Page 43 of Seek Him Like Shelter

It was exactly where I left it, and I plunged my hand in to grab my phone before I started to zip it closed.

It was right then that I heard something.

A shuffling.

There was no reason for the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. This was a pretty public event. And it was a school, besides, and there was likely maintenance staff around as well as a security guard to make sure no one was messing around with school property.

I had no expectation of privacy in the locker room. Hell, even the makeup artist was probably hanging around to gather her things.

Still, though, paranoia had my stomach twisting and my heart hammering before I could even swivel my head around and try to find the source of the sound.

“Hello?” I called, wincing at how much I sounded like one of those stupid girls in a horror movie even as I did the exact same thing one of those dumb girls would do… started to walk around the rows of lockers, looking for the source of the sound. Instead of, I don’t know, going back out into the gym where I would be safe.

A sick sensation rose up my throat as I heard the shuffle again, but this time coming from the row where I’d just walked away from.

Making my footsteps as quiet as possible, I inched forward toward the end of the row of lockers, intent on peeking around and trying to calm my nerves.

But as soon as I stepped out from the relative protection of the lockers, I saw him.

My mind flashed back to my apartment, to the figure all in black charging at me, hitting me, then issuing one final threat before disappearing again.

For a split second, I tried to tell myself that there were lots of people here, that there was no reason to assume he was here to hurt me.

Until I remembered it was summer.

And there was absolutely no reason for a man to be wearing a hoodie, with the hood up, unless he was trying not to be recognized.

Panic, already swirling, surged, making my pulse pound in my chest, throat, and wrists as a cold sweat broke out across my neck and back, chilling me instantly.

I needed to run.

But he was standing directly in front of my exit back into the gym, where I would be, hopefully, safe.

I opened my mouth, ready to scream, just as the crowd in the gym erupted in outrage, people yelling, cursing, the cameras likely catching all of it.

I was about to lose hope when I remembered that this was a public building that had to live up to fire safety protocols. Meaning there had to be another exit from this locker room.

Decision made, I turned and ran back into the row of lockers, finding myself dead-ending at the bathroom with its stalls that would provide only the illusion of safety. Anyone could get over or under them if they were determined enough. Why weren’t stalls full rooms?

On a whimper as the chaos seemed to reach a fever pitch in the gym, I flew down another row of lockers, then took a hairpin turn when I saw him appear, taking me back down the other way.

It was then I saw it.

A door.

Thank God.

I flew at it, for once glad that the senator was so insecure about his height, because I would be much slower in heels. And, I guess, I had to thank my mother’s side of the family for my long, athletic legs too as I flew through the door and into an empty hallway lined in nothing but lockers, minus the deadbolts that would be there during the school year.

As I ran, I silently wished for once that I was one of those petite, dainty women. The kind who could save themselves by slipping around a corner, climbing into an open locker, and just waiting things out.

Alas, I was not that.

So all I could do was run, ever aware of the pounding of feet behind me, not exactly gaining, but keeping pace, making it so that if I slowed at all, tripped, or paused to try to open a door, he might catch up to me.

I took a turn down the hall, seeing nothing at the end of my path but a staircase moving up.

My thighs started to burn, but I was safe if I kept moving, kept pace ahead of him.

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