Isabella
CJ’s cabin is bigger than most people’s homes. Made of logs, it sits in the middle of the forest, just outside of Bear Mountain State Park. There’s not a friggin’ house around for miles. However, it’s got an incredibly fast internet and I’m stoked to start working. Anything’s better than to dwell on the mess I’ve made of my life.
Slate’s friend Carl is a nice guy but his presence is a constant reminder that someone may be trying to kill me. He’s playing solitaire in the living room with eyes on three monitors, constantly switching between the outside cameras.
Earlier, I warmed up a frozen pizza and shared it with him. If I wasn’t already gone over Grayson, this guy would have my hormones racing, even though he probably has twenty years on me.
“You really think all this is necessary?” I ask again.
He sighs, glances at the screen, then at me. “Someone tried to run you over. This kind of thing has a tendency to escalate.”
“But why? I’m a nobody.”
He shrugs, blue eyes piercing. “Hard to say. There’s lots of crazies out there. I’m sure it will all become clear soon enough. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? In the morning, I’ll send for one of my pals and catch a few z’s.”
“Thanks. For doing this.”
He smiles. “I get paid well but damsels in distress is one of my favorite jobs.”
I head back to the kitchen table but keep seeing that poor girl’s battered body. It should be me lying in a hospital unconscious, not her.
Rather than focus my attention uselessly, I peruse my favorite sites for work. Pretty soon I have a potential set of clients. Then, I insert my resume into a program for best key words. It also will direct people to Linked In, where I have multiple profiles.
If the recruiters use the standard search engines, I’ll have plenty of work by week’s end which is good because no matter what happens, I need to quit my job at Patten.
That done, I open the well-stocked kitchen, make breakfast, and work out in an NFL star’s gym. Staying at Mel’s cabin has some serious perks. Her husband’s workout space takes up the whole basement.
While I run on the treadmill, I think of her relationship with her quarterback hottie. Despite a really rough start, they are so damn cute together and love each other so much. I imagine having something like that with Grayson, then shake it out of my thoughts. I got too many issues. Whereas Mel has had years of therapy, I just started. My psychologist has had a field day pointing out all the ways I fuck up royally.
After taking a shower, I put some logs on the fire, find a dog-eared paperback, and curl up in a huge lounge chair. With a warm granny-square afghan wrapped around me, it’s so comfy, I fall asleep almost immediately.
Suddenly, a loud bang wakes me.
“Carl?” I whisper into the darkness, lit only by the fire’s dying embers and wait for his answer which doesn’t come.
Shivering, I reach and turn the knob on the reading lamp but the bulb must’ve gone out. That’s what I pray as I feel my way along the wall for the overhead switch.
Dammit.
Nothing happens when I toggle it repeatedly. With my heart thumping like mad, I feel my way back to my chair to find my cell phone. The charger clanks onto the floor as I pull it clear.
Shit. Where the hell is my body guard?
Twigs crack on the deck outside, the door handle rattles, and I drop onto my hands and knees.
Fumbling, I check for bars and when I find none, shut off my phone.
This is so not good.
Footsteps outside tell me I’ve got seconds to do something if I’m to survive.
Thank God, I’m such a slob because my coat and boots are lying by the door. As I grab them glass breaks in the kitchen and men start cursing.
“Where is she?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Heart pounding, I dash my bare feet up the stairs, into the bathroom, and lock the door. Below, there’s shouts and another gun goes off.
I can’t stay put so step onto the toilet, open the window, and squeeze through. With my boots and coat in tow, I inch my butt to the edge of the roof. The drop is about eight feet but the snow is pretty deep so hopefully, I won’t break a leg.
After throwing my stuff onto the ground, I grab the gutter with a death-grip and slowly swing my legs around and just dangle.
Then, I let go.
The snow burns my feet as I sink deep but I hardly notice. I need to get up on that ridge and make a call for help if I’m going to live through this night.