Page 28 of Mess With Me

My stomach drops. “Okay.”

“It’s probably nothing, but it might be something. And I’m not willing to risk the small chance that it is.”

Suddenly, having the strange feeling validated makes this feel real.

“I want you to grab whatever you need that’s within reaching distance.”

“What?”

“Grab your purse, your phone, your keys. That’s it.”

My stomach roils, my heart thudding so loud I can feel it in my throat. “Griffin—”

“Now, Sasha. I’m on my way to you, but I’m at least twenty minutes out.” I hear the faint rev of an engine. He’s on the road.

“Okay.” I swallow. I can do this. “Okay. Should I call you when—”

“No, don’t hang up. Tell me when you’re ready to leave.”

The only thing I’m not already carrying is my key ring, so I swipe it off the counter and move to the door. I hesitate. “One sec.”

I run to my bedroom and yank open the closet door. Reaching up on the top shelf, I pat around with my hand until I find the item I’m looking for. I stuff it into my pocket.

I run back out of the room, ignoring everything I should probably grab, like my passport and jewelry. “I’m ready.”

“Good. Look out your peephole. Is there anyone there?”

My throat is dry. I swallow, squinting into the hole. Nothing but the wallpaper on the opposite side of the hallway. “No. Fuck, Griffin, I wish I weren’t alone.”

“It’s okay. I’m here. Now, open the door slowly and look down the hallway toward the closest stairwell first, then the other direction.”

The door opens with a soft brushing sound across the entryway carpet. I do as he says. In either direction, the hallway is clear. Then the slightest movement catches my eye.

The elevator’s twenty feet away from me, in the middle of the building on the opposite wall. The lights are blinking up floor by floor.

My stomach drops. “There’s someone in the elevator,” I whisper, even though they’re several floors down and couldn’t possibly hear me.

“How many floors away?” His voice is urgent.

“Nine. No, eight.”

“Run for the far stairwell if you have time. If not, the close one.”

I gauge the distance, then sprint for the far door. “Okay,” I say, my voice choppy with each footstep.

“Get inside and out of sight immediately. Then close the door quietly and—”

“Shit,” I whisper.

The elevator dings. I miscalculated.

I jump into the nearest doorway. They’re set in a foot and a half from the hallway, but it’s enough space to conceal me.

The elevator doors swoosh open, and I sense more than hear footfalls on the thick carpet.

“Are you in the stairwell?” Griffin asks. He’s whispering.

“Yes. Almost.”

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