Page 57 of Keeping Knight

A nightmare? Was she sleepwalking?

Unless… could someone have called her? Threatened her into leaving? If she thought I was in danger, she might have panicked rather than coming to me for help. She might have rushed out of here, moving on sheer instinct, uncaring that she was putting herself in danger.

“Shit!” I repeat as I race to the door. I should have anticipated this. I should have… shit. Put an extra lock on the door. More motion sensors inside the house. I should have done something.

But how would Ruby have felt, effectively being a prisoner in her own home? Not being able to leave without asking me? Setting off motion sensors and alarms if she wanted to get a midnight snack or watch the city at night in the solarium?

It would make her unhappy. And that’s the last thing I want.

Except, no. It’s not the last thing. The last thing I want is for Ruby to get hurt. And because of my short-sightedness, she might be.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I sprint the rest of the way to the front door. “Sampson.” I gesture at him to heel. “We need to track Ruby.”

He immediately trots over to me and falls in by my side. His gaze is alert. His ears prick forward. “Track Ruby,” I repeat. “Track.”

But Sampson isn’t a tracking dog. He’s practiced it with me, more for fun than anything else. Sampson’s speciality is apprehension and personal protection. Which would be really helpful if someone had gotten into the condo, intent on finding Ruby. But not so much when Ruby chooses to leave the condo herself.

Still, he’s intelligent. He knows what track means. And he loves Ruby, so he should be attuned to her scent.

Once we get into the hallway, I look up and down it, hoping against hope that I’ll spot Ruby right away.

I don’t.

“Shit,” I mutter. “Shit.”

What if she left the building, and she’s wandering the streets in the middle of the night, alone? What if whoever attacked her is out there, waiting? Then he sees Ruby; the perfect opportunity dropped straight in his lap. And he takes her⁠—

“Woof.” Sampson nudges my leg. His gaze lifts to meet mine. “Woof.”

My pulse jumps. Could he have scented her already?

“Where?” I ask. “Where is she?”

Sampson darts ahead of me, and I jog faster to catch up. He heads away from the elevator, towards the opposite end of the hallway. As I follow him, I run through the various possibilities where Ruby could be. There are five other condos on this floor, but what are the chances of her being in one of them? Then there’s a utility closet, a small door that opens to a trash drop⁠—

My lungs seize. She wouldn’t. Would she?

A new and horrifying image flashes before me, of Ruby yanking the little door open in her terror, flinging herself inside, and hurtling however many floors…

Another soft woof mercifully shatters the nightmarish vision. Sampson rushes to the utility room door and pushes it with his nose. As the door opens slightly, a scared yelp comes from within. A moment later, it’s followed by a frightened whimper.

“Shit,” I mutter. Heart in my throat, I race to the door and open it.

When I see Ruby inside, a surge of emotion almost brings me to my knees.

She’s curled into a tiny ball, with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees and her head ducked down. She’s shaking all over and making these awful, scared little sounds that simultaneously make me want to punch something and pick her up and take her away from all of this.

“Ruby,” I croon as I kneel by her side. I touch her arm, and she jerks. Her breathing grows more erratic. Like I’ve done when she has a nightmare, I start by reminding her who I am, where she is, and that she’s okay. That she’s safe. I repeat the same thing probably a half-dozen times before she relaxes slightly. Another few times, and her breathing evens out. Then she lifts her teary gaze to meet mine and whispers, “Micah?”

“Yeah.” I brush her hair away from her tear-dampened cheeks. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

She blinks a few times, as if she’s trying to gather herself. “I think so.” Then she glances around, and her forehead pinches in confusion. “What… Where am I?”

“The utility closet.”

“What?”

“The closet. Down the hall from my condo. I think you might have had a nightmare. Or something triggered you.”