I draw in a thick, shaky breath. The heat chokes me as I step outside the building. My chest spasms. He’s here. I see him. My body is hard, heavy, and immobile. Help. I want to say the word, but I can’t make my mouth function. Air. I can’t breathe.

“Abby?” Sterling touches my shoulder.

I shove my breath out, suck in another. Once I feel my legs, I spin toward the café. I should be safe in there. The air-conditioning is cold enough to shock me back into reality.

One, two, three, four, five. I count the quartz, then pull the rubber band and begin to count again. The steady count inside my head helps me regulate my breathing. Everything is coming back into focus until a big bang and a shattering sound explodes inside my head. I freeze in shock, staring at the busy counter and the people laughing as if nothing has happened.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sterling squats right next to me as I’m trying to bring my breathing under control.

Fucking panic attacks. I should get myself committed. Those men upstairs messed with my head. Of course, Corbin isn’t here, nor Shaun. I’m safe.

“I should leave tomorrow,” I say as I gasp for air.

“You have to finish the wire transfers and make sure that you have everything you need to work remotely,” he reminds me. “On Wednesday we can leave for Nebraska.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“It sounds like a fun road trip. I was hoping you’d let me join you.”

I clench my eyes shut and swallow my words and my thoughts. He wants to join me, but the man I want with me is his brother, who doesn’t care about my feelings. As much as I love Wes, right now, I hate him.

“Hey, girl!” Peyton’s shrilly voice perforates the haze in my head.

“Well, hello,” Sterling, who can’t seem to stop flirting, is already winking at her and sending a melting smirk.

“Here, I brought you some lemonade. You don’t look so good.” She hands me a cup. I smile but don’t accept it. If I drink anything, I’m going to puke.

“Thank you, I’m fine,” I lie.

“Well, do you think you’re well enough to come with me tonight? Grandma would love to see you.”

I tremble. Even thinking about going near my old house makes me nauseated. I smile at her though. She doesn’t have to know that her neighbor is a dangerous person. The less people who know, the better.

“I wish I could, but I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows pull together, her gaze narrows on the window. “Leaving?”

“Yeah, taking a break.”

“Didn’t you just move back in Denver?”

I open my mouth and close it trying to remember what I told her.

“Hey,” Sterling interrupts us. “Why don’t you two catch up while I go and run some errands. I’ll be back with your car later today.”

“Excellent idea,” Peyton says clapping excitedly. “Tell me all about this trip you’re planning.”

Thank you, Slugger, I think as he leaves.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Peyton insists, but I shake my head walking to the soda station and grabbing a cup of water.

“The lemonade would’ve helped more.”

“Thank you.” I try not to snarl at her, but she’s driving me insane.

“Let me run to the employee room. I’ll be right back.” She walks away but stops at a booth and picks up a doll. It’s gray and raggedy.

I take a step backward; it’s almost exactly like Ava’s old doll.

“Hey,” Wes’ voice snaps me out of the trance that the toy put me in. “Are you okay?”

Going crazy, but fine. I turn around to check on Peyton. She’s gone, and so is the doll. Did I imagine it?

“Why are you here?”

“Sterling told me he left you alone.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say between clenched teeth. “Actually, I’m going back to work. My appetite is gone.”

He frowns. “You’re not hungry?”

“Yeah, I know,” I roll my eyes. “I never thought I’d say that. But it happens.”

I’m emotionally and physically drained. I’ve been working all day on the applications. Wiring money and requesting more information. Wes kept watching me. He brought me dinner around five and reminded me that I had to head home early. Thankfully, he had a meeting in Golden which is an hour drive from home.

By eight, the only one left around the offices is me. I can see why Wes likes to arrive earlier than everyone and leave later. The silence allows me to work faster and think better. I’m done going through all the applications we received this year. Sending one last email requesting more information from an applicant who forgot to send it, I shut down my computer. My phone rings as I gather all my things.

It’s a text from Wes.

Wes: You’re not home yet.

Me: How do you know that?

Is he here? I unlock my door and check on his office door which is closed. I take a look around the empty building floor. It’s well illuminated, but quiet.

Wes: Sterling just texted me.

Sterling should be minding his own business.

Wes: Are you alone?

Abby: That’s a strange question. The security guard is around.

Wes: Head home. You’re not safe.

He’s being paranoid. We have security cameras on every floor.

But I take his advice and pack up to leave. The garage is just as safe. My car is on the far end close to the garage exit, away from the elevators. Only a few more cars remain in the underground garage. When I pull the car door handle as I’m about to climb in, I see writing on my windshield.

You can’t hide from me, bitch.

My heart stutters in my chest and my body trembles. I scan the entire area, holding my breath as panic overtakes me. There’s nothing here. I take a picture because this can’t just be my mind playing tricks on me.

Who is doing this? Earlier it was Ava’s old doll that jarred me. A toy that looked so much like it was in the booth, then in Peyton’s hands before they both disappeared. Someone left it at the café on purpose. It’s not my imagination; he’s watching me.

Cold shivers run down my spine. I jump in the car and pull out of the parking lot as fast as I can. In less than ten minutes I’m turning left on Quebec Street. That’s the beauty of the streets in the area, they’re almost empty at night. The downside, the fucking traffic cameras. I’m positive that I’ll be getting a few tickets for going over fifty miles per hour where the speed limit was thirty-five.

Once I enter the underground garage, I pull out my whistle and run to my apartment. My breathing is shallow from running from my parking spot to the stairs and all the way up. I know that I’m safe. No one can break into this building. My throat closes when I realize that whoever left the message on my windshield already accessed the highly secured parking lot at our offices without raising any red flags.

Nothing will stop them from breaking into my apartment.

I jolt when my phone rings. It’s Wes. I want to let it go to voicemail and answer it at the same time.

Wes: Abby, pick up the fucking phone. I need to know where you are?

“Hey,” I gasp for air.

“Why are you out of breath?”

“I decided to run up the stairs?”

“Abigail, is everything okay?” His voice carries more worry than what I feel.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I dare to ask.

Is he hiding something from me? Should I tell him what happen or just let it go?

“I’m on my way home,” he announces, I hear the engine come to life.

“Stop worrying about me. Everything is fine. I should be out of your hair soon.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he barks. “Maybe I didn’t handle things the way I should have when you told me, but the last thing I want is to lose you, Abby.”

Is it? Because he’s pushing me further and further away.

“What’s happening?” His voice mellows.

Nothing is happening. So what if they are watching me? There’s nothing they can do to me that they haven’t already done. I don’t hang up but debate about what to tell him. In the meantime, I get water from the kitchen and look into ordering some food online. Maybe we can share one last meal. If I skip town tomorrow, I should be in Nebraska by evening or maybe Chicago if I drive twenty-hours straight. Sterling might indulge me.

Instead, I decide to order food from the Greek place downstairs and just pick it up.

“Souvlaki?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry, unless I feel sick,” I remind him.

“Order a combination platter, too,” he suggests.

I hang up with him and place my order. They promise to have it ready in twenty-minutes. I hop in the shower and afterwards change into a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and my Berkeley sweatshirt. I set my phone inside of my kangaroo pocket along with my credit card. My legs are still shaky from earlier. I decide to take the elevator. As I’m going out, I receive a text.

Sterling: You want to hang out tonight?

Abby: If you want to join us, we’re having Greek.

Sterling: Wes is joining us?

Abby: Yeah.

Sterling: You two should figure out your shit. He’s heartbroken just like you.

Abby: It’s better this way. He’ll find someone soon. He always does.

I push the door open and walk toward the restaurant which is only a few steps from the door.

“Hello, Abigail.” My back stiffens as I hear those words. That voice.

“Shaun,” I say turning to my left.

He doesn’t look much different. His eyes still look lost and his body fit enough to look healthy but not strong. I could maybe take him. But I should really run.

“Your bodyguards aren’t with you?” He says, his eyes looking around.

I hold onto the phone and move my fingers fast texting Sterling.

“Put the phone down,” Shaun orders me, pulling out his jacket slightly.

I notice the gun. Before I do what he orders, I glance at the screen and set my finger on the arrow to record voice messages, then shove my hand along with the phone inside my pocket.

“What do you want?”

“You don’t seem too afraid.” He takes a step forward. “You never were easily frightened. The little brave bitch who always fought me. Dad’s waiting for you.”

“I don’t care,” I say with conviction. “Go away or I’ll call the police.”

“Dad doesn’t get you, but I do.” He lifts his hands as if he’s about to touch me, and I take a step backward.

“Stay away from me.”

“Dad swore that you’d come easily,” he says. “But he doesn’t know you as well as I do.”

He licks his lips. “You like it rough.”

“I don’t like anything.”

“Don’t lie to me, bitch. You like it when I rough you up. You think you’re better than us because you lived with those rich fuckers. I’ll have to remind you who you are, whore.” He laughs.

His hot, rancid breath hits the back of my nose. He’s close enough that I lift my knee and hit him in his junk. I run toward the restaurant, hit send to the message, and call Wes.

“He’s here,” I say gasping for air. “Shaun. He has a gun.”

“Where are you?” His voice is urgent.

“Inside the restaurant.”

“Stay where you are,” he orders. “Please, don’t move. I’m calling the police.”

“They can’t do anything,” I insist. Why can’t he believe me that the police are either powerless or they’re their accomplices.

“Abigail,” Shaun’s voice is colder. “Have you heard of leverage?”

“I explained to my father that you wouldn’t come willingly.” He grins with satisfaction, showing me his phone. It’s a picture of Peyton tied up in a trunk. “But you’ll do anything for your friends, won’t you?”

“She’s nothing to me,” I control my emotions.

“I beg to differ. Her grandma has so many stories about the two of you hanging out together.”

I shrug. “That was years ago.”

“Then I can tell Daddy to play with her and you wouldn’t care?”

My blood freezes. “She’s not your father’s type.”

“We’re all his type,” he says, emphasizing the words.

I forget that Shaun isn’t just his father’s accomplice, he’s also his victim.

“Are you going to kill Peyton just like you killed Ava?”

His words hit me hard in the stomach. “I didn’t do anything to Ava,” I say weakly, knowing that I did. “You shot her. Not me.”

“You let her die. After you, we had to move away and find new girls because you left to live a lush life. You murdered my sister and now, you’re killing Peyton too.”

I cover my ears. He’s wrong. I didn’t do anything. He pulled the trigger; it wasn’t me.

“Come with me, Abigail,” he says, grabbing my elbow. “You’re a good girl, and you want to save Peyton.”

I do. She has a grandmother who counts on her and once she finishes her teaching degree she’s going to make a difference.

“You swear you’re going to release Peyton?”

“She’ll be free to do whatever she wants.” He crosses his heart and smiles. “I knew you’d see things my way. You always do.”

“The only reason I’m following you, Shaun, is because I hope that this can be the end.”

“It’ll be the end of you. If you beg nicely I might not make you suffer too much.” He winks at me with a look in his eyes that’s meant to scare me, but it doesn’t.

This is over. It might be my moment to surrender, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me suffer. I’ll pass from this earth with dignity.

Goodbye, Wes.

To be continued …