Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I already had his address plugged into my GPS, since I still didn’t know many of the streets in the area yet.
“Good enough,” I decided, clipping my compact closed and tossing it into my purse before pulling it up on my shoulder.
I was still mussing up my hair as I reached to open the door.
Only to have it fly forward into me, the corner catching me in the face.
The pain shot through my cheek, making my eyes water, making my vision go wonky as my brain scrambled to figure out what just happened.
Someone pushed the door open.
When I was supposed to be alone.
I’d locked up the garage.
After walking around with a tire iron to make sure no one was around.
But someone was here.
Someone had broken in.
Or, worse yet, someone had let themselves in.
An employee.
My stomach twisted.
But before I could even work myself into an appropriate panic, the intruder grabbed the door, pulled it back, and slammed it forward again.
It caught me square in the nose, the pain overwhelming as blood trickled down my face and into my mouth, copper exploding across my taste buds.
Somehow that shocked me out of my stupor.
I had to get out.
But the only exit was straight through the attacker.
My gaze slid wildly around the office, looking for something—anything—I could use to defend myself.
There were pens on the desk.
And while, yes, I was sure one would be pretty effective when stabbed into someone’s eye, I didn’t feel too confident in my ability to actually do that. I felt sick just at the thought of it.
I had an umbrella in the stand.
Open, it could keep someone from grabbing me. And it had that little hard plastic nub at the end that I could, I don’t know, ram into someone.
I had my Uncle Phil’s old brass bass paperweight on one of the filing cabinets.
Decision made, I flew at it, my fingers closing around its comforting solidness.
I blinked tears out of my eyes and rushed back toward the door.
Only to find the space now abandoned.
Was I wrong?
Had it just been a normal robbery? Someone who thought the place was closed and saw an opportunity to steal something? But when they found someone hanging around, they panicked and ran?
I debated the merit of staying inside my office, locking the door, and calling the police.
But it was a rickety old door. And there was no other exit from the room. I’d be trapped.
If no one was around, making a mad dash for an exit was the best bet. If I saw even a shadow dancing across the wall, though, I’d lock myself in.
Decision made, I inched around the door.
My heartbeat was thrumming in my chest as a slow trickle of blood continued to drip. I tried to keep my lips closed, making the drops slide down my chin and catch on my chest, but when I tried to suck in air through my nostrils, blood slipped down the back of my throat, choking me.
Sucking in a greedy open-mouth breath, I leaned my head out of the doorway.
The blow came from the side, whacking me hard enough on the back of the neck to make me fall to my knees.
The impact had pain ratcheting up through my thighs and hips, dragging a cry out of me.
But I couldn’t stop to worry about my knees, about hospital trips and recovery.
There would be no recovering if I couldn’t get away.
I scrambled away on all fours, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. Grit ripped at my palms and legs, raking across my skin, mingling with the grease and grime on the floor.
Behind me came a dark chuckle, making my belly flip, realizing they were enjoying my panic, my pathetic attempt at escape.
There was a load-bearing beam to my side; I reached out toward it, ready to pull myself up off the floor. When a foot landed a kick to my ass, sending me flying forward.
And with my arm outstretched, there was no bracing my fall.
I’d cursed being top-heavy any time I tried to buy new clothes. But just this once, I was glad for being well-endowed in the chest area, as my chest cushioned my fall, preventing my whole face from whacking off the unforgiving cement floor.
As it was, my forehead cracked off the floor slightly, making my vision swim for a horrifying second.
But I didn’t pass out.
I had to get up.
I had to get away.
Ignoring the pain in my ripped-up palms and my aching knees, I pushed up onto all fours again.
There was a door across the shop.
I was halfway there.
I just had to get to my feet and run for my life.
Throw the locks.
Rush outside.
Scream like a freaking banshee.
Run right into the street if I had to.
Seeing a woman bleeding down her face? Someone would stop. Someone would help.
Pushing past the pain, I got myself to my feet.