Chapter 3
Emily
A low hiss cuts through the silence. Frisky has suddenly decided that he’s had enough of this interloper. My head snaps towards the couch in time to see him dart out from underneath the far end. He looks small but furious and terrified.
“Frisky,” I whisper, reaching a hand towards him.
The man’s gaze shifts. His eyes land on the cat with unsettling interest.
Before I can move, or even process what’s going on, he lunges. His arm sweeps down and grabs Frisky off the floor. Frisky fights for all he’s worth, claws slashing for anything and everything he can reach.
I jump to my feet and scream, “Leave him alone! He’s just scared.”
The man reaches out with his free hand and shoves me back down onto the sofa. “Sit down. I like to deal with one problem at a time.”
Meanwhile, Frisky writhes in his grip. My kitty is panicking, trying desperately to get away. It breaks my heart to see.
“Please!” I beg. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll do anything. I’ll listen and do as you say. Just please don’t hurt him.”
In this moment, my whole world narrows to that helpless little body trapped in his hands. I no longer care about the shattered electronics, the intrusion, or the locked door. I don’t even care about my own safety, only Frisky twisting and hissing in a stranger’s grip.
He adjusts his hold, pinning Frisky against his chest. Then he looks at me, and I can tell by the expression on his face that he just found the one thing he can control me with.
And the asshole is not wrong about that.
I should be terrified, and some small part of my brain is.
But another larger part wants to protect my cat.
He looks pleased with himself. Giving me another cold smile, he says, “You stay quiet, and he stays safe.”
When Frisky lets out a choked, distressed sound, I press both hands to my mouth to keep from screaming again.
“Please,” I whisper through my fingers. “Please, I’m begging you.
Just put him down.” My voice shakes as I try to reason with him.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I can help.
I have cash that I’ll give to you. You can take my car and go wherever you want.
I won’t stop you, or report the car stolen. Just let him go.”
Rather than responding, his fingers flex slightly around Frisky’s body. It’s just enough to provoke a tiny, strained sound. Seeing him deliver little intentional hurts to my beloved pet is pulling at my heartstrings.
“Alright then, I’ll drive you! Whatever you want!
” I offer. The words come out sounding desperate and my voice is shaking.
“You can tell me where you want to go. I’ll take you there.
And then we’ll go our separate ways. I won’t ask any questions, call anyone, or tell anyone afterwards. I swear I won’t.”
He throws me a disbelieving look. “You think that’s what this is about?” he says, looking at me like I’m stupid. “You think this is all part of some grandiose plan to catch a ride?”
I freeze because I don’t know what else to do. “Look, whatever you want, I’ll help you get it. Just don’t hurt Frisky. Please, don’t hurt him.”
He shifts Frisky to one arm, continuing to hold my terrified pet hostage. The movement makes Frisky hiss in pain again, and the sound shifts something. I’m growing less desperate by the minute and angrier.
“No one cares what I want,” he mutters, pacing a few steps across the room.
His voice grows sharper, words picking up speed.
“Of course, everyone acts like they do. But the reality is people don’t really give a shit about others, just themselves.
I’m sick of being treated as a liability.
Everyone in my life is just waiting for me to slip up so they can point fingers. ”
He’s not making any sense, which is all the more reason to be scared of him.
I try to reason with him. “I’m not judging you. I don’t even know you and wouldn’t even know where to start. You can stay as long as you need.”
He pauses and his eyes flick towards me, then away.
“They’re hunting me,” he mumbles, rubbing his free hand over his face. “Everywhere I go, I can see and hear them. They whisper about me, tell lies. I don’t care what they say. I didn’t do what they’re accusing me of. They think I’m stupid, but I can think circles around both of them.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I interject quickly, trying to keep the peace with this unstable man. “I think anyone would be scared if they felt hunted. You did the right thing in coming here. You’re safe because no one comes this far into the woods.”
He stops pacing and looks at me suspiciously. His hand strokes Frisky once, but there’s no gentleness in it. The motion is mechanical, a reminder that his grip could turn lethal at any second.
He says suddenly, “Are you part of this?”
I’m starting to get a serious headache dealing with this man’s paranoia. “Part of what?”
“You act like you never leave your little cabin,” he says, eyes narrowing. “But you’ve got a car. You wouldn’t need a car unless you went into the city.”
My mind is like a steel trap, trying to piece together what in the hell he’s talking about.
“Of course I have a car. I need to go to town for groceries,” I say. Then I add in the most soothing tone I can muster given the circumstances, “I’ve never set eyes on you before today. Therefore, I couldn’t be in cahoots with the people who are after you, right?”
“You could be lying. Everyone lies to get what they want.”
I shake my head, desperate to get out of this loop with him. “I’m nobody. I don’t do anything except work and take care of my cat. I don’t know who you think I am, but I haven’t been watching anyone.”
He closes the distance between us in two strides, stopping so close that he could punch me in the face if he wanted. His eyes flick over me, searching for something he’s already convinced himself exists.
“You’ve already seen and heard too much,” he whispers. “I might not be able to let you go.”
The words finally start to make sense. He legitimately thinks he’s being stalked. He isn’t talking about a bear. He means other human beings are stalking him, for God only knows what ends.
It’s becoming increasingly obvious that I’m not going to be able to talk the lunatic down from the ledge. I need to calm down and find a way to escape. Panic will get me and Frisky killed.
He’s standing too close to the back door. Even if I made it, he’d catch me before I got the lock open. Besides that, he’s still holding my cat.
I glance towards the kitchen. I have a knife block by the stove, but I shove that thought down instantly. I don’t know anything about knife fighting and it’s likely that he would take the knife away and use it on me or Frisky.
The windows are a no-go because most of them are rusted shut. I’m still trying to figure out my next move when a sound drifts to my ears from outside. It’s soft at first, like it’s coming in from a distance. Maybe voices traveling on the breeze.
My breath stalls and for one brief second, I think that he might be telling the truth about someone looking for him.
The interloper hears the sound too. He freezes and strains to see if he can make out what we’re hearing. One hand tightens around Frisky, and the other curls into a fist at his side. His eyes stay focused on the door, sharp and suspicious, as if he expects someone to burst through it at any second.
I stay perfectly still. My heart pounds so loudly I worry he’ll hear it instead of whatever is moving outside. I turn towards the window, more convinced than ever that someone is out there. All I can do is pray that they find me and it’s not whoever this man is running from.