192. Courtney
Chapter 192
Courtney
“Hello?” My tentative voice barely carries over the sound of Ben’s whimpers.
The man walks forward.
“Dale?” I take a step back.
I can’t see the man well. But I know it’s not one of my guys.
Then he steps into a beam of moonlight, and I can see it’s not my replacement either.
But I recognize him.
He was a guest here. A while ago.
My fear morphs into terror.
He shouldn’t be here.
And I shouldn’t be out here alone.
No one knows I’m out here alone.
“What do you want?” I don’t want to hear the answer, but I can’t stop the question from coming out.
He takes a step forward. Toward me. “I want to ruin your life the way you ruined mine.”
What?
He doesn’t make any sense.
I barely even talked to him when he was here .
But sense doesn’t matter. Not with men like him.
Not with men who would approach you in the dark.
He takes another step, leaving only a couple yards between us.
I throw my clothes bundle at him.
“Run!” I yell the command at Ben as I spin and take off back toward the bathroom.
My blood is sizzling with adrenaline.
My body feels like it isn’t mine.
If I can just get through the door.
There’s a lock?—
A hand grips the back of my sweatshirt.
I stumble.
But the man’s hold on my shirt keeps me from falling.
I start to struggle.
I won’t go easy.
I won’t?—
Cold metal presses against my throat.
I flinch.
And a sharp sting slices my skin.
A cry flies from my mouth, and my hands reach up on reflex.
He shakes me, and the knife cuts me again.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses.
I try not to shiver with disgust at having him this close to me. At feeling his hot, disgusting breath on my neck.
Ben is barking now.
Standing a few feet ahead of us, hair on end.
Tears I didn’t realize I was crying flow from my eyes.
It’s okay , I want to tell Ben.
I’ll be okay , I want to promise him.
Please don’t come closer , I beg of him.
I’m shaking so hard I feel another sting of metal across my skin.
“Walk forward.” His command is followed by a shove to my back.
My eyes dart to the shower building.
I was trying to get there so I could lock myself inside. But I plant my feet.
I won’t go in there.
Not with him.
“Bitch, move.” Rage laces his words.
“I don’t understand. Why?—”
The knife shifts so it’s pressed tight against the underside of my jaw.
“Your fucking boyfriend fucked up my hands so bad, I lost my fucking job,” he spits out. “They’re still so bad I might just slice your throat on accident. So walk .” He shoves me harder.
The blade breaks skin.
Ben lunges forward, and the creepy man tries to kick past me at Ben.
“Stop,” I cry.
He shoves my back again.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
My neck hurts so bad.
I can feel the warm stickiness of my blood trailing down my skin.
Lifting my shaking hands, I hold them palms out and shush Ben.
I need to think.
I can’t go into the bathroom with this man.
I won’t.
My body—my hands and elbows and knees—is the only weapon I have.
I don’t know if I’ll get away before he cuts too deep, but I’ll try.
I’ll fucking try.
I pull in a trembling breath, preparing myself.
Then we both freeze as the undeniable sound of a shotgun being cocked fills the darkness around us.