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If he got hold of me, he’d have the upper hand, for sure.
I had to put something significant between the two of us so that if he came at me, there would at least be something to slow him down, and I would have time to react. “Where is who?” I finally questioned, taking another step backward, determined to make it into the kitchen. Our table was pressed into the corner of the room, so backing myself into that would only give him the upper hand.
So, the plan? Put the kitchen island between us and find something fucking sharp.
“The girl,” he answered, coming out of her room and focusing his narrowed glare on me once again. I couldn’t stop the shudder that rushed up the back of my neck, his robotic voice like something I imagined hearing in a serial-killer movie, completely devoid of emotion. “The little girl.”
Kadey?
He wanted Kadey?
My hand gripped the kitchen counter, and I used it to steady myself as my legs began to shake.
He wanted my baby.
It was like a shot of adrenaline straight into my veins. It is hard to explain that mama-bear feeling to someone who has never experienced it. For me, I felt more comfortable having Kadey in the house with me than when I was alone because I knew, without a doubt, that I’d do far more to protect my daughter than I would to protect myself.
If someone came for me, I was going to fight.
If someone came for her…
… I was going to kill.
“Why do you want my daughter?” I questioned, finally making it to the edge of the kitchen island. I purposely leaned into the hard surface, trying to make myself look less intimidating and more vulnerable. “She’s just a little girl. She hasn’t done anything.”
“Not yet,” he answered, finally taking a step toward me. “But she is going to do something great.” There was something deep and dark within his stare. It didn’t falter for a second, glued to me as I crept slowly, the kitchen counter now firmly between us. It was almost like he knew I wasn’t going to escape.
That was why he’d let me lock the doors and hang up my bag with my cell inside before letting me know he was here.
He wanted to make sure there wasno escape.
No one to call.
This entire situation was calculated.
“What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?” I demanded, my voice cracking despite trying to keep my tone steady and calm like I wasn’t fucking petrified.
In my mind, I was trying to list the items in the apartment, things I could use as a weapon that would do enough damage to at least slow him down.
“She is the chosen one.”
“Chosen for what?” My hand settled on the drawer handle, and I slowly inched it out, gritting my teeth as I reached inside. The cool metal handle of a butcher’s knife felt like heaven against my skin, but I didn’t risk rattling everything else inside to grab it.
He took another step toward me, and my stomach twisted.
I wanted to puke.
Or pass out.
Or both.
Fight.
You have to fucking fight because if he kills you, he’s going to leave here and go looking for Kadey.
If you don’t get out of this alive, you can’t protect her.
“Where. Is. She,” he finally snapped, stepping up to the other side of the island and slamming his hands down on the counter. “I will find her, one way or another.”
