I hear Scout whine behind me as I open the door, and I glance back long enough to tell him, “Be a good boy. I’ll be right back,” before shutting him inside and locking the door. I hurry out to the truck, remote in hand, which I use to unlock it before I even reach the tall, black vehicle. Heart pounding, I yank open the door as soon as I grasp the handle, pull myself up into the driver seat, and then slam and lock the door behind me. I start the truck, letting out a nervous laugh and shaking my head.
“Calm the hell down, Astrid,” I whisper to myself. “He doesn’t know where you are.” But even as I say the words, I glance in all the mirrors, and even turn around to check the back seat for anyone who might be hiding back there, waiting to attack.
Feeling vulnerable, even behind the tinted windows and locked doors, I put the truck in reverse then make my way out onto the main road. Within minutes, I arrive at my apartment and park in the underground garage. Thankfully, the space right next to the elevator is open. As I turn off the engine, I grab my purse and look around through the windows, trying to see if there’s any sign of Brandon hiding between the parked cars.
“You’re being paranoid. Just get in quick, grab your shit, and get back to Neil’s,” I say aloud, now uncaring how crazy I sound talking to not only a dog but to myself as well. The pep talk gives me the courage I need to spring from the truck, slamming the door unnecessarily hard as I bolt to the elevator, rapidly pushing the button over and over, even though I know it won’t make it open any faster. I press my back to the wall and face the garage while I wait, my breath coming in short, quick pants as my heart pounds in my ears, my eyes continuously scanning the parking lot. I keep the keys gripped in my hand, wishing I had brought some sort of weapon with me just in case. Being so used to never going anywhere, staying hidden away, I hadn’t thought of having to protect myself until this very moment.
Finally, the elevator dings, the sound obscenely loud in the otherwise eerily silent parking garage. I peek in, seeing it’s empty inside the car, and hurry in, pushing the button for my apartment floor. Anxiety fills me when it comes to a stop and the doors slide open. I step forward, leaning just my head out of the elevator to look up and down the hall. And it’s not until I see there’s not a single soul around that I finally relax. I quickly reach my door, unlock it, slip inside, relock it, and collapse against the smooth surface.
“Jesus fuck,” I breathe, feeling completely drained once the tension leaves my body. But I don’t give myself very long to enjoy it. “In and out,” I remind myself, and I start gathering the short list of things I want to bring with me before I go down to the office to pick up my shipment of makeup.
I go into the bathroom and grab the tampons I’ll need soon, knowing full well I’d be mortified if I had to ask the handsome therapist to buy me some at the store. He’s kind and easy to talk to and makes me feel safe in a way I didn’t know existed, but asking him to buy my feminine products is more than I could take. Sure, he’s an adult, and a doctor no less. But for some reason it seems like that’s something really intimate to ask a man for, something only a wife would ask her husband to do for her, and only if her husband was a special kind of guy.
Brandon had most certainly not been that kind of guy. My period every month was the only week I got any sort of peace. He wouldn’t even make me sleep next to him during those blissful five days, the mere thought of the blood disgusting him.
I shake myself out of the memory, leaning over the tub to grab my bottle of body wash. And that’s when I hear it.
Rattling.
What is that? The subtle sound of metal against metal coming from the living room. Almost like a key entering a lock, but not. More like scratching and tapping.
My heart pounds in my ears, nearly blocking out the noise as I slowly peek out of the bathroom toward the front door. And to my horror, I see where the sound is coming from as it ends with a click, the knob turns, and the door slowly opens. As the tall male figure comes through the door, I take a deep breath to let out a blood-curdling scream, but swallow it as soon as I see Neil’s handsome face in the lamp’s light. I grow lightheaded at the roller coaster of adrenaline and relief, emptying my lungs as I collapse against the bathroom’s doorframe.