Page 18 of Kat Bethel

Shit.

“Send the divorce paperwork to Willow.” Every lightbulb in the room popped and shattered. I hung up the call and turned the phone back off. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring my complaining body. “Okay, asshole, you’ve got my attention now. Show yourself.”

The silence made my heart pound in my ears, making it harder to hear where the thing might be.

I reached for my tool belt. Only to realize it wasn’t on me. My eyes went to the table across the room where I’d dropped it on my way in. Not that it’d helped before.

That candle was better than nothing.

No. This time I had the sun.

I went to the door, opening it, and let light fill the room. As soon as the rays shone through the door the oppressive air blended with the fresh-cut grass scent from outside, making it easier to breathe.

A heavy thump next door snapped my attention to the wall behind my bed. A sound that was familiar. The kind of weight of a body dropping. I waited for a complaint or cry tosound through the thin wall that said someone fell and hurt themselves.

Soft muffled grunts of struggle met my ear. I waited an extra two seconds for a sound that would confirm this was just some kind of kinky sex.

But there wasn’t any.

A bad feeling ran over me.

I ran out of my room without shoes or pants. I pounded on the door. “Are you okay?”

I peeked between the curtains and found a huge man hanging from the support beam on the ceiling with eyes that reminded me of a frightened deer.

Fuck!

I grabbed a decorative fake plant, smashed the glass, and crawled in. The clock ticking on the wall taunted me. I wrapped my arms under his hips the best I could, lifting him up.

“Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping someone else was walking through the parking lot. I raised onto my tip-toes to take even a little pressure off his throat. My grip slipped.

He was a big guy, I couldn’t clasp my arms all the way around. He looked like he could bench two of me on any casual Tuesday.

“Fire!” My throat hurt with how loud I shrieked.Come on!

My arms trembled. He was so heavy. My calves cramped, but I refused to acknowledge the pain.

“I don’t want to sound petty, but if I can’t kill myself, you can’t either,” I said, trying to get something like amusement out of him. That I understood what he was doing. That he was seen. A last-ditch effort to get him to help me save him.

He pointed over my shoulder, shaking his head back and forth with wide-eyed terror. I turned my head, but nothing was there. Not to the invisible eye anyway. Shit. I couldn’t spare a thought if I wanted to save this man.

He kicked his feet in alarm, like he was desperately trying to run away. It made me lose grip on him. He grunted when the noose tightened around his neck again, making my stomach flip.

“Ru–” But he didn’t have enough air to get the word out.Run.Icy cold air blew across my neck to confirm my suspicions.

“Calm down!” I yelled, grabbing him again. But he was struggling so much in his panic. The fear in his eyes was real and familiar in an uncomfortable way. “Please.”

“Is everything okay?” a young woman asked outside the window.

Did everything fucking look okay? “Call 911 and get in here to help me.”

“Okay.” She shook and struggled to unlock her phone.

I wanted to snap for her to hurry, but I smashed it down. It wouldn’t help her get it done any faster.

Hot fluid trickled down the front of my chest as he stopped fighting me, going limp, and the distinct scent of urine hit my nose.

A tear rolled down my cheek, when I looked down to confirm the giant stain of yellow on my white shirt.