Page 92 of Kylo

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I didn’t dare.

If Marco suspected I was still hiding somewhere, he could have just ordered his men to be quiet, to wait for me to come out.

I petted Ernest.

I counted.

One to sixty, then back again, holding up my fingers for each minute that passed.

Ten.

Twelve.

Fifteen.

My body jolted hard at the sudden thunderclaps of shoes running through my house.

“Rue?” a voice called, making me stiffen and straighten up.

That wasn’t Marco.

But it was coming from so far away; I didn’t let myself hope it might be a rescue.

“Rue? Rue, where are you?” The voice grew closer.

I straightened as much as the tiny space would let me, trying to listen.

I reached for my phone, unlocking the screen again.

I’d been so busy burying my face in my dog’s neck that I’d missed the texts from him.

I’m coming.

Hold on.

Two minutes.

That last one was from five minutes ago.

Did I dare believe it was him?

My blood rushed through my ears, too loud to trust them to differentiate one voice from another.

With trembling fingers, I shot off a quick text.

Is that you?

“Thank fuck,” I heard the voice say with a deep exhale. “Yeah, darlin’,” he said, his voice moving closer, still trying to find me. “Yeah, it’s me. Where are you hiding?”

“Closet,” I called back as my heart swelled.

I released Ernest and started to crawl forward, the grime coating my sweaty palms and legs as I made it to the little door.

“Don’t come out,” he called. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“I know,” I said, pushing my little crawl space door open. “I heard it break,” I added as he slid the door open to find me on all fours in the little square doorway.

“That’s a damn good hiding spot,” he said, trying to keep his tone calm, soothing. But I saw the tension in his jaw, the relief in his eyes.

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