Page 5 of Forged in Flames (Made of Steel 2)

"Sadie..."

Her words died away as the door closed behind me. I ran down the hall and the stairs until I burst through the front doors of the dorm building. The fresh air helped clear my head. I wasn't crazy. I had been kidnapped. My new identity was compromised. I'd been made. I pulled out my phone and tried Mr. Crawford again. The mocking tone of the woman saying, "this number is no longer in service," echoed in my ears. Shit. I typed in "witness protection program New York City" into Google on my phone.

There were a bunch of articles about what it was like to live in the witness protection program from The New Yorker and The New York Times. I didn't need to know what it was like. I was fucking living it. I clicked on a link to the U.S. Marshals Service and scrolled through the contact names. How was the equal employment opportunity contact going to help me? Finally I found a link for local contacts and found the section for New York City. I shouldn't have been surprised that Mr. Crawford's name wasn't on the list. But I was surprised. Was he involved in this too? I didn't think so. He had always tried to help me. What the hell was happening?

I wanted to throw my phone. Instead, I went back to my contacts list, clicked on Mr. Crawford's name, and put my phone to my ear. Please pickup. Please let him be okay. Please.

The screeching noise blasted into my ear again. "This number is no longer in service. This number is no longer in service."

Damn it! I turned around in a circle. What was I supposed to do? God. I put my hand on the side of my neck. It felt like someone was strangling me again. It felt like I was suffocating. All I wanted to do was find the vigilante's number in my phone. I wanted him to take away my worries and fears. I wanted him to protect me. I wanted him to fix everything I had broken.

But I didn't know him. I looked back at my dorm. I didn't know anyone here. I was in a strange city with a bunch of strangers who I couldn't trust. I didn't have a choice. I had to go to the police. They were the only ones that could help me. They had to.

I started running as fast as I could. I knew where one of their departments was. I had passed it the first day I had met Liza. Maybe I should have looked one up in a less sketchy part of town, but I didn't have time to analyze my decision. I needed answers. I needed help.

By the time I reached the precinct, I was completely out of breath. I pushed through the doors. Part of me expected it be like a TV show with someone rushing toward me to help. But I knew better than that. I stared at the most likely bullet proof glass separating me from the officers on the other side. No one even looked up at me. I was done being invisible. I was done not being heard. It was their job to serve and protect. I needed protection.

With a deep breath, I stormed up to the glass divider and slammed my fist against it.

An officer on the other side looked up from his computer. "I'll be right with you, ma'am." He looked back down at his screen.

I pounded on the glass again. "It's an emergency!"

He sighed and slowly got up from his desk. And he walked away from me. He fucking walked away from me.

I slammed my fist against the glass again. "Someone is after me. I need help!"

A door opened to the left of the glass. The officer that had walked away was standing there with his arms folded. "This way, then."

> I most likely had approached this all wrong. Being demanding and angry wasn't how to get results. They were just going to hate me. I tried to calm down as I followed the officer through the door.

"Wait here." He gestured to a row of chairs. There was a guy with his hands handcuffed to the chair at the end of the row. I wasn't a criminal. I sat down in a chair as far away from the criminal as possible.

Cops bustled around with files, no one glancing at me. A police officer slamming down his desk phone made me turn my head. He looked pissed. Hopefully I wouldn't get him. I needed someone calm and understanding. My stomach dropped when he stood up and approached me.

"I'm Detective Lewis." He put his hand out to me.

I didn't want to touch him. I knew I'd feel flames. Instead of being normal, I tucked my hands under my thighs on the chair. "I'm Sadie Davis."

He lowered his eyebrows slightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "What's your emergency?"

"I...I was kidnapped." I knew it sounded crazy. If I was truly kidnapped, I wouldn't be sitting here. He wasn't going to believe me.

He lowered both his eyebrows. "Were you assaulted?"

"Yes. I was hit in the back of the head with a gun. And then I woke up in my dorm room."

He shook his head like my story was unbelievable. "Follow me."

I got up from the chair and followed him to his desk. He gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk from him. I sat down.

"Sadie Davis," he said as he touched the mouse for his computer. "Do you have some ID?"

"Yes, but actually, that's part of the reason that I'm here. My real name is Summer Brooks. I'm in the witness protection program. But my cover's been compromised. And my contact isn't answering his phone. It's been disconnected."

Detective Lewis just stared at me.

"I'm in the program because of my foster father. There's a no contact order between me and him. But he left Colorado and he's in New York. He followed me here even though he wasn't supposed to leave the state. He's awaiting trial."

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