Page 114 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
“Matt would never cheat on me.”
“That’s what they all say.” He eyeballed me in the mirror. “You look too young to get married. Are you even out of high school?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m 24.”
“Well, you look too young to be getting married. You should be out there, having fun,” he advised. “Trust me. After you get married, the kids come. And after they arrive, your whole world changes.”
“I guess.” Not wanting to admit that I couldn’t wait to have a baby. All my friends had important careers. I felt slightly ashamed that my only goal was to get married and start a family.
When Matt had asked me on our first date, I felt like I had won the lottery. As my friend Julie loved to tease me, I was punching above my weight when it came to Matt. I was cute, but Matt was very good-looking and he was a junior lawyer. Why he wanted to marry me was beyond me, but he did and I wasn’t going to ask why. We would be happy together. We would have the most perfect wedding and then we could start our life together.
The cab driver was speaking to me. I looked up and realized that he had pulled up in front of my loft. I dug through my bag to find some cash.
“You sure this is the right place?” he peered through the windshield around the area. It was the most up and coming neighbourhood. Still mostly industrial, there were a handful of condos and lofts in the area.
“Yeah, I own a loft here.”
Matt had convinced me to buy a loft here. He had promised me that he would help me with the renovations. He had been too busy and the vast majority had fallen on my shoulders. I had been hopeless dealing with the decisions and the contractors, and without telling Matt, I had simply hired a decorator to take over the project and see it to completion. To this day, Matt still believed that I had managed to convert the old building into the loft that it was today.
“You should be careful out here. They haven’t caught the throat slayer yet.”
I shuddered. “Who is the throat slayer?”
“Some serial killer creep who has been killing women. They say he chokes them to death.”
My heart tripped. “I’m sure he isn’t out here.”
The cabbie look
ed over his shoulder at me. “Just be careful kid.”
Chapter 2
I jerked awake. My entire body was tense with fear, but I had no idea why. I lifted my head, my ears straining. Something had woken me, I just didn’t know what. Another noise from downstairs sent my heart racing in my chest. I sat up looking for my phone. It wasn’t on the nightstand. With shaking limbs, I stood at my closed door and listened. Someone was definitely downstairs. Matt had already left for the day. I know because I had gotten up in an attempt to talk to him about the wedding invitations, but he had already been half out the door. I had returned to bed for another hour of sleep and now I was a sitting duck in my bedroom while some intruder rooted around downstairs.
My need to hide was almost overwhelming. Instead, I looked around for a weapon. My golf clubs. I gingerly pulled out my 7 iron. In bare feet, I eased my bedroom door open. I peered over the glass balcony that overlooked the main living area of the loft. I couldn’t see anyone. Had I imagined those noises? I could see my cell phone charging on the counter. Never again. I would never again leave my cell phone downstairs.
I slowly made my way towards the stairs, keeping my back pressed up against the wall. Everything was silent below. I crept down the open curved stairs. Nothing. My imagination was playing tricks on me. I let out a deep breath. I needed to get a grip. My therapist used to tell me that my fear was simply my false expectations appearing real. A catchy acronym to remind me that my fear of an intruder was irrational.
Heart still pounding in my throat, I walked towards the huge industrial sliding door wanting to make sure that Matt had set the alarm when he left. My foot connected with something solid and I barely caught my balance as I tripped over it.
Recovering, I turned around. A huge black canvas duffle bag. The toilet flushed behind me from the half bath on the main floor. I stood there frozen, while my mind raced. I needed to hide.
I don’t even remember moving. Suddenly, I was flattened against the wall in the front walk-in closet. I could barely control my harsh breathing. My heart raced to the point that I feared I would pass out. My vision blurred with tears.
I heard the sound of the taps running. The bathroom door opened. Footsteps. Then nothing. Holding my breath, I peered around the corner. An absolutely massive man was crouched on his haunches in front of his duffle bag. He had unzipped it and was rifling through it. Was that his kill kit?
My body was shaking uncontrollably. My stomach clenched rock hard. White knuckles gripped the club over my shoulder. I just needed to get one clean shot to his head. Then I could run. I crept up behind him. He was still bent over his bag. I saw a gun. With a mangled cry, I swung my club as hard as I could. My club connected with air.
Now I was flat on my back. My club was pressed to my neck. The monster was on top of me. Pinning me to the floor. I caught a glimpse of green eyes that were looking at me in surprise and then everything faded to black.
***
I opened my eyes. I was lying on the couch staring at my living room ceiling. The couch throw was pulled over my body. Images crashed through me. The intruder. A gun. Being flipped onto the floor.
With a cry, I half sat up. The intruder was sitting in the wingback chair across from me. He stared at me without expression. The pain that compressed my chest was so intense, so all consuming, I had to look to see if I had a knife sticking out of my chest. No blood. No knife. Just fear that was so real I could taste it.
The man who had broken into my loft looked like some sort of intense terminator robo-cop. All muscles and scariness. Would he torture me like my parents had been tortured or would he kill me quick? I didn’t care about the money. I already decided I would give him whatever he wanted, I just didn’t want to die.
