Page 111 of Chains
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two weeks later
That evening, Autumnstayed late to go over a few lab reports and finish up some paperwork. For the first time since she’d bought the clinic there weren’t any animals in the recovery rooms, so she’d sent Rodney and Lauren home for the night.
Darkness crept in and she could see the moon’s rays streaming in from a window at the end of the hallway, its long streaks looking like ghostly fingers on the blue-speckled floor. She reached over and turned off the music that had provided a pleasant backdrop to the day’s activities. The quiet enveloped her and she was heavy in concentration when the sound of footsteps filtered its way from the reception area. Autumn looked up, expecting to see one of the doctors or employees, but no one was there. Pausing for several seconds, she dismissed the noise to an overactive imagination and looked back at the computer screen to resume her work.
Several minutes later, she heard an unmistakable cough.
“Mark? Is that you?”
Autumn froze and listened: nothing except a tree branch hitting against the building. She meant to call a trimmer to cut back the trees, but she’d been so busy that it had slipped her mind.Does the scraping of branches against windows and stucco sound like a cough? I’m just spooking myself.
Shaking her head, Autumn tried to refocus on the lab reports, but she couldn’t concentrate anymore as she tried to listen for the slightest sound.Did someone break into the building?The clinic carried opioids such as tramadol, a pain medication used by both animals and humans, and hydrocodone, as well as Xanax, a very addictive benzodiazepine.I can’t remember turning on the alarm after Rodney left.But she must have—it was her habit. Then, she remembered the phone had rung just when the tech had waved goodbye to her.
A shudder of fear crept up her back.I didn’t set the alarm. Dammit! How could I be so forgetful?She strained her ears, but there wasn’t any noise out of the ordinary. Autumn leaned back against the office chair. It was just paranoia. Silly anxiety. The dark night, the suffocating stillness, the wavering moonlight in the corridor had all contributed to her imagination running amuck. A nervous giggle escaped her lips as she looked back at the computer screen. There was only one more report Autumn had to review, and she could finish the paperwork at home. She leaned forward and scanned the results of a feline’s blood test.
A creak. Then another. The pressure of footsteps on the hallway floor.
Autumn held her breath for a second and listened, positive that whoever was out there could hear her heart pounding like a jackhammer.
She leapt to her feet and blindly grabbed for a weapon off the desk: an amethyst geode with a miniature mining diorama in pewter. She’d bought it six months before in a souvenir shop in Central City during a weekend trip.
A long, dark shadow flickered on the floor as the footsteps grew louder, closer. Sweat broke out along Autumn’s hairline, and she gripped her phone and tapped in Chains’s number.Pick up! Pick the fuck up!
“Hi, babe.” The sound of his voice was reassuring, and a sliver of calmness wove through her.
“Someone’s in the building,” she whispered. “I’m alone and the footsteps are coming closer.”
“I’m on my way. Keep talking to me.”
The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway of the office.
“Oh shit! There’s someone here.”
“Baby, I’m coming.”
“Put the phone down.” The stranger’s voice was cold and menacing.
The man walked into the room, and all the air left her lungs with a low hiss as she stared ahead, too terrified to move.
“Fuck!” Chains yelled.
“I told you to put down the fucking phone.Now,” the intruder growled.
Autumn placed the phone on the desk without ending the call. At that moment, she couldn’t remember if he was staying at her house that night or the club. Since they’d gotten engaged, Chains had been spending most of his time at her home. If he was at her place, he was close, but the clubhouse was a bit of a distance from town.
“What do you want?” she asked, her gaze meeting his penetrating one.
“Sit down,” the man said as he settled into one of the chairs in front of her desk.
The stranger looked to be in his late thirties, but there were hints of gray at his temples. His hair was an unruly mop of thick, curly hair. He wore blue jeans and a fitted shirt that showed off his lean and muscular build. His dark eyes were intense and framed by bushy brows. A thin scar down the right side of his face moved when he spoke.
Legs wobbly, Autumn gripped the edge of the desk and sat down.
“Your fiancé owes me money.”
“Chains?” She shook her head. “You must be mistaken.”
