I took in a deep breath and gripped the rod. I propped it against the door and used it to pull the switch of the lock down. Click.
The door opened.
I yelled and ran at him. The rod hit his stomach. He jumped back and grabbed it with both hands.
I kept charging forward. Michael fell to the floor and pulled the rod from me.
I didn’t look back. I ran down the corridor. I turned left and found myself in the kitchen. It looked vaguely familiar, but from the two open doors on either side I couldn’t remember which one led to the front door.
I ran toward the right. I crossed the threshold and beyond the small entryway I saw the front door. In two steps, I’d reached it. I tried to open it, but it was locked. As I searched for the lock, a hand came around me, covered my mouth and yanked me back.
I kicked and thrashed. I felt my feet hit his legs and my elbows hit his chest.
Then an arm wrapped around my neck. The door, at arm’s reach in front of me, faded to black and disappeared.
I don’t know how long I was out—long enough for Michael to have stuffed a hand towel in my mouth and tied my hands behind my back. I sat on the floor, my back against the wall, the bed to my left and the nightstand lay toppled over to my right.
I tried to speak, but the towel muffled my voice. I tried to spit it out, but it was stuffed in too far.
Michael sat on the bed, his elbow resting on his knee, holding an ice pack to the side of his face. He must have heard me murmur, because he turned to me and lifted his head off the ice pack. “I had to tie you up. You understand? You were acting crazy, throwing things, locking yourself in the bathroom then attacking me with a shower rod.”
He set his head back on the ice and continued, “But I don’t blame you. You’d been drinking. You’re not yourself. Who knows what your boyfriend in San Diego did to you.”
He lifted his head. I could only see the side of his face, the corner of his eye, but I saw plenty of rage. He gritted his teeth then threw the ice pack against the wall. Smack! Shards of ice shot out in all directions.
He stood from the bed and lumbered to the door. He stopped at the threshold and, without looking at me, said, “Things will get better. You just need time.” He pulled something out of his breast pocket. When he turned to me, I saw that he had my phone in his hand. “By the way, I saw that you’ve got two text messages, one from a Christy and another from a Holly. They both want to know where you are.”
He chuckled and put the phone back in his pocket. “I’m glad you didn’t tell anyone where you were going. That’s good. That will give us all the time you need.” He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.
20
Axel
The last time we’d all ridden in the SUV with Santiago at the wheel, we were on a midnight mission to save a damsel in distress, Gwen who needed us to come to her, to comfort her. At the time, I’d treated it like a game, a little role play. I hadn’t imagined that it would turn out to be a dress rehearsal.
Now, we were riding in the SUV, with Santiago at the wheel, on a midnight mission. Gwen was in distress, and this time it was for real.
I had no idea what kind of situation she was in, but I knew it couldn’t be good. The expression on the bartender’s face when Taylor suggested Gwen was in trouble did nothing to ease my mind. He knew more than he’d let on, and what he knew disturbed him.
As we drove to the address the bartender had given us, no one said a word. I was grateful for that. I didn’t want anything to break my focus.
When we arrived, Santiago made no effort to look for a parking space. Instead, he pulled the SUV onto the sidewalk and parked it on the lawn in front of the apartment complex.
We filed out, quickly and orderly.
Taylor found the building—it was behind the first row of buildings. With a flick of the wrist and a point, he instructed us to follow him. Unsurprisingly, the building’s front door was locked; an intercom and keypad mounted beside it.
Taylor pressed a few buttons at random.
Elijah and I searched for another entry.
A voice came crackling through the intercom.
“Sorry,” said Taylor, “but the code’s not working.”
I heard a buzz then a click, turned my head and saw Taylor opening the door. That was fast.