Page 71 of Wrecked (Axle Alley Vipers)

A scream tore from her throat as indescribable fear spiked through her veins, kicking her into action. Spinning around, she took off at a sprint, back toward the garage. She grabbed the door handle and yanked, but it didn’t budge. She’d locked herself out. She felt her pockets, but she didn’t have her keys. Oh shit. She risked a glance over her shoulder.

He’d slowed but was still coming.

She dove for the outside stairs and ran up them two at a time. Then she remembered she’d left the spare key in Cole’s kitchen the other night. Please let it be there. Fighting back a helpless sob, she kicked the plant aside and nearly collapsed with relief when she saw he’d put it back.

The guy was at the base of the stairs, and he paused, looking up at her.

She snatched up the key with a shaking hand. “What do you want? God, p-please don’t hurt me.” She couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a ski mask. But she knew he was enjoying her fear.

He took the first step, and she jammed the key in the lock. Her phone, still clutched in her hand, slipped from her sweaty fingers and clattered to the ground. That’s when he stopped playing and pounded up after her.

Piper lunged inside and slammed the door shut. The deadbolt did its thing, and she latched the security chain. The handle turned, the door jiggling, then stopped. She struggled to catch her breath. Never in her life had she been this terrified. If this guy really wanted in, it would be as easy as one well-placed kick.

Her chest felt tight, like she’d just run a marathon. She yanked open the kitchen drawers and pulled out a knife, the biggest one she could find. Edging up to the window, she peered out.

A ski mask–covered face came forward from the shadows and pressed against the glass. She screamed and dove to the kitchen floor.

Her phone was on the ground outside. No one knew she was in trouble, and it had become obvious that Cole wasn’t coming home anytime soon.

She was going to die in his apartment.

Crawling to the end of the cabinets, she scrambled back and faced the door, clutching the knife in both hands.

...

Cole felt his pockets. Shit. “Let me get my phone. I left it in the car.”

Deke waited while he unlocked the door. His phone sat on the passenger seat, light flashing, alerting him to either a missed call or message.

He checked the screen.

Piper.

Thank God. Maybe she hadn’t written him off completely. Punching in the code he held it to his ear.

It was quiet for a few seconds, and he thought for a moment she’d decided against leaving him a message, until he heard a loud sound, like something smashing. Like smashing glass? There was a pause, rustling, then, “Ohgodohgodohgod.” Piper’s panicked chant echoed down the line with a lot of static like the phone was rubbing against something.

Then she screamed, high and full of fear.

Cole stumbled forward, bracing himself against the car. He’d gotten to her. The fucker had gotten to her.

“What do you want? God, p-please don’t hurt me.” Her voice was clear but distorted with terror.

“Fuck. No.”

Deke was at his side in an instant, and he forced himself to hold it together long enough to tell him what was going on. They jumped in the car, and Deke drove while Cole called 911.

Jesus. He’d left her there all on her own. She’d had a prowler a few nights ago, and he’d been so wrapped up in himself, in his own shit, he’d left her unprotected. “Fuck.” He pounded the dashboard.

If anything happened to her…

She had to be all right. She had to be. He couldn’t lose her as well.

Not Piper.

They arrived at Axle Alley before the police, and Cole was out of the car before it fully came to a stop. He used his key and raced inside, Deke right behind him. Cole went straight to her room. Everything looked the same. The same as when he’d left that morning. Fuck, he could still smell her strawberry scent.

Deke walked in behind him, breathing ragged. “Window’s smashed. There’s blood. Jesus, Cole, there’s blood.”