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Hopefully.
“Stop! Please!” she screamed.
I took a big step in the direction of her pleas, and the front of my foot clipped something. I lurched forward and skidded across the carpet, my face bouncing off the floor. Great, I was going to have rug burn on my cheek.
Whatever, I was getting closer to Lizzie.
Her cries muffled suddenly, and I froze. “Lizzie! LizBelle!” I needed to get myself a phone. Then again I didn’t know Angelina’s phone number. Maybe if I pounded on the wall she and Hunter would come over. They’d have keys, right?
Another yelp from the left had me moving again. This time it felt like I’d entered a tunnel the way the sounds ricocheted around me. An echo.
Hallway.
I must be in a hallway.
Arms out, I shuffled faster, and my right hand hit a wall. Sweet, this might take me to her room. I knocked into something and a crash followed. Hope she didn’t like that picture that had hung there.
“Lizzie!”
Why wasn’t she answering me?
The crying got louder. I was moving in the right direction. A few steps later, my fingers met a doorframe. I might have bent a fingernail back ramming into it, but it vaguely registered, because a blood-curdling scream ripped through my gut.
“What do you want from me? What? Please. No!” Lizzie yelled.
Goose bumps puckered my skin as I stepped forward. The tunnel effect lifted, and a wave of her scent stormed over me.
I heard thrashing.
To the left.
Yes. Maybe she was in her bed!
I hustled forward—at this point I didn’t care if I ran into a brick wall, I had to get my hands on her. “LizBelle!”
She coughed, gagging. “No. No!”
My knee found the bed first, and I tipped forward. My hands met a soft, thick blanket, and I worked my way to the left, hoping I guessed right about where the head of her bed was.
A foot crashed into my shoulder, knocking me on my ass. At least I’d found out which way was up. I hopped up and reached for her again. This time I met an arm—I think—and I took hold of it.
Yes, small, her wrist.
I squeezed it and said, “LizBelle. What’s happening?”
Cries spilled out. “Don’t kill them. Please. Don’t. All I have. Please—”
More choking followed.
“Can’t breathe. Hot. Hot.” She let out another scream, and I sat on the bed next to her, trying to corral her flailing arms, which was pretty funny because I couldn’t see them.
“Lizzie!” a new voice entered the scene.
I stood, back to the bed. “Who’s there?”
“Oh God. Lizzie!” Someone entered the room.
“Damon?” That was a guy’s voice. Wait, I recognized that.
