Page 104 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Eddie Hanson,” she breathed.

Pure, visceral terror swept through her, bringing much-needed energy to her mind and body. But even though she felt more able to move, she was frozen in place by the sight of the man in front of her. His presence filled the tiny room they’d been using to go over her testimony, as though black tendrils of evil emanated from his very pores.

But… it didn’t make any sense.

She’d been talking to the ADA, and then… nothing. Annabelle glanced behind him at the old wooden credenza, which now stood wide open. Had she been in there? Uncontrollable shivers racked her body as her eyes darted back to the killer in front of her.

Eddie stepped close, growing in size until he took up her whole world. He aimed his gun at her head.

“I should put a bullet in you right now,” he said, as if making small talk. “But see, here’s the thing, somebody cleaned out my accounts, and now I need a way to make some fast cash.”

He crouched back down in front of her, making her recoil. He ran the tip of the gun down her cheek, like a deranged caress. “Did you take my money, Annabelle?”

“N-no. I-I didn’t take your money.” She started to shake her head, but it made the room spin.

Where was Noah? The team? The ADA? Why wasn’t the building alarm screaming that someone had broken in? Why wasn’t someone rushing into the room to save her?

Her heart jumped to her throat, making her gag—were they all dead?

Dear God, please don’t let them be dead!

Eddie trailed the gun down her neck to the V of her plaid shirt. The barrel dug into the bone between her breasts. His attention seemed riveted to the mark it made in her flesh.

“You have any idea how much you’ll make me at auction?” His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Never sold an agoraphobe before,” he whispered as he leaned in closer, his breath hot and rancid against her cheek. Annabelle tried to back away from him, but the table leg stopped her. “They say you’ll crack if you go outside. One of my buyers wants to test that theory.” There was a smug smile in his voice. “He plans to take you outside, Annabelle, and fuck you underneath the wide-open sky.”

Her stomach spasmed, and there was no stopping it. Annabelle vomited all over the Demon Brother’s leader.

He jerked back and leaped to his feet before backhanding her across the cheek. The blow sent her under the desk, where she cowered, her stomach reeling and her head spinning wildly.

“Fucking bitch.” He stormed from the room, and she heard doors open and close.

It was the only chance she’d get to make a run for the panic room.

With every ounce of energy she possessed, she hauled herself to her feet, using the desk as support, and launched herself at the open doorway. Momentum took her as far as the bottom of the stairs, where she grasped the banister and held on tight.

A sob escaped her, and she bit her lip to remain silent as she dragged herself up the stairs. She felt like a rag doll, boneless and awkward as she took each step. Below her, she heard running water and cursing. Eddie was cleaning himself up. She had to hurry.

But knowing that and doing it were two different things. Each step was a mountain. Her breathing was labored, and the syrup in her head still clung to the corners and dark places. She missed a step and crashed to one knee, making her cry out in pain.

Annabelle snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late.

“What the hell?” Eddie bellowed.

She made it up another step. Almost at the top. So close. Her apartment door was right there, mere feet away.

“Bitch!” Eddie shouted.

She heard his footsteps as they hurried after her.

And then she heard something else. There was a popping sound, then a strangled grunt, and she turned to see Eddie, stiff as a board and shaking at the bottom of the stairs with wires trailing from his side.

Her gaze shot to the hallway behind him. Halfway out of the doorway to the Benson Security office, Evan lay on the floor, a Taser in his hand.

There was blood smeared on his shirt and the floor beneath him.

His eyes met hers. “Run,” he grunted.

She couldn’t. Evan was hurt. He needed her.