I stood there, heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat as I listened to the phone ring and ring and ring.
I heard her voice and felt my stomach twist until I realized it was her recorded outgoing message.
“Steph, get out of your apartment right now. Run somewhere. Anywhere. Just get the fuck out of there.”
I hung up, cursing as I watched my battery drain down to eight percent.
Great.
That was just fucking great.
I tucked it away and spent the rest of the ride pacing, my hands clenching and unclenching, looking like a fucking crazy person.
Women tucked their purses under their jackets. Men eyed me in their periphery, trying to decide if I was a threat or not.
When the subway pulled to a stop, I pushed past people to get to the door, then spilled out and tore up the steps and onto the street.
I was still twenty blocks from Steph’s apartment, so I sucked in a deep breath and took off at a dead run.
I wasn’t exactly a religious guy, but I was praying the whole damn run.
That she was smart enough not to go home.
That the guy hadn’t decided to target her, that he didn’t know where she lived, that he was just waiting for another chance to get to me.
“Come the fuck on,” I growled when I got to the door and ran my hand down all the buzzers for each apartment. “Come the fuck on.” Someone in the building had to be expecting company, a delivery, something.
I was about to break in the fucking door when I heard a buzz, then the click as the door unlocked.
Thank fuck.
I ripped open the door and rushed inside, heading for the stairs to save every second I could.
My legs ached as I pushed them harder.
I didn’t care.
It didn’t matter.
I’d run to her with a bleeding fucking bullet wound.
The door at the landing was heavy, but I pushed it with enough force to make it crack against the wall as I ran onto the floor.
Where my goddamn blood immediately ran cold.
Because Stephanie’s door was cracked.
I tried not to panic, to tell myself that maybe Andy and Sammy were just checking on her before going home, since she dipped out of the event without a word.
Trying to keep my mind from going to worst-case scenarios, I inched closer to the door, listening for the sound of voices.
There was nothing.
Except for the sounds of Christmas music coming from inside.
I reached for my gun, then pressed my arm into the door, pushing it open with a small groan.
What I saw inside had dread, cold and clammy, spreading through me.
