Page 35 of Kill For Me Kill For You
Because he wasn’t a stranger. Ruth had felt something crush her stomach and steal her breath when she saw those eyes. She imagined it was the same feeling an antelope had when it saw a pair of lion’s eyes in the long grass. Something deep and old in her brain, passed down through generations, and it yelled to her loud and clear – there isdangerhere.
Scott took her arm, she turned and saw the sign for the bathrooms. There was an alcove just a few feet away, leading to a short hallway. Two doors on the left. Ladies at the end.
‘Are you okay?’
Ruth nodded, but couldn’t speak, her chest heaving air into her lungs. Scott let go of her arm when they reached the ladies’ room, but Ruth grabbed hold of him, shoved the door open and moved quickly inside.
The bathroom was well lit, and the white tile on the floor and walls made it all the brighter, a stark contrast to the dim hallway outside. A bank of mirrors above the sinks on the left, a row of stalls on the right. Five of them, all with their doors open. No one else in the bathroom.
‘Give me a second. Please wait in here,’ she said.
Ruth made for the nearest stall, swung round and locked the door, panting, her hands pressed against the door as if she was desperately trying to hold it firm against a battering ram. Head down.
That’s when she heard a single, faintdrip. Liquid hitting tile. She focused on the ground, watched another of her tears fall toward the white tile between her feet.
Drip.
She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Not until she wiped her face, felt the wet lines on her cheeks.
She had recognized him straight away. She had never been more certain of anything in her life, and it scared the hell out of her. He’d seen her too. He’d looked straight at her as he’d plunged that knife into the meat.
And then the phrase he’d spoken to the waitress. Ruth was sure he’d said that so thatRuthcould hear it.
He’d found her. He’d come for her. To kill the only person alive who could possibly identify him.
She sat down on the toilet seat just in time. She couldn’t have held on much longer. Breathing was becoming more difficult, as if someone had their hands around her throat, or – worse still – a rag covering her mouth. There was not enough oxygen in this whole hotel for her – she needed air, or she would choke and die.
And then she remembered something her counselor had told her.
She was in control of her body. All of it. Her breathing, her heart rate, everything.
Shutting her eyes, Ruth began the breathing exercises she’d learned. A big breath in – hold it for five – exhale and repeat. She rolled her shoulders, tensed her core.
It was no good. Panic flooded her veins, and two words resounded in her head like a siren in a tunnel.
It’s him. It’s him. It’s him . . .
‘Ruth, are you okay?’ asked Scott.
The exercises weren’t working. She hid her face in her hands. She knew she had to get the hell out of the restaurant. Get away fast, and it took everything she had to stand, and compose herself to be able to think and move.
She left the bathroom stall, saw Scott leaning against the sinks opposite, and took his hand.
‘You okay?’ asked Scott.
‘W-w-we have to leave, r-r-right now. There’s a man sitting at a table alone on his own. Come and see.’
Scott took her hand, and they walked out of the bathroom to the end of the hallway, until the man came into view.
‘There,’ she said, pointing.
The man was finishing his steak, chewing the last morsel. He was the only diner sitting alone. Scott turned back to Ruth, a puzzled look on his face.
‘He’s not familiar,’ said Scott.
Ruth pointed again and the two words that screamed inside her mind now spilled from her lips – and she had never said anything with as much certainty and conviction as she did now.
‘That’shim. That’s the man who attacked me,’ she said.
