her arm back and punching out with it as hard as she could. Her arm felt like it was on fire as the bowl shattered and the glass cracked, a small hole forming as the sound split the quiet.
Her breathing was harsh as she looked at the small break. The cops were trained to notice that stuff, right? She could try and widen the hole and escape but… Blake. She couldn’t leave him here with this psycho.If he was even alive. The thought made her breath hitch. No. Of course he was alive. He had to be.
Nothing seemed to move, like the house was holding its breath as she moved out of the foyer and towards the kitchen, trying to look ahead and see if anyone was in there. Nothing. It looked empty. There was a pile of more photos sitting on the counter, right on top was one of Blake, his blue eyes defiant as blood dripped into his eye and stuck to his hair. Tape covered his mouth and Rose gripped the edge of the picture tightly, forcing herself to focus on the other elements in the photo like the color of the wall behind him (beige), the reflection of a window in his pupils (bright). She was so focused on trying to work out where Blake was being held that she didn’t hear the first footstep as the door to the laundry room swung open.
A hand gripped her elbow tightly and she didn’t waste another breath, just screamed as loudly as she could, straight from her belly. If the cops didn’t notice the smashed glass, surely they would hearthat.They couldn’t all be in on it.
Her face whipped to the side as she was backhanded, landing in a sprawl on the floor. She flipped her hair out of her face, glad that most of it was still tied up, but not thrilled about facing this guy in her PJs. She scrambled up, touching her still-bleeding hand to her mouth and cursing at the sting. That was definitely going to swell.
“So glad you could make it,” she said sarcastically. “We wondered if you were ever going to show. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I’m sorry, Rose. Busy schedule and all.” His hood obscured his face, but the voice was vaguely familiar.
“Leaving your hood up in-doors? How gauche.” The man laughed as she put the island between them and the sound made her skin crawl because he genuinely soundedhappy,like they were friends meeting up for drinks.
“I figured we knew each other well enough by now to do away with the rules for company,” the man said pleasantly and Rose shifted uneasily, trying to ignore the blood slowly dripping onto the floor by her bare feet. “Oh dear, look what you’ve done to yourself,” he tutted. “Stupid bitch.”
“Well that took a turn,” she said mildly, willing her voice not to shake even as her head ached from the force of adrenaline no doubt tunneling through her. “It definitely seems like you think you know a lot about me, darling. But I can assure you that I don’t know anything about you.”
“Liar,” he laughed, and she wasn’t sure what to say. Did he really think they had some sort of relationship? Like he was leaving her sweet gifts this whole time? “It’s sad, really,” he continued on, “you think thatheknows you? You think he’ll whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you whore yourself out for him on the bathroom floor?”
“Is he alive?”
“Sure.” She wasn’t sure she believed the casual way he said as much and she thought she could see a shadow of a grin beneath his hood. “But only because I want to take my time with him after.”
“After what?”
“After we talk, Rose. After I make you see how right we are for each other.”
Rose rolled her eyes even as her mouth dried out, who the hell was this guy?
He didn’t like that, slamming his fist down onto the counter. “He’s no good for you, Rose. He doesn’t know you like I know you.” There was a kind of hysteria to his words, a desperation for her to, what? Agree?
“How cliché. You know, the kitchen is where the knives are kept,” she said, reaching for the longest one and drawing it out with a hand that shook. “Did you not think this through before leading me here? Or are you just stupid?”
A small twist of lips was visible as the man lifted his head and reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a gun and laying it down on the counter like it was more of an offering than a threat, and it felt like her blood turned to ice in her veins.
“Where’s Blake and Bailey?” she repeated, hating the way her voice shook.
