He nodded. He might just need it.
***
“Hello, Reagan.”
Reagan turned at the greeting. A man stepped forward, a baseball cap low on his head. He wore a well-pressed, clean, checked shirt that was buttoned right up to his chin and dark slacks. His tidy clothes seemed out of place with the scruffy baseball cap. He strode forward, his eyes darting back and forth nervously. A small tingle ran down her spine in warning. The sun was
starting to sink, and the street was quiet. She glanced over at the door to the apartment building, judging the distance.
“Don’t even think about running.” He stared at her, his gaze unsettling in its complete and utter focus.
“Who are you?” she demanded, thrusting her shoulders back. She wouldn’t show him she was scared. “What do you want?”
“I’m your secret admirer.” He laughed, obviously pleased with himself, although she had no idea why.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play coy. ‘A dishonest woman contemneth shame: but an honest woman will reverence her husband’.”
Her fear grew. Who was he? Her secret admirer? “You left the notes? The flowers?”
“Yes, of course. Should a man not send his future wife flowers?”
“Wife?” She screeched.
He glanced around, his breath coming in fast pants. “We must go inside.”
“No way.” Did he think she was an idiot?
“You will obey me. ‘Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord’.”
“You’re fucking crazy. Did Maddy put you up to this?” Had the other woman paid this guy to terrorize her?
“Who?” He looked genuinely confused, and her trepidation grew.
“I’m calling the police.” She reached into her handbag as he leapt forward and grabbed her wrist. He turned her, so her back was to his front. She’d underestimated him. He might be slightly built, but his grasp was strong, and the knife he now pressed against her side told her he was deadly serious.
“We’re going inside.”
“Okay.”
He prodded her into the apartment building, the knife pressed against her side. It pricked at her a couple of times, and she winced. She’d left her luggage outside, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. Maybe someone would see the suitcase and investigate.
More likely they’d just steal her stuff.
She thought about entering the wrong pin into the key pad and setting off the alarm, but he pressed his knife against her side. She cried out in pain.
“Hurry up. And don’t even think about disobeying me, unless you want to add to your punishment.”
Punished? Holy fuck, he had a few screws missing.
But she entered the correct pin. No sense in antagonizing him. Not yet, anyway.
They stepped inside, and he shut the door, throwing the deadbolt across. “Where’s your bedroom?”
Her bedroom? Holy shit. Panic threatened to overcome her, her breath came in sharp pants.
Focus, Reagan.