Page 11 of Lethal Game

A moment later, the doors opened. There were four apartments on her floor, and everything was quiet, as it usually was. A lot of nurses and medical students lived in the building and when they weren't working long shifts, they were often sleeping.

As she reached into her bag for her keys, her hand shook once more. And the keys slipped from her grasp again. "Dammit," she swore, feeling the taste of metal in her mouth as her panic increased.

"Do you want help?" Carrie asked.

"No," she said through tight lips. She finally pulled the keys out of her bag and inserted her apartment key into the door. As she did so, she couldn't help thinking about the man whose hand had held these keys just a few hours ago.

Her fingers were shaking so badly she could barely turn the key, but finally, the lock clicked. She turned the knob and practically fell into her apartment. She took several deep breaths and then set her keys and bag on the small table by her kitchenette.

As she turned around, she saw the look on Carrie's face. "He wanted my keys," she said, drawing in another hard breath. "I couldn't find them fast enough. He grabbed the bag and dumped everything on the ground and then he put his hands on the keys."

"I'm so sorry, Alisa. You must have been terrified."

"I was, but it's over. And it feels good to be home."

She'd been thinking her apartment was way too small, but now it felt comforting to have no other rooms to wonder if someone was hiding somewhere. She could see everything, including inside her bathroom and closet because both doors were open. She needed to relax. Her attacker hadn't gotten her keys or her ID, and he was in the hospital in surgery. He wasn't coming after her. He didn't need her or her car anymore.

"Why don't you sit down, and I'll make you some tea?" Carrie suggested.

"I don't need tea. I just want to watch some mindless television. Go home, Carrie. You have to get up early for work, and I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay, but I'll keep my phone on. If you need anything, even if it's just someone to watch a stupid movie with, call me."

She gave Carrie a hug. "You're a good friend. Thank you." She walked her to the door, and after Carrie left, she turned the dead bolt.

Then she grabbed her phone out of her bag, trying not to look at her keys, which somehow were still disturbing to her. Taking her phone to the bed, she sat down, comforted by the pillowy softness surrounding her. Her apartment wasn't much, but her bed was a comfortable haven, and she could finally let go of her stress.

She checked her messages. There was nothing from her mother or father or anyone at the hospital regarding her mother's condition, which was good. But she still felt very much alone. She wanted to call her mother and tell her what had happened, but she couldn't do that. Her dad, however…

She impulsively punched in his number and waited for the ring, but it never came. Nor was there an option to leave a voicemail. She tried again. Same result. Her body tightened oncemore. She sent a text message to her dad's number. A moment later, it came back as undeliverable.

What the hell was going on? Had her father changed his number? Had his phone been disconnected?

She tried calling several more times, but nothing changed. Something was wrong, and she didn't know what to do about it.

Debating her options, she punched in Tim's number. It rang several times and went to voicemail. Instead of leaving a message, she sent him a text:Terrible night tonight. Someone tried to kidnap me from the parking garage. I'm okay but I cut my hand, and I'm really upset. Please call me. I need to talk to you.

She set her phone on the bed, waiting for him to text her back.

As the minutes ticked by, her mind turned to the man who'd saved her life. She wished he was still around. The only time she'd felt safe tonight had been with him.

But she'd probably never see him again. He was an FBI agent, and it was crazy that their paths had crossed at all. It was doubtful they'd cross again. They already had her attacker in custody, and they didn't need her to ID him. Although, she might have to talk to the FBI again when they charged him. Hopefully, he'd go to jail. And she wouldn't have to worry about him ever coming back into her life.

She picked up her phone again, wondering why Tim hadn't replied. But was it really a surprise? Things had been off with him since her mom got sick. Tim was a fun-loving guy who wasn't worth much in a crisis. She really didn't need any more information than that to know he wasn't the guy for her. But dealing with a breakup conversation was more than she could handle. Setting down the phone, she laid back and closed her eyes.

But with her eyes closed, the feeling of terror came back, and she immediately opened her eyes again. It was going to be a long night.

CHAPTER THREE

Alisa barely slept. And when the sun rose on Thursday morning, she was relieved she'd made it through the night.

Reaching for her phone, she saw a message from Tim:I can't believe what happened to you! Glad you're okay. Will check in later.

Seriously?She texted back.Can't believe that's all you have to say. Don't bother checking in. We're done.

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