Page 108 of Secrets in the Deep

Move.

On the third step, she forced her body into action and ran. She made it halfway to the front door before a hand shoved her in the back. Her foot caught. She hit the floor hard, the breath leaving her chest in a sharp burst.

Fingers wrapped around her ankle.

She turned her head in time to see the knife fly back, then plunge down.

She gasped and kicked her other foot, hitting the asshole’s wrist and knocking the knife out of their hand.

The grip on her ankle loosened just enough for her to push to her feet. The front door was so close. She wrapped her fingers around the handle.

Before she could unlock it, punishing fingers gripped her hair and pulled her head back.

The sharp edge of the knife hovered over her throat. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.

One flicker of motion and?—

Someone pounded on the door.

The knife touched her neck, a sting of pain, the smallest slice of skin. She whimpered.

Another knock. “Emi? You there?”

Ryan.

His name had barely registered in her mind before her head was shoved hard against the wood.

She cried out and dropped to the floor.

Ryan slipped behindthe wheel of his truck and started toward Polly’s house. He’d had possibly the shortest shower of his life, because fuck, he was excited to see her. Not just see her, but take her to his house. Totheirhome.

He’d already done a boxing session with the bag in his basement, followed by a run, all in an attempt to chase away the pent-up energy.

It hadn’t worked.

If he’d had his way, he’d have taken Emily home last night. But it had been late. She’d been tired. And she’d still needed to pack.

He’d just started the engine when a text came through.

Polly: Emily isn’t answering my call. Are you almost at my house or should I go back?

He frowned as he hit Polly’s number, pulling onto the road. “Why would you go back? You think something’s wrong?”

“She texted and asked if I’d left, which is weird because I said goodbye before leaving the house. I said I did, and asked why. She didn’t respond, and now she isn’t answering my calls.”

He pressed his foot harder to the gas. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

He hung up and called Emily. Three rings in and he knew she wasn’t answering his call either.

What the fuck was going on? He’d just been texting her.

He took a hard right, the tires of his truck squealing.

Was she just distracted? Or was it something else? The thought made his stomach coil.

Another right, then a left.

When he reached the street, too much time had passed.