Page 29 of The Woman in the Garage

Screw this.

I could come back some other time. Maybe with a bat. Or ask the staff to escort me. I dunno. All I did know was I felt like I was about to throw up. Whatever was in those boxes wasn’t worth a panic attack.

I rushed out of the unit, the padlock in my hand.

Reaching up, I dragged down the door, wincing at the racket it made.

I’d just gotten the padlock into the hole when the lights started rapidly clicking on.

Someone was coming toward me.

At a damn run.

My hands shook on the lock.

But before I could even say ‘to hell with this,’ and turn to run, a body rammed into me, sending me flying onto my butt on the hard floor.

Pain ricocheted from my butt and up my hips.

I couldn’t stop to feel the pain, though, as I scrambled onto all fours, pushed myself up to my feet, and ran.

I felt like I was choking on my heart that was suddenly wedged high up in my throat, making my head feel light and my chest tight.

I was forced to go in the opposite direction I was familiar with, further from my car, from safety.

My heartbeat was thundering in my ears as I threw myself down one of the cross hallways, then—sure I heard footfalls behind me—I made the mistake of running down another hall, one I figured would have a glowingExitsign at the end, like all of the others.

But there was nothing but a blank wall.

Shit, shit, shit.

My heart crushed in my chest as I looked around, praying for a fire extinguisher or one of those hatchets in a glass box. Did those still exist? I had no idea. All I did know was there was nothing around to use to defend myself with.

Why hadn’t I taken the damn padlock with me? One of those things could do some damage if whipped at someone’s face.

Even as I thought that, though, I turned to find an empty hallway stretched out before me.

I’d been imagining those footsteps behind me. Or they’d decided to give it up and leave me alone and get out of there before there was any real kind of trouble.

I stood there for a moment, feeling a strange sort of comfort when the lights slowly clicked off because I knew I was temporarily invisible.

I let myself take a few slow, deep breaths. I rolled my shoulders. I swallowed past that lump in my throat.

Then, sure there were no sounds around to worry about, I started moving.

I paused at the end of the hallway, looking for any signs of light or life. Finding none, I went back toward my unit, squeezed my padlock closed, then saidto hell withdecorum and ran my ass off toward the exit.

“Of course,” I grumbled as the rain spat down when I made it outside, dashing to my car, throwing myself in, and locking the door.

I didn’t even close my trunk as I sat there, hands shaking, glancing around the lot.

But there were no other cars.

If it weren’t for my sore ass, I would have assumed I’d let my overactive imagination get the better of me, that I’d been running from shadows, not an actual person.

There was no denying how much my butt hurt, though.

With that in mind, I turned over the car, reversed out of my spot, and made my way to the gates, stopping immediately on the other side of them, ready to go in and demand to see the security footage and call the police. Only to find the office was closed for the day.

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