The intruder’s head snapped toward her.
They made eye contact.
She gasped.
Time fractured as the figure lunged. Annie spun and ran, bare feet sliding on the wooden floor. She caught the handrail and flung herself up the stairs.
The apartment felt impossibly small as she searched for somewhere to hide—or something to defend herself with.
The knife block.
If she could just reach it—
Heavy footsteps thundered behind her. She lunged for the counter, fingers wrapping around the largest knife just as rough hands clamped down on her shoulders.
She twisted—and for a split second, she saw his eyes.
Cold. Focused. Stripped of hesitation.
“Where is it?” The voice was low, distorted by the mask. Male. Unfamiliar.
“Where is what?” She tried to drive the knife between them.
Pain exploded through her arm as he wrenched it back, twisting hard enough to steal her breath. The force turned her away from him, her grip faltering as white-hot agony raced up her shoulder.
He was stronger—and knew exactly where to apply pressure.
The knife flew from her hand, skidding across the floor. He slammed her into the wall, the impact knocking the air from her lungs as his forearm pressed into her throat.
“The locket,” he growled close to her ear. “Where is it!!?”
Her thoughts scattered. How could he know about that? She’d only found it today. It had been buried in a jewelry box, forgotten among worthless trinkets.
Unless someone had been watching her.
The black SUV flashed through her mind.
Had the accident been deliberate? Had someone tried to kill her before she ever made it home?
“I don’t—”
The pressure on her throat increased. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision. No, it wouldn’t end this way, not without a fight.
She drove her knee up hard. He grunted, loosening his hold just enough for her to wrench free. She stumbled toward her phone, which had skidded across the floor during the struggle.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“Someone’s attacking me—” The intruder tackled her from behind, sending them crashing into the coffee table. Pain exploded through her shoulder as she landed on the bits of broken wood and glass.
The phone slid across the linoleum, the dispatcher’s voice distant and distorted.
“Ma’am? Are you there?”
She rolled and crawled toward the phone. Her fingers brushed it—
Hands closed around her ankle, yanking her back.
“Ma’am, I’m dispatching units to your location. Stay on the line.”
