Page 56 of Captivating Anika

It doesn’t take long to figure out someone is the one for you when you’ve already been half in love with them for years.

Anika

“I know, Mom.”

Of course, she calls me as I’m getting ready to head out. So much for getting to the salon early to get some paperwork out of the way I haven’t had a chance to look at in a while.

It’s funny, last night she was in no way done making me feel guilty for keeping stuff from her. This morning, however, she’s ready to do her helicopter thing.

“It’s only because I love you.”

There’s the guilt again.

“I know, but have you ever heard the saying; if you love it let it go?”

I hear a soft snort, but no further reaction to that.

“Mom, this, right here, was the main reason I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m glad Mrs. Winters had good success with her magnetic bracelet, but I don’t want one.”

“Well, but what about the acupuncturist? I could call and see if they could fit you in?”

I shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming.

“Mom,” I start, hanging on to the very last strand of my patience. “Hear me, and hear me well. Acupuncture is not currently part of the plan my doctor and I have worked on to manage these conditions. More importantly—and I can’t stress this enough—I do not need my mother calling for me, or making my appointments. For Chrissake, Mom, I’m not six, I’ll turn forty this year. I run my own business, I have my own house, I think I can handle looking after my own appointments.”

It’s dead silent on the other side, and before she gathers up enough steam to formulate a response, I quickly round off this conversation.

“I have to go and get to work. I love you, and I’ll give you a call later this week.”

With that I hang up, take a deep breath, and grab my keys and bag before heading out the door.

On my way to the salon, I stop to pick up a few things we’re running short on. We go through coffee and cream like you wouldn’t believe, and I don’t want to risk not finding any when I get there. This morning is definitely turning out to be a three-cup morning.

After parking the truck behind the salon and getting out, I’m about to grab my groceries from behind my seat, when I find myself glancing up at the apartment, and notice something odd. It almost looks like the door might be open.

Is it possible Kim came back?

Keeping my eyes on the apartment, I ease the truck door shut and make my way to the bottom of the stairs. Putting my foot on the first step, I’m already pulling my phone from my pocket, when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind and it slips from my hand. Before I can yell out, a hand clamps over my mouth and I’m lifted clear off my feet.

For a moment, I’m so shocked I can’t move, but then the stench of stale sweat—and something else pungent I can’t put my finger on—assaults me and triggers my instinct to fight. And fight I do, as I’m hauled backward and pulled into the enclosure under the stairs we use to store our recyclables. He abruptly removes his arm from around me—leaving only the hand covering the bottom half of my face—and I fight even harder.

Until I feel the tip of something sharp pressed into the soft skin just below my jaw.

“Stop fucking struggling,” he hisses right by my ear, breathing heavily. “Or I will cut you.”

The alcohol fumes coming from him nearly have me pass out.

There’s nothing like feeling your heartbeat pulsing against the edge of what I’m sure is a blade of some sort. I freeze, but my eyes don’t stop scanning the road I’m just able to see between the slats of the fencing.

“Much better,” he mumbles. “Now, where is she?”

The idiot’s hand is still covering my mouth, so I growl behind it. He clues in and lifts it, but only a fraction, while at the same time pressing the knife a bit deeper.

“Where the fuck is she?” he repeats.

He doesn’t know?

“I…” I have to swallow to clear my throat. “I don’t know. I thought she was with you.”

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