AllFreeNovel
Share Us
42
Max pistons into me in sharp thrusts and his lips come to my throat as he says my name in a ragged groan. My voice comes out in an unrecognizable high-pitched wail, my release just out of reach as he continues to slam me into the bed.
“Mona. Mona, come for me, baby. I need you to come for me.”
“Max, oh god, you feel so good. I’ve missed you so much,” I gasp into his shoulder as my orgasm hits me.
“Mona!” My name comes out as a hoarse, desperate plea as he follows me over the edge. He cries my name over and over as his cock jerks inside of me and his eyes lock with mine. I seek the love I expect to be waiting there for me, but his expression holds only frantic fear.
I startle awake with Max’s tortured face seared into my mind. Something is wrong. Icy dread envelops my entire body, and I swear I hear an echo of him calling out to me even though I’m awake.
“Mona!”
That wasn’t a remnant of the dream. I sit up, shoving the covers off so fast that Nugget almost slides out of bed. “Max?” I call out hesitantly into my dark bedroom.
There’s no reply for a few tense moments and I think maybe I’ve finally lost it. But then I hear him shouting my name again. It sounds like it’s coming from beneath my bedroom. I race to the window and check outside to see if he’s there. But only the empty, dark sidewalk and the gentle swaying of tree branches greet me.
What the hell is going on?
My eyes slam shut as I try to focus, and the next time I hear my name, it’s clearly coming from the apartment below mine. What is he doing down there? Is he in trouble?
The image of Max fighting a shadowed figure flashes in my mind—my dream last night. Oh hell, that was real?! If it was, that means he’s hurt and my creepy neighbor has kept him trapped down there. I knew that man was dangerous from the way he watched me, but this is beyond anything I could’ve imagined.
Max cries out again, followed by a shriek that can’t have come from him. What is happening down there? Oh god. Shit shit shit. What the fuck do I do?
What good are dream omens in a situation like this? Just because I know Max—and apparently someone else—are in danger doesn’t help me know what to do. I tug on a pair of sleep shorts and frantically dig through my closet for anything that I could use to defend myself. Dulled steel shines out from behind my shoe rack—my Lord of the Rings replica sword!
I tug the sword out, cursing as all of my shoes get knocked off the rack in my hurry to grab it. The blade isn’t sharp and I have no clue how to wield a sword, but it’s heavy and sturdy. It’ll have to do.
With terror and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I grab my phone off the bedside table. A normal person would call the cops right now. Maybe I should. But they’ll just think it’s a noise complaint and I don’t know how much time Max has. I have to dosomethingbefore it’s too late.
My feet carry me out of my bedroom and down the stairs to my front door before I take a moment to think things through at all. How am I going to get inside his apartment? I doubt he left the door unlocked. What if my neighbor is in there with them right now?
Shit. I can’t wait. Every second I hesitate, Max could be bleeding out or at risk of my neighbor hurting him more. I take a moment to text Blair for backup in case I die in the next five minutes, then silence my phone so it doesn’t buzz while I’m on my rescue mission.
With a gulping inhale, I unlock my front door and dart out onto the stoop. I pause and look for signs of my neighbor. His car isn’t in its usual spot on the road, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t nearby. I test the door to his place as surreptitiously as a woman holding a replica Andúril in her pajamas in the middle of the night can.
It’s locked.
Fuck, okay. I need to break in. I glance around again and dart across the grass to the open deck that sits under my balcony. There are no lights on inside and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m setting the sword down on the other side of the deck railing and hoisting myself over. Pain shoots up my ankle as my foot rolls on the landing and I hiss out a curse.
Horror seizes me at the noise I’ve made. I crouch low in the shadows, silently praying no one heard me. A tense minute passes before I’m able to slow my breathing enough to focus past my blind panic.
I move over to the sliding glass doors. They’re the same as the ones that lead out to my balcony from my kitchen. I’ve always hated them because I watched too many true crime shows where people’s houses got broken into through sliding doors like these. I wedged a piece of wood in the track to try to prevent that, but I’m hoping an asshole who’s never had to deal with being a woman living alone didn’t think to do the same.
I test the handle and the door wiggles a bit, but doesn’t slide more than a centimeter. How did the criminals get in? Think!
Max’s voice calls out again from the nearby bedroom, and I consider abandoning this plan to look for a rock to break the window with. But who knows if that will do anything other than create a small hole and make way too much noise?
I take a second to breathe, even though terror and my rage at my neighbor’s audacity to kidnap multiple people right beneath me holds a tight grip on me. I need to pry the sliding door open. My sword lies next to my feet, a beacon of hope in this terrible moment.
“Aragorn, lend me your strength,” I whisper as I slot the tip of the blade into the crack in the door and shove with all my body weight. The metal of the door casing groans in protest and for a horrible moment, I think the sword will snap before the door gives, but then the flimsy lock gives way and the door slides open a foot.
Whoa, it actually worked! I want to rejoice, but I still have to go inside and hope my death isn’t waiting on the other side of this door. Holding the sword in front of my chest, I push the sliding door open just enough for me to squeeze inside. Darkness envelops me and the scene from the fight in my dream comes to mind. Dammit, why didn’t I recognize the layout? It’s exactly the same as my apartment.
Blood pounds in my ears, making it difficult for me to hear anything else. I creep up to the bedroom door and twist the handle, keeping my body facing to the side so I don’t turn my back to the rest of the apartment as I enter.
I can’t contain my gasp at what I find inside. There’s enough light from a bedside clock to illuminate a woman tied to a chair in her underwear, her skin covered in weeping bite marks. She screams as I enter, and I hold the sword out in front of me in case she’s a trap.
