Page 78 of Baited

Her hand clenched the rail as Michael opened the door. She shook her head and pushed down the wave of unease. She was paranoid. Michael wasn’t their guy. He was a gentle, nerdy dentist who everyone in town knew. She chewed her lip and inched backward. She would stick near the door and keep it open. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Murphy, come here boy.” Michael whistled inside the door. “Come in Riley, he might be hiding. He’s been so mopey.”

Riley pressed her fingers against the old wooden door, holding it open. Her heart slammed against her breastbone and her chest tightened. She stepped one foot inside, but kept her hand on the partially open door. Michael stalked to the living room, softly calling Murphy.

Blood thundered wildly through her ears and her senses screamed. The scent of freshly cooked bacon filled her nose, launching the tremor in her stomach to the back of her throat.

A soft whine sounded through the apartment.

“He’s right here, Riley.” Michael knelt down at the far end of the couch in the living room, his hand outstretched behind the corner of the couch out of her vision. “If you just want to prop the door open, we can carry him right down.”

The vice gripping her chest slowly released. If the door was wide open, she could easily run for it or scream. She picked up the doorstopper next to the door, pushed it wide open, andsecured it. The floor beneath the soft carpet creaked as she stepped into the living room.

“Is he all right?” She moved down the length of the couch, her voice soft so as not to disturb poor Murphy.

Michael pushed into a standing a position, his face tense. “It’s hard to tell. He’s gotten himself cramped back there.” Michael flashed her weak a smile. “He’s back in the corner. You’re smaller, if you can reach, just scoop him under the arms and I’ll grab his end when you get him out.”

Riley brushed passed Michael and knelt down. Her breath wheezed out of her lungs and fear shot up the back of her throat like bile. Nothing but a pile of old blankets crowded the corner. She leapt to her feet and whirled to face Michael.

“Where’s Murphy?”

A slow smile stretched across his thin face. His hands reached for her. She backed up, her footsteps fast and awkward. The pieces of the puzzle scrambled into place faster than her mind could keep up.

“You—You took Hanna. Where is she?” Terror gripped her, sending shockwaves over her body. Oh god, what had he done with Hanna? Rage burned in her veins. Riley stormed passed him. “Hanna!” she screamed.

Michael grunted from behind her. He snagged her wrist and spun her around. Riley clenched her hand into a fist and swung. Her knuckles connected with his mouth. Blood splattered through his lips and pain shot through her wrist.

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. His hand covered his mouth, his eyes wild and black.

“I won’t let you hurt her. Where is she Michael? This is over.” She backed away, her fingers opened and closed at her sides.

Michael had planned to silence her, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. He wiped the rivulet of blood that covered his chin with the back of his hand.

“You’re going to pay for that.” Cold, dead eyes met hers.

Goose bumps spread over her skin. She turned on her heel and ran for the open door. A scream tore from her throat. Michael let out a howl and something connected with the side of her head. Pain exploded through her skull, her vision blurred and she stumbled to her knees. A kaleidoscope of colors blended with the carpet fibers, and her fingernails dug deep into its thickness as she gulped in air.

No. He’d caught her. All this time… he’d been right above her.

Michael’s shiny loafers filled her vision. Her breath came out in sharp puffs through her nose. She wouldn’t die like this. He strode past her and shut the front door, the lock snapped with the force of a gunshot.

Determination clawed at her throat like an angry beast. A growl sounded in her chest as she pushed herself to her feet. She straightened her spine, and met Michael’s gaze. The once kind lines of his face hardened, revealing the evil monster lurking beneath his pale, thin skin.

She balled her hands into fists; her gaze swept the room in search of a weapon. “You won’t get away with this, Michael. They’re on to you. The FBI is in Beaufort, sniffing around. If I were you, I’d turn myself in before shit gets ugly.”

A smile stretched across his face, his eyes sparked with amusement. “I’ve been doing this for decades Riley. I call your bullshit.”

“My bullshit?” she snorted. “You have no idea who you’re up against. Ethan will stalk the streets when he notices I’m missing, and yours will be one of the first houses he checks.” She folded her arms over her chest as if it were a suit of armor. Searing heat spread its throbbing pain from the wound on her head. Warmth trickled through her hair and the tinny scent of blood filled her nose. “He’s been suspicious of you from day one.”

Michael scoffed, his hand tightened on the baseball bat as he took a step closer. Riley didn’t move. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run, but he blocked the door. He was thin, but bigger than she was. Even if she could bolt, she wouldn’t leave Hanna.

“You think I’m scared of your boyfriend? He’s not even an FBI agent anymore. And besides, I just took care of him. He won’t be looking for anyone.”

Every muscle in her body went lax. Terror pricked her skin. No. He was lying, he couldn’t have hurt Ethan. She’d just been with him.

“You’re full of shit. Ethan would snap you like a twig.” The tremor in her bones turned to solid steel. Oh god, what if she was wrong? The insides of her stomach burned. She had to get out of here and find Ethan—but if she got away what would he do to Hanna?

She couldn’t leave without knowing where Hanna was. He could have hidden her anywhere. “Where’s Hanna, Michael? I want to see her.”

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