Page 159 of Buried in Blood
Two.
Three clicks.
I’ve checked them twenty times.
What if Damien paid off the front desk? What if the camera outside is fake? What if Reese never made it back to the car?
What if the knock comes and it’s his voice on the other side?
“Sweetheart. Open up.”
I press the gun to my temple—not to pull the trigger. Just to remind myselfthat if it comes to that… I won’t let him take me back.
Not again.
My pulse ticks in my ears, steady as a clock.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The motel groans with every gust of wind. I flinch at the sound of pipes expanding behind the walls. I think I hear footsteps above me, but there’s no second floor. Just an empty roof and a crooked antenna swaying in the storm.
I breathe through my nose.
In.
Out.
Count to four. Hold. Count to seven. Release.
My body doesn’t listen.
The tremble in my hands doesn’t stop.
The metal of the gun is slick from my grip.
I whisper to myself just to hear another voice. “You’re safe.”
The lie tastes like bleach.
I drag the nightstand in front of the door just in case. Balance the lamp so it’ll crash if the handle turns.
But I know it won’t help.
He always finds a way in.
He’s already in my head.
I glance at the phone Reese gave me. Five names. No new calls. No texts. No signal.
What if Reese was wrong?
What if Damien’s been watching this whole time?
My gaze snaps to the window. I inch toward it, crouching low, careful not to disturb the curtain. Just enough space to peek through.
