Page 66 of Property of Fox

I follow him closely, heart pounding in rhythm with our hurried footsteps. Each room we pass feels like an ominous chapter in a horror story, my fear of finding Keira’s lifeless body in it. He clears every room except one. Mine. “Stay close,” he mutters quietly. Fox pushes open the door to my room. The moonlight spills through the window, illuminating a scene that feels eerily calm compared to our frantic atmosphere outside. It’s empty. Keira’s nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” I sob.

Fox stills in front of me, craning his neck to the left of us where Keira’s aunts expansive closet lies. “Sssh,” he mutters. “I think I heard something.” Silence falls upon us again, and this time, I hear it too. A soft whimper, barely audible butunmistakably human. My heart leaps into my throat as Fox gestures for me to stay quiet, inching toward the closet. His posture is tense, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to explode into action.

“Keira?” he calls softly, his voice low and steady. The whimper cuts through the silence again, and my blood runs cold. She's in there.

Fox reaches for the closet door. He pulls it open, revealing a dark space cluttered with clothes and shoes.

“Keira!” I whisper urgently as I peer around Fox’s shoulder. The sight that greets us steals my breath. Keira is huddled on the floor, her eyes wide with fear, hands trembling as she clutches a silver necklace—the one I’d given her for her birthday last year.

“Brea,” she cries out, her voice choked with panic as she pushes herself up unsteadily. “I thought—I thought he was going to?—”

“Shh,” Fox hushes, stepping fully into the closet and kneeling before her, “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”

“What happened?” Keira looks between us, confusion mixed with relief in her eyes as she registers the blood on my hands and the distressed look on my face.

“We’ll tell you later,” Fox interjects. “I need to get the two of you out of here and someplace safe.”

“What about?” I stammer. “We can’t just leave him there.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

With resolve hardening in his eyes, Fox doesn’t waste a moment as he motions for Keira to crawl toward him. “Come on, sweetheart. We need to go now.”

The sight of Keira so vulnerable sends another wave of panic crashing through me, but there's something in Fox's demeanor that steadies my fraying nerves. Despite the danger lurking just outside, he exudes an air of fierce determination, the kind I’ve only seen in movies.

“Are you hurt?” he asks as he offers Keira a helping hand up from her hiding spot.

“No,” she admits. “I was in my room trying to get my car keys when he broke in. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and hid in the closet.”

“You did well, sweetheart,” he commends her. “Brea, baby, can you find her some shoes?”

I look down to Keira’s bare feet. “Right,” I reply, my mind racing as I move toward the scattered piles of clothes. I frantically scan the small space for something that would fit her. My fingers brush against a pair of high-top sneakers wedged awkwardly between a colorful sundress and a dusty winter coat.

“Here!” I hold them up triumphantly to Keira, who nods gratefully as she slides her feet into them.

“Let’s go,” Fox says, glancing back toward the now-closed door. “We need to get out of this house.”

Heart pounding like a drum in my chest, I help Keira steady herself on shaky legs. Fox stands tall and imposing, his gaze fixed on the door, unease etched into every line of his face. “I want you to follow me out to the truck. Keep your heads down. Can you run?” he asks Keira, concern mingling with urgency.

She nods fiercely, determination sparking in those wide eyes that had seemed so lost just moments ago. “I can.”

“Good,” he says, visibly relaxing a fraction. “Everything is going to be okay,” Fox whispers, his voice low as he gestures for us to stick close together once more. “Just follow my lead.”

As we step out of my room and into the hallway, the atmosphere feels suffocating. My heart races louder with every step. Fox leads us cautiously down the hall, each creak of the floor beneath our feet sounding like thunder in the stillness. When we reach the entrance to the kitchen, I force myself to look away. Knowing just feet from us is a dead man.

Fox pauses at the front door, his head shifting from left to right, before he motions for us to follow him. He picks up his pace, waiting for Keira and me to both make it inside the still running truck before he gets in. “Seatbelts,” he declares as he shifts the truck into reverse and guns it.

The truck jolts backward, and I cling to the edge of my seat. My heart races with every squeal of tires on asphalt as Fox expertly navigates the streets away from that house.

Beside me, Keira is a mess. I want nothing more than to reach out for her hand but can’t quite wrap my head around anything beyond pure survival right now.

“Where are you taking us?” she whispers hoarsely.

Fox doesn’t look up from the road ahead but speaks assuredly enough that it softens something tight inside me. “To my hotel for now,” he says firmly.

“And then what?” Keira presses, her voice trembling as she shifts in her seat. I can see the uncertainty etched across her face, mirroring the dread spiraling in my own stomach.

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