Chapter 26
As soon as Max saw Hadley’s name on his screen, he answered. It didn’t matter that he and Caleb had been sitting at the kitchen table talking about tomorrow’s agenda.
He knew Caleb would understand, especially considering everything that had happened.
But his delight at the thought of talking to Hadley quickly turned to concern when he heard her whispered voice.
“Someone’s in my apartment.”
His spine went straight. “What? Where?”
“Just outside my room.”
He motioned for Caleb to call Sheriff Sutherland. Caleb grabbed his phone and stepped away to make the call.
“Hadley, stay with me.” Max kept his voice low but steady. “Lock your bedroom door. Grab something—anything you can use to defend yourself. Then go to your closet and hide.”
He heard movement on her end—soft footsteps, the faint rustle of fabric, the click of a door.
“I’m in my closet but . . . I think I just heard the door to my bedroom open. I think he’s in my room, Max!”
His chest tightened. “You’re doing fine. Don’t panic.”
A small sound came through the line. Not from Hadley.
From somewhere near her.
Had the intruder found her?
Max froze. “Hadley?”
There was a pause—too long, too still.
Then her breathing changed. “I think—”
The sound of a door opening cut her off.
Max’s grip tightened on the phone. “Hadley.”
Silence.
“Hadley, answer me.”
Nothing.
Max stayed on the line, his pulse hammering as he listened. Every second stretched tight.
“Hadley,” he said again. “I’m here. Talk to me.”
A sudden crash sounded through the phone.
Then a scream.
The sound tore through him. “Hadley!”
The line went dead.
The quiet hit harder than the sound had.
He didn’t remember crossing the room. Didn’t remember grabbing his keys.
One second, Max was inside. The next, he was outside heading for his truck. People said things behind him, but he didn’t have time to answer.
Not when Hadley was in danger.
“Please, God,” he prayed under his breath as he yanked open the door. “Keep her safe.”
The engine roared to life, and he pulled out fast and sped toward the road.
Don’t let me be too late.
His hands tightened on the wheel, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might split his chest open. He pushed the truck faster, barely registering anything around him except the road ahead.
Just let me get there in time. Please!
As Hadley buried herself between the clothing hanging in her closet, the man reached inside.
His hand clamped around Hadley’s arm hard enough to make her gasp. She twisted, adrenaline kicking in. Every instinct screamed at her to fight.
“Let me go!” She wrenched against the man’s grip.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be!”
The mask hid most of the man’s face, but his breathing was rough and uneven. Pain shot up her arm as he tightened his hold.
Hadley shoved at him and clawed at his sleeve. She had to do whatever she could to break free.
She had to fight back. Because this man wasn’t here to rob her.
He was here to hurt her.
She lunged at the man, and her fingers caught the edge of the ski mask he wore.
She yanked at it, determined to see the face behind it.
The mask tugged free and slipped off.
As his face came into view, shock hit her, stealing her breath.
Kenny. Kenny was in her apartment.
She’d only seen him from a distance, but she was sure this was the same man.
“What are you—?” She didn’t finish.
His expression twisted, something wild and desperate in his eyes.
She tried to pull away again as he reached for something. Then a knife flashed in his hand.
She sucked in a breath. No . . .
He swiped it at her, and pain sliced through her arm.
Hadley stumbled back as she clutched at the cut, as she felt the blood covering her fingers.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as panic rose in her. She forced it down. She had to stay calm if she wanted to survive this.
Think, Hadley. Think!
She couldn’t outmatch Kenny. But she could outthink him.
He sneered at her as he stood in front of her still gripping that knife. “Fighting me will only make this harder.”
She was going to make this as hard as possible.
Her gaze flicked toward the nightstand beside her.
She’d left her bag there when she came in earlier. A small kit from the clinic was still inside. If she could only reach it . . .
She darted toward it, ignoring the pain in her arm as she yanked it open.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He lunged toward her again.
She grabbed the first thing her fingers found.
A small spray bottle with chlorhexidine inside.
Kenny tried to grab her, muttering more choice words.
Hadley turned and sprayed it straight in his eyes.
He staggered backward, a strangled curse tearing from his throat as he threw an arm up. He dropped the knife long enough to claw at his eyes.
“What did you do?” he choked.
Hadley grabbed a wooden lamp from the nightstand and swung it at him. The base connected with his head hard enough to send him stumbling again.
“You’re crazy!” he spat, blinking rapidly.
She looked beyond him at the door—her only exit. She’d never get past him.
Which meant she needed another plan.
She spotted the knife on the floor. Without thinking, she swooped down and grabbed it.
Her arm jetted out, knife outstretched. “Why are you here? Where’s Lyndee?”
Kenny straightened slowly as he saw the knife. His red, watery eyes locked onto her again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
For a second, neither of them moved. They stared at each other.
Then sirens sounded in the background.
Something shifted in his expression, and he backed to the door.
“This isn’t over.” His voice was low and edged with something that made her stomach drop.
“I don’t even know what ‘this’ is.” Her voice wavered as she said the words. “What did I ever do to you?”
He muttered something under his breath. Then he darted from the room.
But his words remained.
This isn’t over.
What wasn’t over?
What did that even mean?