Page 86 of Break The Ice

Am I going to die here?

Is he going to take me now?

I want to attack him, howl at him, begging and demanding he answer ‘why are you doing this? Why?’, and I want to scream that I hate him! All that sound is locked in my chest, refusing to come out even louder than a whisper of noise.

I hear a sound, a click, and the door handle stops moving. At first, it’s a relief, but, quickly, my fear grows even more intense. I tense, straining my ears, listening for any clue of what’s going to happen. I glance around, looking for a weapon, but there’s nothing.

The rough sounds of a humming tune reach me from beyond the door. My hand trembles, and my knuckles ache with how hard I grip the towel.

I lift my other hand and shove my fist into my mouth, biting hard to stop the scream that’s rising.

That’s the song my mother used to sing to me when it rains.

How does he know about that? How close was he?

I sink down to my butt on the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees while he continues to hum. Continues to torment me.

Why won’t he let me go?

He suddenly bangs on the door, tearing a scream from me. The door handle turns really fast, over and over. He bangs again, once, twice. He’s going to break in! I inhale and scream again, louder this time.

How does he know that song?

He found me!

I crawl across the floor to the bathroom, sobbing. My knee slips out, smacking the door frame hard, but I keep going. I slip on the wet tiles, but it doesn’t stop me as I slam the door shut and flick the lock. I get as far from the door as I can and huddle there.

In my mind, I hear my mother singing the song, and, for the first time, I can almost remember the words. He’s hummed the tune before, many times. How did I not remember that? Perhaps it’s because I’ve come home?

I can’t stay like this and let him win.

I explode up and drag on my dirty clothes. In the pocket of my jumper, I find the phone Kelly gave me. Do I call the guys or the cops? I hesitate over the button, unsure which one to choose.

There’s no sound coming from the other room. Nothing.

I carefully slide along the wall and put my ear to the door. I count to sixty, but I don’t hear a single thing.

I step back and carefully pull it open, ready to slam it closed again. A fleeting, desperate scan of the room reveals nothing. Not a single thing.

Just the bed.

The door is closed.

Did he leave? I approach the hotel door and listen hard. When I don’t hear anything, I pull the door open and look out. It’s just an empty carpeted hallway with the occasional plastic fern.

Where did he go? No, that’s not the right question. The question is, how did he know I would be here? How does he keep finding me?

I go back into the hotel room and start pacing. Is he going to hurt the guys? Should I be worried about that?

Is he going to hurt me? I just don’t know anything anymore. I sit on the bed and the joy I had before is long gone. Now I just feel defeated. I can’t escape him. That much is clear.

I just need to figure out how he gets this information. How is he tracking me? I got rid of all social media accounts years ago. I don’t have a phone. Hell, I even changed all my belongings and clothes just in case he had them bugged. I took my camera to a professional and had them check it over. There is nothing that can give me away.

Which means the only answer is that he’s so close he’s able to track me simply by following me.

I rub my chin, but when someone knocks on the door, I get up and cautiously walk to it.

It doesn’t occur to me that it would be anyone else but the guys or my stalker. I should have known better.

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