Page 24 of Tailored for You

Turning the microwave light on over the stove, I sighed. For the fiftieth time, I wished I had a dishwasher. It wasn’t a lot of dishes, but with everything else on my plate, I just wanted one easy thing.

Folding my arms on the counter, I leaned down, placing my head on top, and tried to find peace.

If I don’t do this now, I’ll be pissed at myself later. Just get it over with.

A creak rang out in the otherwise silent night. Old buildings like this creaked so much that I had to stop watching scary movies because they made my imagination run wild.

It happened again. Louder. Or maybe it was closer?

A table leg scraped against the floor.

My body went cold.

Someone was there. In my studio.

They were only feet away. Did they know we were here? Would they rob me and not search deeper and find us?

My hands started shaking. I was frozen, knowing I needed to move, but I couldn’t.

I stared at my closed door that had a lock I didn’t remember engaging.

It didn’t matter if I had. It was a flimsy door that one decent kick would knock down.

We couldn’t go out the window.

What do I do?

Where do I take Harper? There wasn’t anywhere to hide. Our apartment had two rooms and a small bathroom.

What do I do? My mind raced, trying to latch onto a plan. Anything.

I searched the room. Nothing would help me.

Think. Think.

The bathroom. It was right there and had a lock on the door.

I ran to the bedroom, picked up Harper and her small blanket as gently as I could, and made it to the bathroom, locking the door with one hand.

I placed Harper in the tub, wrapping her up in the blanket, hoping against hope that the hard surface wouldn’t bother her.

She rolled, trying to make herself comfortable, but didn’t wake up.

Okay, call 911. Right, that was a good idea.

If only I had my phone.

I cursed my stupidity for not grabbing my phone, knowing it was right there on the nightstand, but unwilling to risk opening the door.

My heart pounded.

Focus. What was in here that I could use?

The toilet brush was within reach, but that wouldn’t work. It was plastic. How much harm would that do?

Reaching over to the cabinet under the sink, I found the curling wand and straightener.

My chest tightened, and my stomach churned as I held onto the handles. I should’ve taken those self-defense classes at the gym last month.