The sound of someone rattling the lock on my front door had me wide awake in less than a second. I grabbed my phone and saw it was only midnight Jumping from my bed, not wanting to turn on a light, and searching for a weapon. Fuck I didn’t have anything, I was a seamstress. Gripping the only thing I could find– a knitting needle for lace–it would have to do. At least the mother fucker was sharp. Moving out of my bedroom, I tried to slow my breathing, maybe it was just one of my neighbors, drunk and they accidentally hit my door. Nope, not a neighbor, the rattling sound was at my door definitely coming from my apartment doorknob. Clutching the knitting needle tight in my hand, I slid against my wall trying not to cast any shadows with the moon light that peered in through my few windows. Looking down I realized that my phone was still in my hand so I sent a quick text off to Kayson with one word: Help. Would he come, was he already asleep?

Then dialed nine-one-one.

“Nine-one-one. Police, fire, or medical?”

“Police.”

“Can you tell me your location?”

“I live at the Coconut Bay Apartments off Conroy, unit 214.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Ariel Beaumont.”

“Okay Ariel, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Someone is trying to break into my apartment. Hurry.”

“Ariel, I need you to find a safe place to hide, can you do that? I’ll stay on the phone. We have deputies on their way. They should be there any second.”

My phone vibrated and made a loud ding sound to alert me of an incoming call. I flipped the silence button. The call came in again, this time the phone vibrated but even on vibrate it made a sound, I looked and saw Kayson’s name appear on the screen. The nine-one-one operator was talking to me, and I could hear her even though the phone wasn’t against my head. Shit. Fuck. I was so fucking confused, Kayson kept calling, the nine-one-one operator was still talking, and I needed everyone to just be quiet so I could think and hide. I powered off the phone to keep anyone from calling back or the hum of vibration making a rumbling sound and giving away my hiding spot.

Escape.

Hide.

Fight.

The words ran through my mind, first I needed to try to escape. If I couldn’t, then I had to hide. My last resort—I would fight. It was what you were supposed to do in a dangerous situation. Escape was out of the question unless I wanted to climb out a window and drop two stories to the ground.

Hide. Shit. My apartment was small. They would check my bedroom first, so that was out of the question. Not the fucking bathroom, which would be the second place they checked. Even in horror movies, the slasher opened the shower curtains. Fuck, images from the movie Psycho flashed across my mind. That left the living room, which was full of sewing stuff. I raked my hands through my hair, trying to find a place to hide. Panic bubbling, threatening to spill over, as I searched. Finally, desperate and on the verge of tears, my eyes fell on my garbage can. It was huge. Between sewing scraps and household trash, I had gotten tired of constantly emptying normal size cans, so I had bought an industrial can. I grabbed the plastic bag liner and pulled it out before jumping in and pulling the bag back over me.

A grunt and a clank was followed by someone mumbling, “Fuck” just as my door opened and I settled the lid back into place.

I heard them, two men talking.

“Fuck. This time we won’t get paid if we don’t grab her,” one man said.

This time? Grab me? Ice slid down my spine. Were they the same guys who attacked me the first time? Why were they looking for me? I thought of Kayson, great, I was still trying to figure out whether he was one of the rare good guys of the world, and if these guys found me, I may not ever have the chance to find out. I wanted that date, the one I concocted in my brain, the one I wanted to take him on to show him that I was willing to try, not totally commit, but I was willing to try to see if we had something.

My mind was everywhere, bouncing through every thought that I’d had over the last forty-eight hours. Every sound amplified, punctuated by the rapid thumping of my frantic heart. I couldn’t see anything. Whoever was in my apartment moved across the room, I felt the vibration from their heavy footsteps.

I jerked at the sound of sirens and then clamped my hands over my mouth.

“We gotta go, man. The cops.”

“I need that fucking money.”

“Just tell him we will try again. No clue why we’re doing this in the first place. Just supposed to scare the bitch. I can’t even touch her. Have you seen her?”

The floor shook again as they ran. I heard my door open and slam shut. Something about his words, “Just supposed to scare her” echoed in my head. I’d heard that voice before saying those same words.

It seemed like the two men ran out hours ago, but in all actuality, it was probably only a minute or two. The silence was heavy, suffocating. Still, I left my hands over my mouth and tried to ignore the way my pulse violently thundered through my ears. As much as I wanted to be left alone, I needed to hear something, anything. I needed to know what was going on, was I alone?

Shouts rang out; my front door banged open, I felt the quake as a herd of elephants trampled into my tiny apartment.

“Police!” someone shouted.

“Anything?” a male voice asked.

I waited, slowly moving my trembling hands away from mouth so I could wipe the tears from my eyes. Then I heard Kayson.

“Where is she?”

“Sir, the apartment is empt—”

“Fucking find her now!”

“Here,” I said. My voice came out as a croak. “I’m in here,” I said a little louder. “I’m in the garbage can.” I didn’t finish the last word because the lid was off, the bag pulled free, and fresh cold air rushed over me as I locked on to chocolate eyes.

“Beautiful.” That single word came from Kayson’s mouth as he let out a whoosh of breath.

Gut wrenching sobs overtook me as I realized that he had rescued me, again. Between heaves, I repeated, “Escape, hide, fight,” as I raised my arms, silently asking him to help me out.

He placed his hands under my arms, lifted me out of the can, set me on my feet, and cradled me close to his chest. My back rested against his forearm, his hand holding my neck. With no other option, I met his gaze, and then his mouth captured mine, commanding my lips to let him lead. I handed over the control and invited him to deepen the kiss. All I had said was “help” and he came, ready to fight for me, rescue me. Slowly, Kayson pulled away from the kiss and dropped his forehead to mine before moving his hands to cup my cheeks.

“You okay?” I nodded. “What happened?”

“Bedroom’s clear,” a voice called from the back of my apartment a moment before another deputy stepped into my living room.

“Not sure. I woke, I think it was from the rattling sound I heard at my door, so I called nine-one-one and hid.”

“Do you have any idea who it was? Did you see them?”

I bit my lips and shook my head. “No, I didn’t see who it was. It was two men, though. I heard them talking.” Burying my face into my hands, I tried to erase the memories of the night I ran through the parking lot, and for the first time I pictured Crabbe and Goyle from the Harry Potter movies. “You’re going to think this sounds bizarre, but I think they were the same guys that attacked me, and for some reason, I think they looked like characters from a Harry Potter movie.”

“Could you describe them if we got a sketch artist?” Carter wanted to solve this mystery as much as Kayson.

“No. I really picture Crabbe and Goyle from the movies. But one of them had a Hispanic accent.”

“We’re going to find out who’s behind all of this,” Kayson assured me. He moved to the couch and settled me next to him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me held tight.

My apartment was flooded with cops, which probably wasn’t standard, but I didn’t complain. Cabinets opened, doors closed, men and women moved through my tiny space, searching for any evidence. Piper came in, and as she moved toward me, her radio made a loud static sound. Everyone froze, and the room fell silent. Kayson placed his finger against my lips. Not knowing what was happening, I watched with wide eyes as she unhooked her radio and moved it around the area. When she got closer to my couch, the static turned to a screech. Kayson stood, pulling me with him so Piper could move her radio around the couch. Into my ear, he whispered, “Don’t say a word.”

After pulling on a pair of gloves, Piper slid her hands between the cushions of my couch, underneath the base, and unzipped each pillow. Eventually, she stood and held out what looked like an old Junior Mint candy. The closer the candy got to the radio, the louder the screech, she placed it in an evidence bag and left my apartment. But still, no one said a word. Carter held his finger against his lips, telling everyone to remain quiet.

Kayson settled back down on the couch and positioned me on his lap. Piper returned a few minutes later with a handheld device that looked like a giant television clicker. She swept it from corner to corner of my apartment, moved it under my bed, in my closet, and even inside my shoes. When she finished, Kayson relaxed.

“All clear?” Kayson asked.

“Seems like that was the only one,” Piper said as she turned to me. “Do you remember the static from my radio when I walked in?”

“How could I not?”

“That was a bug. Thankfully, it appeared to be only audio. We’ll turn it over to our forensics division, and they will get the FBI involved to see what they can trace as far as signal or how far the range was.”

I took a deep, shaking breath. “You’re serious? Someone bugged my apartment. FBI?”

“Ariel, don’t freak. FBI involvement is normal, we don’t have that kind of equipment.” Piper looked at Kayson and Carter. “Maybe one of you can give Eli a heads up.” They both nodded.

“Who’s been in your apartment lately?” Kayson tightened his grip around me as he asked.

“That’s easy until recently, I haven’t had a life. So no one other than you and Stella, not even Leo and Piper have been in my apartment. I haven’t even had workers here, I installed the new deadbolt and security chain.”

“How about before Stella and me?” Kayson was fishing for something. I could hear it in his voice. “Let’s say before your attack. Since you moved in.”

“My landlord. My ex, but I only dated him a few months.”

“No one else?” Kayson tilted his head to the side as if asking me to think harder.

“No. I don’t know anyone else. Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Was it the ex we met today at lunch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Stay calm, Kayson,” Piper instructed him. “Have you seen him other than at lunch today?”

“Yeah. Which, to be honest, has started freaking me out, then tonight he was outside my apartment waiting for me, but I told him to get lost.”

“Wait a fucking minute? Who is this boyfriend, is it the same one that came to the hospital when I was coming up?”

“Yeah, that’s the one and only, his name is Brandon, he’s a district attorney.”

“Wait. A. Fucking. Minute. Your ex is Brandon Fagan? The guy whose new mission in life was to make me miserable, that Brandon Fagan?”

“I’m taking it you know him?” I guess it wasn’t that big of a stretch that they would know each other.

“Yeah. I know him. And now it all makes sense,” Kayson said.

“What does?”

“That was what you were referring to today in my office, wasn’t it? Ariel is why he keeps mysteriously not having paperwork.” He looked over at Piper as he said the last part, and she nodded.

“It makes sense, so much fucking sense, un-fucking-believable.”

“Wait.” They both turned to me. “You guys don’t think that he bugged my apartment, do you? He’s the DA.”

“It appears that whoever planted the bug knew about everything going on in here,” Piper explained.

Kayson reminded me of a wolf, with teeth bared and the scent of blood in his nose.

“Ariel, I will tell you what’s going on with Brandon later.” He kissed my temple. “Promise.”

“If it was him . . .” Carter was careful with his wording since he obviously knew just how close to the edge Kayson was. “That doesn’t explain the break in.” Carter focused on me. “What did you hear, did they say anything, anything that might give us a clue of their identity besides the fact one had a Hispanic accent?”

I shook my head and stood. I needed something to drink, and I needed breathing room. My God, I couldn’t remember ever being so thirsty in my entire life. I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to form saliva. Kayson stood and reached for my hand, but I pulled it away.

“Don’t,” I ordered Kayson and moved to the kitchen for a bottle of water. I wasn’t trying to be mean, but right then, everything was bothering me. Even the seams of my clothes bothered me. They were rubbing my skin raw. Kayson followed me but kept two steps behind.

I took a long swig, water dribbling down my chin as my hands shook. “One of them said that they wouldn’t get paid this time if they didn’t grab me. But the other guy said he didn’t understand why they were doing this since they were only supposed to scare me.” I took another long drink. “It was the same thing the guy said the night I was attacked.” I had this panicky feeling deep in my stomach. I didn’t want to relive that night. I just wanted them to catch the bad guys and put them behind bars, I didn’t want this.

Kayson rubbed my back and asked, “Did they say anything else?”

“They said that if they didn’t find me they’d try again.”

“Fuck. You can’t stay here alone, Ariel. Stay with me for a bit? Just until we figure out who’s behind this?” Kayson pleaded. “They’re gonna see what they can get from the bug. Maybe they’ll be able to trace it.”

Brandon may be a douche but he was a concerned douche. I didn’t think he had anything to do with the break-in or my attack, intelligent people didn’t risk careers for this shit, they just didn’t. But I had a pesky thought in the back of my head, masterminds were just that, they were smart, they had a master mind.

Those niggling thoughts helped me make a speedy decision. “Let me pack some stuff.” I raced back to my bedroom.