My phone’s in the living room.
The window! Rhys said that if anyone lifted any windows, he would know.
Panic and fear are vibrating through my body with each fast beat of my heart, the thumping in my ears makes it hard to hear the jiggling of the doorknob.
Oh, God. Swan!
Swallowing the sob that’s trying to work its way from my throat, I tiptoe to the window and push the locks over to lift the frame. It goes up smooth and quiet, but when I look out, it’s at least a six-foot drop to the rock flowerbed, which is about three feet wide, next to the grass.
The hot July air rushes through the open window and blows my hair back from my face, and I wish I had my shoes here.
A bang on the bedroom door makes me jump and slam my head into the window. I don’t have time to worry about shoes. I swing my leg over the sill and push myself away as I jump so I’ll land on the grass instead of the rocks.
My left heel lands on the metal divider between the rock bed and the grass, sending pain up my leg, and I clamp my teeth together to stop the yelp on my tongue. Blood runs from the cut, and I curse under my breath for the trail I’m going to leave.
Secada’s are trilling loud in the trees around me as my mind races as fast as my heart trying to figure out what I need to do. Then I remember the cameras on the eaves of the house, and I see one mounted on the back corner, pointing down at the fence that blocks the backyard from the front.
Looking down at my heel, which is aching up to my calf, there is blood in the hot green grass, so I pull Rhys’ shirt over my head and loop it around my heel and tie it on my ankle. That will have to do for now.
The sound of another bang on the door through the window over my head sounds like the wood almost cracked that time.
Do I run to the front and hope there’s someone there to help before he catches me? His car is there, he could easily push me in and drive away. Or do I run to the camera to get Rhys’ attention? I can’t do both, there’s no time. My gaze flicks around the empty, peaceful street beyond the front yard and then back to the camera.
Straightening up, I jog-hobble to the fence and wave my arms at the camera before I try to lift the latch for the gate. Locked from the inside! Fuck! I slam my palm on the rough wood and look back at the open window before I look around me.
In the corner of the rock garden, against the house, is a large hose caddy with a big crank-arm on it. Looking over my shoulder at the window again to make sure he’s not there, I step up on the caddy and pull myself to the top of the fence.
Trying to balance myself so I don’t impale my private parts on the point of one of the fence pickets, the scorching sun is heating my skin, making sweat run down my face and back. The fence frame is on the other side, and I hook my toes on that to step down into the backyard.
Putting weight on my toes feels like I’m prying the cut on my heel open, and I bite my tongue to stop myself frommaking any sounds.
Just as my feet step on the grass, I hear a crash, and I know the bedroom door finally gave way, and he’s in the bedroom. Turning from the fence, I hobble around the pool on the concrete that feels like it’s been baking on the surface of the sun, and the smell of chlorine floats into my nose.
Holding my breath, I pull on the handle of the sliding glass door of the pool house. It’s open! The breath rushes from my lips as I pull it closed behind me and slide the lock into place.
The silence in the little house is comforting, but the air conditioning is not on since it isn’t being used. The stale heat in the small area is heavy, and I feel beads of sweat rolling down my back and chest.
My heart is beating so hard that I wonder if it can be heard outside. There’s not much to the tiny house, the main room is like a living room that opens up to the poolside with a small bar on one side, obviously meant for entertaining with the sliding door open next to the pool.
Through a door on the other side of the living room, I can see a small bed in a bedroom that looks like it’s the size of a large closet, and another door looks like it might be to a bathroom. Peeking around the door frame, I look to see if Sanders is in the backyard, but there’s no sign of him.
Hobbling to the little bathroom, I shut the door and lock it. The pain in my foot is aching up to my thigh now, so I sit on the toilet and immediately pull the door open under the tiny sink in the corner to look for a first aid kit. There’s nothing but some plumber’s putty, a wrench and a hammer.
It’s a good thing I don’t have to pee, because there isn’t even any toilet paper in here.
How long will it take for Rhys to see the video and then get here? Setting my elbows on my knees, I lean forward and rest my head in my hands with my eyes closed, trying to battle the tears of panic that are fighting to be let loose.
It’s so fucking hot in here, it’s like being in an oven.
Opening my eyes, I see the blood from my heel is leaking through the shirt, so I sit on the floor and prop my foot up on the toilet. My hair is sticking to my entire upper torso since all I have on is my bra, so I twist it up on my head and knot it.
How long do I have to wait? I’m not leaving this room until I know Rhys is on the other side of that door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
RHYS
“SIT DOWN, Abbot,” AD Dunn says as he points at the chair across from his desk.
