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Owen didn’t step toward me but I knew there weren’t many places out of here. In fact, the only realexitwas my front door or a window. Trying to bolster my confidence, I swiped a piece of metal off the table by the door, grimacing when I realized it was a measly letter opener. “Look, I’m glad things have changed for you but I have a boyfriend now.”Three.
He laughed, stepping closer as I took a step back, running through my options. The bedroom windows were large enough to jump out of but they were a bitch to open. I wouldn’t have enough time.
His voice tore me out of my failed plans. “And you’re lying, just trying to make me jealous. I get it. The gig’s up though. I know they were here for the job. You should have told me and I would have handled it.” It was true. Owen always handed things like that but it wasn’t because I couldn’t. It was just because I never cared.
“It’sjusta kitchen remodel,” I reminded him, not convincing myself at all.
“It’s not!” He bit his lip as if he hadn’t meant to say that, the truth finally coming out. The fact that Owen was adamant about being the point person on this renovation even when we were no longer together was suspicious as fuck.
“Listen to me, babe.”
I was going to be doing no listening as I thrust the letter opener in front of me, hoping it would stop his slow advance. Metal shined beneath the dim lighting. It was a good thing he was a few feet away from me or there would have been blood everywhere. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House.” I silently applauded myself for keeping my voice steady.
Everyone said I was spiraling but the adrenaline running through my veins was the only thing keeping me standing right now. When Owen started toward me with no intention of leaving, I ran. Of course, my fucked up brain took meawayfrom the front door and farther down the hall, to a bedroom we had once shared. I was smart enough to remember that there was one door in my house that had more than one lock, one that was physically impossible to open from the outside unless the deadbolt was undone.
I took a sharp left and slipped into the basement, doing up the deadbolt with trembling fingers, my ragged breathing telling me that a panic attack was on its way. Owen banged on the door, a scream tearing from my throat as I did the last lock.Too close.
“Babe, stop being irrational. It’s not that serious. Look, I’ll just wait for you out here so we can talk.”
Horror and fear swarmed me as I realized that Owen very well would stay right there and wait for me to emerge. I’d seen him wait for hours just totalkand it dawned on me that while he might not have always been physically abusive, he was absolutely emotionally abusive. My phone was still clutched in one hand, the letter opener discarded somewhere when I had been doing up the deadbolt.
“Talk about what?” I whispered.
“Oh,sweetheart,” his patronizing voice came again. “About the engagement, the house, your project.” His words trailed off as his footsteps disappeared down the hall, the familiar squeak of my office door reaching my ears. I pressed my ear against the door, Owen’s curses streaming through as metal clanged against metal. It took a moment for the sounds to register before I realized he was trying to get into my safe.
My heart dropped into my stomach as I leaned back. The entire relationship had just been for this? For my dissertation or was there something I was missing?
Owen’s footsteps pattered down the hallway in the other direction, but I knew he wasn’t leaving. He was just biding his time because I couldn’t stay down here forever. After all, the basement was nothing more than a cellar.
My nerves were shot as I sat down on one of the steps, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do. Calling the police would just have one of the detectives coming to the house, Owen sweet-talking them and telling them that I somehow locked myself in the basement. If I resisted, Owen would then tell them about the drinking and the erratic behavior, twisting my sense of freedom into the idea that I was harmful to myself.
Thestressof my degree as Owen liked to call it.
I didn’t want everyone to know how bad things were, either. Owen had been sweet once upon a time and I guess that’s why I zoomed past all of the red flags until it was too late. Ada was out of the question. Liam could help but it wouldn’t be fast enough…
There was one number I could call but I wasn’t sure if we were close enough for that. Sure, there had been a lot of groping in the kitchen earlier but not enough for me to call in a rescue. However, they had dealt with Owen already once before.
I also didn’t have that many options.
Owen called from the kitchen, “Babe, I’m making some lasagna, alright? I’m sure you haven’t had anything to eat. Oh and mac n cheese! And your show is on! Game of Thrones, right?”
The switch was fucking insane. He had stormed in here, uninvited, and now he was acting like he used to, like when we were dating. I didn’t even like Game of Thrones, though.
Settling against the wall, I redialed the number that Dmitri had given me. There was some lingering doubt that all three of those men were wrapped up in the same craziness that Owen was and yet they were the only ones that were capable of coming to my aid in my warped mind. I just hoped Dmitri hadn’t been lying about calling him foranyreason.
They were my last hope.
“Hello?” The voice of a groggy Frenchman answered, his yawn something so fucking delicious that I almost forgot the terror running through my veins.Almost.
“Um, yes.”Well, that was fucking stupid.“Help.” The words weren’t coming to me, my throat closing, and the panic finally starting to emerge. I was vibrating like a motor, teeth chattering as I tried to calm myself long enough to speak again. “He’s here,” I whispered as if that was enough information to do anything with.
There was a moment of silence before I heard scuffling and another grunt, most likely Valentyn. Dmitri started speaking again. “How the fuck did he get in? Shit! Where are you? Are you safe?”
I ignored the first part, feeling like it wasn’t for me, and answered the last two questions. “The basement and yes.”
Another moment of silence, more scuffling, and a slam of a door.
“Stay there, Rhys. Don’t fucking move. We’ll be right there. And whatever you do, don’t hang up the goddamn phone.”
