The skin tore. He screamed, swore, and his blood filled my mouth with metal. I spit it out and fought down the urge to gag as soon as he jerked his hand away.
Run!
I didn’t make it a step before he grabbed me again, his other hand curling around my throat. I thrashed against him, trying to step on his toes, to kick him, scratch him anywhere it would hurt, but he was still dressed in his work clothes. Some kind of a uniform. My Chucks had no chance against his steel-toed boots, or the thick long-sleeved uniform he wore.
He squeezed my throat tightly as I tried to gulp down air.
“Do as I say.”
The only other time I’d felt fear like this was when I saw Adeline’s face the day the cops came to tell us our parents had died. She’d turned to me after they left, and I felt our entire life cracking open and falling apart at our feet. For a moment, everything seemed impossibly bleak. I thought nothing would ever feel as awful.
Now I knew I was wrong. As Cory’s relentless grip cut off the air to my lungs, black spots appeared in my vision. I couldn’t pass out. Something told me if I lost consciousness, it would be game over.
I stopped fighting. Let my limbs sag. He wasn’t expecting it, so after a moment, he let go of my throat and shoved his hands under my armpits to hold me up. “Open. The. Door.”
My keys and bag were on the floor. At some point, I must have dropped them. That had to have made a sound, right? Apparently, not loud enough. Even if the neighbors heard it, it was doubtful they’d rush out to help. This wasn’t that kind of building. When I saw other people in the staircase or in the hall, we tended to avoid eye contact.
“Pick them up,” Cory commanded, dropping me down on the floor right on my kneecaps. Pain shot up through my bones. I patted the ground I could hardly see until I felt something cold. My bag had to be right there. Maybe I could dig for the pepper spray—
He jerked me up roughly and steered me toward my door. Tears were pooling along the edges of my eyes. Should I scream? No, I couldn’t risk him choking me again. My throat throbbed where his fingers dug into the flesh. He was strong enough to break my neck in his rage.
Think, Molly!
I sorted through the keys with one hand, feeling the one for my car, the one for the office, the Bleeding Moonlight keychain…
I ran over it with my index finger. It was a bottle opener, slim and with a sharp tip. Not much of a weapon, but sometimes I’d poke myself on it when digging for my keys, and I knew that at a certain angle, it was sharp enough to hurt.
I lifted my hand to the lock and stabbed the keyhole with the tip of the keychain, pretending I couldn’t get it inside.
“What are you doing?” Cory demanded.
“I’m sorry.” My voice trembled. It sounded so weak, I couldn’t believe it was me speaking. “It’s too dark, I can’t see.”
He swore and loosened his grip around me before outstretching one hand. “Give them to me.”
Without second-guessing what I was about to do, and using all of my strength and adrenaline, I tore myself away from him, and slashed the keychain diagonally across his face.
He howled in pain, jerking his hands to his face and staggering away. I must have hit something good. Before he could come to his senses, I grabbed my bag and ran. Jumped three, four steps at a time, my keys still clutched tightly in my hand. I needed to get away from here.
Go. Go. Go.
The rain slapped against my face as I sprinted to my car, past the mailboxes and the garbage area, past some neighbor I didn’t know who gave me an alarmed look. I must look an utter mess.
But at least I was alive.
I slid inside my car, threw my bag on the seat beside me, locked all the doors, and stuck the key in the ignition, my hands shaking with desperation.
It wouldn’t start.
“No. No! Audrey, c’mon love. Not today.”
Through the rivulets cascading down the window, I could see a silhouette heading my way.
I tried to start the car again, fighting to keep my panic at bay. Would the locks hold if Cory tried to force his way in? What if they didn’t? What if he dragged me out into the street by my hair?
As the silhouette got close, Cory’s face came into focus. He was bleeding through an ugly open gash across his forehead. The car sputtered to life. Relief flooded me, and I pressed on the gas, tearing out of there as fast as I could. I watched Cory through the rearview mirror until I finally turned a corner, and he disappeared out of sight.
Fifteen minutes passed before my heart rate slowed and I found the courage to pull over outside a Starbucks. My chest was still tight with residual fear. When the tears began to fall, I didn’t try to stop them.
