Page 3 of Delicate Escape

My feet hurried across the cracked pavement and up the chipped concrete steps. Punching in the code to the building, I waited for the buzz and stepped inside. I quickly shut the door behind me, making sure it latched, then moved to the door marked1B.

I unlocked the deadbolt, then the doorknob. When the door swung open, a beep sounded. A deep meow greeted me as I plugged in the alarm code.

“Hi, Moose,” I said to the dark room—dark because every curtain in the place was pulled.

When I landed the tiny apartment, I’d loved it for itswindows—all that natural light. Now, all I had was the artificial kind.

I flicked on the switch as Moose wound through my legs. As soon as I threw the deadbolt, I bent to pick him up, grunting as I lifted all eighteen pounds of his Maine Coon self. He instantly began to purr, butting his head against my chin.

I cuddled him close, letting the sound and feel of his gray fur soothe me. “What do you think? Time to leave LA? Maybe we could land somewhere with a yard. I could teach you to walk on a leash.”

Moose let out a warbled meow as if to say:What the hell, lady?

I chuckled. “Okay, pause on the leash training. How about some dinner?”

Another meow.

I grinned as I set him down, keeping the tote bag over my shoulder. My hands trembled as I moved through the space, flicking on light after light. That slight shake told the truth. Brendan really had won.

My life here was done. The only option I had was to leave—and pray he didn’t feel vindictive enough to mess with my life wherever I landed.

I felt for the kitchen light and flicked it on. The counter was in complete disarray. Fruit from the bowl had spilled out, and I noticed an orange with what looked like teeth and claw marks in it. I gave Moose the side-eye. “Playing soccer again?”

He licked his paw and scrubbed it over his face.

Then, I saw the true goal of his mischief. The treat feeder with its camera had been knocked over, looking like it had been bashed around. I righted it and put the unharmed fruit back into the bowl.

“Seriously? The vet says you’re already overweight.”

I swore Moose glared at me. Then he let out a bellowing meow.

“Don’t give me that kind of back talk or no treats after dinner.”

He hissed.

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. At least I hadMoose. No matter how bad things got, he always managed to make me laugh.

Setting my tote bag on the counter, I set to work putting away my produce, trying to dodge the swipes of Moose’s paws along the way. As I tidied, I began concocting a recipe in my mind. One of my favorite challenges was coming up with something based on whatever had looked best at the farmers market.

I’d have to get more creative with my lack of salary now, but that would just make the game more challenging. We were finally in peach season, so I grabbed two. I’d also snagged some of the first mini heirloom tomatoes of the season. That, with some burrata, herbs, and balsamic, would be perfect with the crusty bread I’d bought from the local baker’s stall.

My stomach rumbled as if agreeing with my plan. As I began pulling out ingredients, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. A cacophony of dings followed—every kind of alert my phone could give. Text. Email. Phone call. All at once.

My alarm system let out a warning beep—the kind that said if I didn’t input the code in two minutes, it would go haywire. Then the stereo burst to life, blaring some rock song, the television following suit at a deafening level.

Moose let out an annoyed yowl. I hurried toward the alarm pad, plugging in the code as I pulled out my phone, still buzzing angrily in my pocket. The screen was filled with a laundry list of notifications, but they moved too fast for me to focus on any of them. And the dings just kept sounding.

I silenced the phone and tapped on my email. The inbox read: one thousand six hundred and fifty-three. My heart rate picked up speed. I’d hadsixunread messages this morning. That was it.

I tried to scan the subject lines, but they moved too fast as more poured in. I could only grasp a few. Warnings about my credit being compromised. Ads for penis enhancement and weight loss. And porn. So much porn. The kind that turned your stomach.

Exiting out of my inbox, I clicked on my texts. Message after message. Too many to count. There was one chain from my bank.

Did you approve this charge? $1,309.13 to Sex Toys, Inc.

Did you approve this charge? $10,237.53 to Hollywood Escorts.

Charge after charge. Each one worse than the one before. Then my blood ran cold.

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