Page 13 of No, You Hang Up

“I don’t know what I was expecting, little rabbit…” His voice drifts out of the room, easily reaching my ears. “But it wasn’t this. Your room is so cozy. Your bed on the floor is like a cute little nest. So manypillows.” He clicks his tongue like he’s judging me. “No one here to cuddle with at night? I’m surprised you don’t have stuffed animals.”

Well, I do have a few, but they’re on my desk, not on my bed.

I hear him move around more, shifting things and making noises that prove to me he’s both looking for me but also trying to scare me out of hiding. Finally he leaves my bedroom, but as he does, he flicks on the switch that controls the small, warm lights strung over my walls and on the slanted ceiling over my bed in lieu of an overhead light.

“Oh well, isn’t that precious?” He chuckles. “I don’t know why you’re hiding.” He disappears down the hallway, heading toward the laundry room, only to take a few steps backward until he’s in front of the guest room.

Where I’m hiding.

“You wanted the attention.” His voice sounds a little different from how it did on the phone. Somehow sharper, with more of a dangerous humor. But the husky, velvet smooth voice is still enough to have me hanging on every word.

A sudden, sharp noise causes me to cringe, and it’s a close call that I don’t hit any of the clothes hanging in front of me. Refocusing on him, I see him sliding the tip of the blade along the white-washed wall, prompting a small surge of irrational irritation to flood my throat.

Why is he fucking up my wall?

“You called me,” he goes on, like I need to be reminded. “You called me, and you answered when I called you. Why do that, if you weren’t begging for my attention, hmm? It’s…” He stops and tilts his head, bringing one finger up to tap his mask as if he’s deep in thought.

“Kaira, right? Kaira McCabe? What is that, Kaira, Scottish?” God, I sort of wish he’d shut the hell up.

Gaelic,I bite back internally, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes even considering how petrified I am. My whole body is vibrating with terror, and my fingers feel so cold I wonder if one can get frostbite from just being so scared.

“I’ll have to remember to ask you again when you feel like answering.” He moves to the small pile of boxes in the opposite corner, leaning forward over the lids to see if I’m hiding behind them. Then he goes to the desk and spares the half-open closet a look.

Just…a look.

But it’s enough to make my heart stop, to have me standing so perfectly, utterly still that I’m definitely not even breathing.

I want to scream.

I want to do something.

But all I can do is stand there, my eyes on his mask from behind the clothes in the shadows of my guest room closet. My ears feel overly keen as I make certain not to cause any kind of noise, and finally, after a few seconds which feel like they’ve been hours, the man drops his head and shakes it from side to side.

Then, wordlessly, he turns back to the hallway. My heart unclenches, the cage of ribs around it seeming to give up on some of their crushing pressure. I take a breath that I worry is too deep, too relieved, but he doesn’t stop. He disappears beyond the door, heading for what sounds like the laundry room at the end of the hall.

I have to go, I realize. He’ll know when he doesn’t find me in there that he’s missed me somewhere, and there’s no way he won’t check the closet next time. As soon as I can’t quite hear him anymore, I gently extricate myself from the clothes, and my feet once again are completely silent as I creep across the floor.

I can do this. I know now that my doors are locked—thanks to him—but all I have to do is make it to the front door before he notices me.

Halfway through the room, I pause again, just to make sure I still don’t hear him close. This is such an awful idea, but I don’t know what else to do. My steps quicken once more, and I’m planning my escape and all the ways I’ll scream and howl for help the moment I’ve thrown open my door.

There’s no way he’ll be able to get to me before someone hears, and I’m hoping the idea of being caught is enough to scare him off.

It has to be.

I’m so, so close to the doorway that I can literally reach out and brush the wood of the frame, causing my panic to give another small, infinitesimal inch.

I can do this.

Two more steps, then a hard left. I just have to make it to the front door that’s one more left from the hallway, but not very far at all.

I really have to be able to do this.

When I’m within one step of being in the hall, I feel my body tensing back up again. I know I’ll have to run like hell to get out of here, and I’m only going to have one shot?—

He appears in the doorway just as I’m there as well, and I swear I can feel his satisfaction and sense the grin behind the mask.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He laughs, and the sound is unkind and condescending. “Did you really think I didn’t know you were in that closet the moment I came into this room? Oh, you stupid little girl.” He lunges forward before I can do more than trip back, and his hand darts out, gloved fingers digging into my throat.

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