Page 4 of Can You Take It?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, cutting me off before I can get a word out. I pull it out and see Cassie’s name on the screen. I shoot Liam a quick, apologetic glance before answering. “Hey, Cass, what’s up?”

“Izel, I’m back home. The party was a total disaster. I don't want to be alone right now. Can you please come over?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way,” I assure her, then hang up and shove my phone back into my pocket.

I turn back to Liam, taking a step toward him. “Hey, something came up. I have to go.”

I feel the heaviness of the moment settle between us, and when Liam glances at his car, then back at me, I sense his offer before he even speaks. “I can drop you home.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” I say, genuinely grateful for his offer.

But then, out of nowhere, Liam leans in for a kiss, and I’m caught completely off guard. He grabs my arm tightly, pulling me towards him. His other hand snakes around my waist, trapping me against his body. I feel his hands starting to grope me inappropriately, moving over my hips and up my sides.

“Liam, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand.

His fingers soon make their way to my breasts, gripping and squeezing them in a way that feels both invasive and violating. Panic courses through my veins, and I struggle harder, desperately pushing him away.

“Stop, Liam! Knock it off!” I yell.

But he doesn't stop. His grip tightens, and I can’t believe what’s happening. He shoves me against the nearest wall, crashing his lips into mine. “Liam, stop!” I plead, pushing him off with all my strength.

He keeps kissing and biting my neck, and his actions grow more aggressive and frightening. “Liam, for fuck’s sake, stop!” I scream, but it’s like he doesn’t hear me.

My instincts kick in, and without thinking, I deliver a powerful kick right where it counts. Liam doubles over, groaning in pain, and I seize the opportunity to make a run for it.

I keep running, my breath is coming in ragged gasps, but I don’t dare look back. I need to get away, to find help.

I burst through the road and nearly collide with a man standing at the entrance of my apartment. He’s wearing a hoodie pulled up over his head, and in his hand, he’s holding a knife.

“Shit!” I gasp, scrambling to skid to a stop, but he’s already moving. He lunges at me, so I twist to the side, feeling the blade slice through my leggings and graze my skin. Pain flares in my side, but I don’t stop.

I swing my arm at him, connecting with his arm. He grunts, stumbling back a step. I press the advantage, kicking out at his knee. He goes down, but not before he slashes at my leg. I scream as the knife sinks above my ankle, hot pain radiating up through my body.

“Fuck!” I yell, clutching my leg. The guy scrambles to his feet and takes off, disappearing into the night. I’m left standing there, bleeding and shaking, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

I hear footsteps pounding down the road behind me, and I know it’s Liam. I try to move, but my leg buckles under me. For a split second, I don’t know if he’s here to help or hurt me again. But when he drops to his knees beside me, I know he’s back to his senses.

“Izel! Are you okay? Jesus Christ, what happened?” he stammers, his hands hovering over me, unsure where to touch.

I glare at him. “What the hell do you think happened, Liam? You happened! And then some psycho with a knife did this to me! I need help, not questions.”

Liam’s face pales as he takes in the blood pouring from my leg. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” He fumbles for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dials 911.

“Hello? I need an ambulance! My friend’s been stabbed. Yes, she’s bleeding a lot. We’re at 45 Elm Street. Please, hurry!” He hangs up.

I hear the distant wail of sirens, and relief floods through me. The sound grows louder, and soon, flashing lights illuminate the street.

Chapter 2

RICHARD

I’m staring at the grim board plastered with pictures of our latest victim, Olivia Davis. It’s a chilling reminder of the evil that looms in the corners of our city.

I’m busy studying the crime scene photos when Luna and Noah walk in. Luna’s a sharp detective, and Noah’s a tech genius, making them an invaluable part of my team. They’re here for our daily discussion on the case that’s been haunting us.

“Hey, Profiler,” Luna greets me. The nickname doesn’t bother me; it’s been attached to my role in these investigations for years.

I nod at her, and we dive into the gruesome details. The way Olivia’s body was placed in a ritualistic form is chillingly similar to the previous murders, and the blood splatter is scattered all over, signifying a deeply personal kill.

---