Page 59 of Lethal Seduction

Pulling out my phone, I check for a message. Damn, the phone is dead. How long has it been like that? Looking around the living room, I search for a charger that might fit my phone but don't find one. Oh, well. I'll be leaving here soon enough.

Jake walks back in from the kitchen with a cold beer in each hand. “Here you go,” he says with a smile. “We’ve gone through almost my full twelve-pack between last night and today.”

“Sorry about that,” I say. “I’ll definitely restock you when I get paid.”

He shrugs. “No worries.”

We clink bottles and take a few swigs in silence. My senses are heightened, and the energy in the room feels different. Jake's mood seems to have changed, although I don’t have any way to prove it. There's something about the way he sips his beer. What the hell is wrong with me? He's not acting any differently. Clearly, I'm still just paranoid from what happened at the restaurant last night. Not everyone is out to screw you over, I remind myself.

“Do you have to work today?” I ask.

Jake shakes his head. “I’ve got the whole day off.” He turns to me and wags his eyebrows suggestively. “How about you?”

My stomach tightens. Jake really wants to mess around, and I don't. I'll have to play it cool and figure out a way to get out of here without hurting his feelings. After all, he's been so kind tostay up all night with me while I bitched and moaned about my date with Michael.

“I’ve got to work,” I say. “I should have been on my way already, but the only one who really pays attention to the timeclock is Devon. He’s a freak about everyone else’s schedule.”

“God, he’s such a jerk. The other day he walked up to me and asked if I knew the difference between a Fuzzy Navel and Sex on the Beach. Supposedly, a client complained about the drink I made, and he threw a fit with me because he said I was dipping into his tips with my incompetence.”

“Dude,” I say. “Uncalled for. Did you tell him to back off?”

He smirks. “I leaned across the bar and told him in no uncertain terms that I would slit his throat and tear out his tongue if he spoke to me like that again.”

The look in Jake’s eyes is a tiny bit unsettling. Could it be the dehydration from two days of alcohol and no water? Or is he really as crazy as he just made himself sound? Trying desperately not to react, especially with my facial expressions, I blink a few times and laugh. It's not my best attempt at a fake laugh, but under the circumstances, I feel it's passable.

“I bet he didn’t sass talk you again after that.”

He shakes his head and gulps down some beer. “You bet your sweet ass he didn’t.”

My sweet ass? Here we go again. The look on Jake’s face gives me pause. Is it lust? Anger? Super hard to tell. I could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes, but they also seem really hard and a bit off-putting. I quickly down the rest of my beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, be my guest.” He points down the hallway. “It’s on the right.”

Maybe if I dilly dally a little bit in there, he will lose interest, and I can go home and get ready for work. Gettingup from the couch is a little harder than I thought. Again, I must be dehydrated or something because my head is spinning. Somehow, I make it to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I look in the mirror and gasp. My eyes are super bloodshot, and my pupils are huge.

What the hell?

I turn on the cold water and splash some on my face. Next, I drink at least four full hands worth of water from the tap, which is definitely not something I usually do, especially at someone else’s home. Germs… especially in the bathroom.

The cold water tingles as I splash it again on my cheeks. My face feels like it's on fire, and the water is like hundreds of tiny needles poking me over and over again. I’ve never felt like this before. Am I sick? Do I have a fever?

I pull open his medicine cabinet to see if he has any Tylenol. There are multiple prescription bottles, but nothing I recognize. Next, I open the vanity drawer and begin moving things around, hoping to find something to relieve my symptoms.

That’s when I notice it. How the hell did he get this? I pull on the lanyard and take a closer look. Sure enough, it’s my work badge, keys, and identification. My stomach tightens once again, and I turn back to the mirror. If Jake stole my stuff, then could he be… the killer? Oh shit, my mind starts swirling with all the possibilities. I’m instantly wracking my brain to make sense of it all.

My heart races as I lean in closer to the mirror. My vision begins to narrow, and I feel like I might pass out. Then it dawns on me. I’m not sick; Jake has poisoned me… he must have roofied me. What am I going to do? I reach for my phone again but remember the battery is dead.

Right then, the bathroom door crashes open. Jake stands in the doorway. I sense pure evil as he steps closer to me, eyes locked onto mine. There isn’t anywhere for me to run or hide.

“You shouldn’t go through people’s things,” he says.

I turn and reach for the windowsill above the toilet. If only I can get to it before he attacks, but my feet feel like they're stuck in cement.

“Not so fast,” Jake says behind me.

A thump to the back of my head is the last thing I feel as my vision tunnels and my world goes black.

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