Page 79 of Closer

Mary: Sending kisses, love you guys, and good night ?

I set my phone aside, sinking deeper into the bath. The warmth seeps into my bones, washing away the disappointment of the evening.

But deep down, I know the truth. No matter how many dates I go on, no matter how hard I try to move on… It’s always going to be…

“Sebastian.” The name tastes bitter on my lips, and a hollow ache fills my chest.

Will I ever be able to escape him? Do I even want to?

The water begins to cool, and I shiver, my fingertips shriveled. Reluctantly, I pull the plug, watching the water swirling down the drain, taking with it my hope.

If he would trust me, everything—

A loud crash shatters the silence around me, and my head shoots toward the door. Did Mary decide to come anyway?

“Mary?”

No response. Strange. Maybe she didn’thear me.

I step out of the tub, grab a towel, and wrap it around my body. The cool air raises goosebumps on my damp skin, and I pad toward the door, leaving wet footprints in my wake.

Pressing my ear against the wood, I strain to listen. Silence. I crack the door open, peeking out into the dark hallway.

I want to call out Mary’s name again, but my voice is paralyzed, trapped within my tightening throat as a man’s voice cuts through the air. “Check the bedroom.”

That’s not Mary.

Another man answers, his tone clipped and efficient. “On it.”

My fingers tremble, and I close the door as silently as I can manage, fumbling with the lock until it clicks into place. The metallic sound feels deafening.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is similar to shouting, ‘I’m in here.’

This can’t be happening.

I back away from the door, my hands shaking as I reach for my phone on the counter. My fingers fumble with the screen, slick with bathwater and sweat.

“Come on.” I try to unlock it.

The footsteps grow louder and closer. Living room close?

I manage to type in my passcode, my thumb hovering over the emergency call button. But what if they hear me? What if they find me?

I set my phone down, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. Think, Lil, think. I scan the bathroom, looking for anything I can use as a weapon.

My gaze lands on the heavy marble soap dish. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. I grab it, clutching it tightly in my trembling hand.

The sound of heavy boots stops right outside the door. I back up against the wall. The doorknob rattles, and I hold my breath, every muscle in my body tense and ready to fight.

“It’s locked,” one of the men grunts.

I bite my lip to stifle a sob.

“Keep an eye on it,” another says.

My heart hammers against my ribs. I’m trapped. Defenseless. And I have no idea what these men want or what they’ll do if they get to me.

The edges of my vision start to blur, the bathroom fading away. I blink rapidly, trying to cling to consciousness, but the darkness creeps in. Soon, everything goes black, and a pool of blood surrounds me.

---