Page 1 of Let Her Hide

PROLOGUE

The coldness of the metal floor seeped into Carrie's bones as she peeled her cheek from its unforgiving surface. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the dimly lit confines of what appeared to be a storage container – something like a modified boxcar. The air was stale and heavy, pressing down on her chest like an invisible weight.

"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible. She tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt weak, like jelly held together by frayed strings.

Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out a low hum she could just make out in the distance. Panic clawed at her insides, and she struggled to think back to how she had ended up here. A memory flickered like a dying candle; a blow to the head, a rush of pain, and then darkness.

A face flashed in her mind – a man's face. She couldn't remember who he was, but she knew that he had done this to her. He'd knocked her out after she'd left her job at the supermarket--she remembered that much. She felt a surge of anger and fear, wondering if she would ever be able to escape this hell.

As she wracked her brain for answers, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in grave danger, that every second that ticked by was another step closer to an unthinkable fate. But no matter how hard she tried, the details remained frustratingly out of reach, slipping through her fingers like water.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Carrie knew she had to stay calm if she were ever to escape this place, but with each passing moment, the walls seemed to close in tighter around her, suffocating her. She needed to focus on the present, on what she could control, and not dwell on the past. She had to get out of there.

Carrie's fingers traced the cold metal walls, her breath shallow and uneven. She moved cautiously, feeling her way around the confining space. There was a sliver of light coming from somewhere, but she couldn't identify where. As she reached the far end of the container, she found a door sturdy and immovable.

Part of her wanted to call for help, but she reminded herself that whoever had put her here--that man--was likely the only one around. If she alerted him that she'd woken up, maybe he'd come finish her off faster. Carrie couldn't think like that--she had to stay focused. But as she tried to pry open the door quietly as she could, she couldn't stop her emotions from welling up.

Life was just starting to look up for her.

She'd left her ex-boyfriend, she'd started a new job, and things were going well... and now this. It had to be a nightmare, right? Maybe she'd wake up soon...

The door wouldn't open, so Carrie moved on. As she continued her search, she discovered a small opening just above eye level. No bigger than a fist. This was it--the source of the small stream of light. Climbing onto a nearby crate, she peered through the hole, squinting against the sudden intrusion of sunlight.

Suddenly, she felt a faint breeze from within the hole, accompanied by a low humming. The noise she'd heard earlier.

Carrie froze, her blood running cold as the sound grew louder.

And then she saw it: a wasp.

Its wings buzzed frantically as it flew closer to the hole, hovering just inches from her face. Carrie's heart raced as the wasp lingered, its movements erratic and unpredictable. She held her breath, waiting for it to leave, but it just stayed there, staring at her with its beady eyes.

She felt a sudden urge to swat at the insect, to smash it into the wall and be done with it. But she knew that any sudden movement could attract unwanted attention. So, she stayed still, hoping that the wasp would eventually lose interest and fly away so she could see past it.

Then, the buzzing grew louder.

More wasps appeared behind the other one, so many that they all began to push in through the hole before Carrie could even blink. She screamed and fell back, landing painfully against the cold metal floor as the insects poured in, filling the crate with their incessant buzzing. There were so many of them they blocked the only light, and Carrie scrambled away as fast as she could--only to meet with another wall.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Carrie stumbled backward, her hands trembling as she felt for another way out. But the walls were closing in tighter now, the air hot and thick with the sound of thousands of buzzing wings. She was trapped, surrounded on all sides by a swarm of angry wasps.

Panic seized her, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way out. She couldn't outrun them, couldn't fight them off. They were everywhere, crawling over her skin, stinging her with their sharp, needle-like appendages. She screamed, the sound echoing off the metal walls of the container.

But there was no one there to hear her screams.

As the fiery-hot pain of the stings overtook her, her mind faded to black. She could only lie there and wonder, of all the people that man could have taken--why her?

CHAPTER ONE

The basement gym of the FBI's Portland headquarters was shrouded in shadows, with only a few fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Fiona's fists slammed into the heavy bag, her knuckles wrapped tightly beneath her training gloves. Sweat poured down her face, but she ignored it, focusing on the rhythmic sound of her strikes against the leather. She had been training for hours, pushing herself to the limit, but she knew that the only way to succeed was to keep going.No matter how much her muscles ached.

After another blow, she stopped for a moment, catching her breath, and looked around the empty gym. It was late, and most of her colleagues had already gone home for the night. But she couldn't rest, not yet.

A month had passed since she found Marissa, the woman who knew something about her sister Joslyn's disappearance, dead in her cell. The image haunted her, fueling her determination to become stronger. Kickboxing had become her refuge over the past few weeks, her way of regaining control over her life.

But she had to admit, training without Jake had been difficult.

She'd been focused on building her muscles and endurance and reminded herself that she didn't need him to train her. Once she passed the FBI's physical fitness test, they would put her through training, either here or at the academy in Virginia, depending on how ready Chief Whittaker deemed her to be.

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