JODIE
Idon’t believe I’ve done it until I’m resting back against the closed door of the bathroom with his unlocked phone in my hand.
Excitement and fear duel within me.
I might be one step closer to getting out of here, but there’s still a way to go yet.
A cry comes from downstairs, turning my blood to ice as I race to get help.
They’ll be able to trace this number, and they’ll be able to find us.
I’m barely able to hit the numbers, my hands are shaking so badly. But I’ve got this far. I need to see this through. I need to get help before whatever that sick fuck’s plans play out.
I hit call on Toby’s number and lift the phone to my ear.
But nothing happens. It doesn’t ring. It doesn’t even go to voicemail.
Shock rocks through me as Jonas’s words come back to me from the day I walked to Mum’s house to find him waiting for me.
“He’s using you, Jodie. As soon as he’s got what he wants, he’ll drop you as fast as he found you.”
No. I refuse to believe that.
He’s out there looking for me. He is. They all are.
Dialling the other number I remember without even having to think about it, I hope and fucking pray that this one connects and that she’s able to get help.
“Jodie?” Bri’s panicked voice rings through the line.
“It’s me.”
“Holy shit, Jojo. Where are you? What’s going on? What—”
“Shut the fuck up, Bri, and listen to me. You need to get one of the guys to trace this number. It’ll lead you to me.”
“Oh my God, okay. I’m with Nico. He’s ringing Theo.”
“Where’s Toby?”
“Uh…”
“Brianna, is he okay?”
I don’t get to hear her response because there’s another loud scream from downstairs before footsteps begin thundering closer to me.
“Oh shit. Don’t hang up,” I demand before shoving the phone in my bra and rushing toward the basin to wash my hands.
“Jodie?” Jonas booms, making my heart catapult into my throat.
My hands shake as I try to scrub off the evidence of what I’ve done, but I fear it’s going to be too late in about thirty seconds.
His footsteps get louder, but I can barely hear them over the blood racing past my ears.
The door crashes back against the wall and I squeal in fright, despite knowing it was coming.
“What did you do?” he booms, surging toward me and grabbing me by the hair.
“Get off me.” I reach for the knife that’s still in my back pocket. Pain sears down my neck as he drags me forward and out of the bathroom.