Page 60 of Lethal Seduction

The back of my head is throbbing, but the rest of my body feels like it's floating in suspended animation. My eyes are closed, and something tells me to keep them that way.

What just happened? Where am I? Why does my head hurt so fucking bad?I feel like I’ve been drugged.

Drugged! That’s right. Jake gave me a beer, and I drank it. He roofied my beer. I pretend to still be unconscious and open my eyes, but just a slit. I'm still in his bathroom, but I’m lying on the tiled floor. There's no sign of him, but surely, he is close by. What the hell do I do? My body slowly begins to feel like my own again; my arms and legs tingle as they come back to life. My internal fight-or-flight is kicking in hard. Sweat forms on my upper lip, and goosebumps spread across my body. I'm ready for a fight, but deep down just want to run away.

The bathroom door creaks as Jake enters the small room and stands over me. I’ve closed my eyes but can feel his presence. One foot on either side of my chest, he stares down at me. Is he trying to figure out the best way to kill me? I hear the shower curtain tear off the metal rings holding it to the bar.

I’ve seen enough true crime to know this isn’t good. Only time killers use plastic is to dismember and dispose of the body. I need to act and act fast. Within a few seconds, Jake takes the curtain and grabs ahold of my legs, dragging me out of the bathroom.

Where the hell is he taking me?

He pulls me down the hallway toward the living room. He must want more room to do the dirty work. I frantically search my surroundings from my current vantage point and find his bow and quiver full of arrows. There's one arrow lying on the floor next to the other items, and it looks like we are going right past it.

As he drags me past the weapon, I grab for it, my hand gripping it tight. He notices my sudden movement and drops my legs, lunging for me. Without hesitation, I stab at him. Over and over, I plunge the arrow tip toward him, but each damn time he manages to move out of the way.

He stands and backs up a step. I sit, holding the arrow in front of me like a shield from his onslaught. As I make it to my feet, my head swirls, causing me to stumble one step back. It's all Jake needs to move on me. He grabs me in an instant, pulling me around, his arm pressed against my neck. Gripping the shaft as tight as I can, I jab the arrow into his thigh. Never have I ever stabbed something, but I can tell I’ve done a little damage. He releases the pressure around my neck and screams in pain. Attempting to pull the arrow back out to do it again proves impossible. My hands are slick with blood and sweat, and I can't secure my grip. Instead, I elbow back and knock him in the jaw. He stumbles backward, holding his face in his hands.

I rush at him like we learned in the self-defense class at work, but as I reach for him, he sidesteps and sends me sprawling across the floor. Looking back, I watch in horror as he turns to face me, sucking air through his teeth. The savageness in his eyes scares me more than the arrow he pulls from his own body and now holds up like a dagger.

“Jake,” I say. “Please don’t kill me.”

He takes a step toward me.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I swear I’ll just go to work and pretend none of this ever happened.”

Another step closer.

I'm running out of space and time. I scramble to my feet and rush toward the front door. This time, I only manage a few steps when he trips me. Now, flat down on my stomach, he puts his knee to my back and ties my hands behind me with what feels like duct tape.

Jake sits me up against the wall and tapes my legs together as well.

“Don’t think for a second I hadn’t overheard you and Tina talking about your little bet. Who was going to get me to have sex with them first. Had you just tried a little harder the other night, we could have had something special… you and me,” he says. “But then… you went and found yourself a cop instead. Was I not good enough for you?”

I open my mouth to speak, but he slaps a piece of tape across it.

“Don’t say a word,” he says. “It’s too late for talking.”

26

MICHAEL

Ipace the office, back and forth so many times that my partner Joe finally asks me to sit down because I’m making him anxious. How can I sit at a time like this? My entire world is imploding. My boyfriend isn’t returning my calls, thinks that I’ve been lying to him, and no one has seen him for quite a while. It isn’t like him to just up and disappear.

My mind flashes back to all the strange things he’s told me have been going on lately. His apartment being broken into, losing his work badge and keys, and even his neighbor Diamond saying there’s been a man lurking about a while back.

Is Patrick in danger?

If he’s in danger, it’s all my fault. If we’d never been interrupted by one of my past dates at dinner, he’d never have gone AWOL. If we’d continued on the way things were progressing, Patrick would be at my house in bed waiting for me to return from work.

Dammit, I’m freaking out right now. Patrick, where are you?

“Dude,” Joe says. “I know that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’re internalizing everything that goes wrong in the world. Twisting it up into an unfixable knot and then blaming yourself for it.” Joe rests a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

Joe is right. He almost always knows me better than I know myself. I shake my head. “Thank you, but no.”

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