Page 61 of Killer's Obsession
Chapter Fifteen
Memphis
An Hour Earlier
Sprawled across the twin bed in Jade’s spare room, I press the button on the remote and flip to the next channel.
Sports. No thanks.
I press the button again and sigh when it lands on Charge Television. An old episode of CSI Miami is on. Any other day, I’d be bouncing up and down, overjoyed to watch this show. I grew up watching all the ‘Who Done It’ crime-fighting, cop shows. But tonight, even Horatio Caine delivering another cheesy one-liner before dramatically putting on his sunglasses can’t make me smile.
My heart feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder after learning about Killer’s betrayal. Add in the copious amount of wine I’ve had since walking through the front door, and my head is swimming.
God, how pathetic am I?
I’m about to turn off the television completely when I hear a noise from somewhere in the apartment. I mute the sound on the television and sit up, tilting my head to listen.
My brows snap together. I don’t hear anything now.
“Jade?” I call out, waiting for her to say something back, but she doesn’t answer.
“She’s not here, you idiot.” I shake my head. “This is why I don’t drink. I start hearing shit.”And apparently I’m talking to myself, too.
I’m just overreacting. It’s probably the neighbors or something. The apartment walls are paper-thin. Lying back down on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the persistent ache in my chest.
CREAK
Heart hammering, I bolt upright. That definitely came from inside the apartment.
“Hello?” My voice comes out weak, and I clear my throat. “Jade, is that you?”
I rise onto my knees, waiting for a reply, and again I’m met with nothing but silence.
Maybe it’s just the building settling. I bite my thumbnail. They totally do that… I think.
No. This is crazy—I’m being crazy. Shaking my head, I slip off the bed and take a step towards the door when suddenly it’s shoved open. A large man, almost as big as Killer, steps into the room, and his beady eyes lock onto mine.
“No,” I breathe.
He says something in a language I don’t understand—Russian, I think—and steps further into the room.
“Stay back!” I glance around the room, looking for a way out, but there’s only one door, and he’s blocking it.
He knows I’m trapped, and he smiles like a predator bearing its teeth before it strikes.
Think, Memphis. Think! I glance around for a weapon, anything to protect myself from this guy. Grabbing the lamp off the nightstand, I hurl it in his direction, and it smashes against his chest.
He grunts but doesn’t waver.
Jesus, this fucker isn’t going down. How the hell am I going to get out of here? I glance over to the window. It’s now or never.
Planting a foot on the mattress, I leap towards the other side of the bed, but the big bastard is surprisingly fast for his size. His meaty hand grabs a fistful of my hair, and he yanks me backward. Pain explodes across my scalp, and I cry out.
“No!” I scream. “Let go of me!”
“Enough!” he snaps, his accent thick. He pulls my head back farther, exposing my throat.
I open my mouth to scream for help, but before I can even make a sound, his fist connects with my temple, and then there’s nothing but darkness.
