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I started to run again.
“Drop me a location pin, sweetheart. Okay? Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” I said, at the last second lurching through a door and into the stairwell.
Up or down? I debated.
“Do it now,” Ben said, his voice so urgent and worried that my brain finally seemed to clear.
I pulled the phone down, hitting the screen a few times and sending him my location.
The door behind me opened, and I rushed up the stairs.
I’d literally just become the girl who ran up the stairs to get away from a murderer. I was pathetic. I learned nothing from watching all those movies.
“I got it. Good girl. You did so good.” His praise overruled the insults I’d just been hurling at myself, and I was instantaneously distracted by the fact he’d said them.
More. I want to hear more.
A hand slammed down on my shoulder, wrenching me around. The phone fell out of my hand, hitting the top of my foot and clattering down two stairs before stopping to teeter precariously on the edge.
An angry yank to my ponytail wrenched my head so far back that I was forced to look up into the stairwell where the floors rose. I panted, teetering midflight as I tried to decide what I should do.
A pale blob floated into my line of sight, and I blinked against blurred vision as a face appeared, leaning over the railing above. Unease tangled around me like vines as they stared down, almost uninterested in my plight.
Another vicious yank to my hair made me stumble as I was partly dragged up the rest of the stairs. Away from my phone.
“I didn’t see anything!” I said, the frantic plea a complete lie.
Now I know why the girls in these killer movies act like such morons. Fear chases away all intelligence and leaves behind nothing but straight idiocy. I mean, damn, I had to send Ben a location pin instead of just telling him the building.
My scalp screamed with burning pain as we came to a stop at the top of the stairs, and I was basically shoved into the wall. A grunt forced its way out of me when I hit, but I had no time to recover before being wrenched back once more. My heaving breaths stuttered when lips brushed against the shell of my ear, the voice lifting goose bumps along the back of my neck.
“You’re a terrible liar. But no matter. It doesn’t matter what you saw because dead girls don’t talk.”
I gasped, heart jumping into my throat. “Please! No—”
My body went airborne, feet grappling to find the ground.
And then I found it.
Crack!
But not with my feet.
My body was like a ragdoll, smacking into the unforgiving stairs as I trundled down, every inch of me pummeled by pain.
I wanted it to stop.
And then it did.
3
Kruger
I expected to get a front-row seat to Elite’s newest shit show right there in the parking lot. So, frankly, it offended me that everything looked all tits and gravy because I knew damn well it wasn’t.
The longer I went without eyes on that girl, the closer I got to losing what little cool I had left.
