He took position behind her, prodding her when he seemed to consider her pace too slow. Her nerves were completely on edge. She swore she’d shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment. Once in the elevator alone with him, she pushed the basement button and stood still, watching him through the reflection of the mirrored walls.
Was it stupid to notice his sex appeal? The man was a sociopath, probably some kind of serial killer. But his shoulders were broad, and she could tell his entire body was hard judging by what she saw through his unzipped jacket. He wore all black with gun holsters hidden under his lapels. His hair was black and roughly pushed back off his face. His lips…
He noticed her staring, and she immediately diverted her attention, her heart jolting.
“Eyes forward.”
She bit her bottom lip. Fortunately, the doors opened on the basement level, and she pushed her cleaning cart off the elevator. She continued on to the locker room. At this hour, there weren’t too many on shift, just some floaters.
When she got to her locker, she undid her lock and opened the door. He pushed her aside, immediately rummaging through her purse. He pulled out her wallet, dropping everything not of interest to him.
“Cleo Bennet,” he read.
“I already told you that. I wasn’t lying.”
He glared at her and continued rifling through her personal stuff.
“What are these for?” The killer held out a bottle of pills, giving it a shake, and she felt her entire face turn hot and red. She felt nauseous. “They’re diet pills,” she whispered. She didn’t need to be told they didn’t work. She’d tried everything, and those were her last resort next to getting her stomach stapled.
The world seemed to stop spinning. He looked her up and down, inch by fat inch, then tossed the pills over his shoulder.
“Hey,” she said.
He ignored her, and she didn’t push her luck. This man had just sliced up that man upstairs and he could do the same to her.
“Who do you live with?” He examined her driver’s license. It was expired. She just didn’t have any free time to get things done. Rent was expensive, so she took every extra shift she could, like tonight.
“Nobody.”
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head. The threat in his voice made her eyes start to water again. “I swear. I don’t even have a pet because of my allergies. It’s just me and my … fish.”
He cocked his head.
It was the dumbest thing, but she worried about who’d feed Fred once she was dead. No one would check on Cleo, no one would care. A wave of sadness washed over her as the reality of her situation really hit home. Not a single person would remember her.
“I just want to go home.” Tears traced down her cheek.
“Who’ll notice you’ve gone missing?”
“I don’t want to go missing,” she said.
“Answer the question.”
More tears fell. She wasn’t sure if she was more sorry for herself or embarrassed. If he knew the truth, he’d have no reason to keep her alive.
“Lots of people,” she managed to squeak out.
When he cocked an eyebrow, she tried her best to keep herself in check. Did he know she was lying?
“Who? Names.”
“I-I don’t know…” She busied herself collecting the contents of her purse from the floor before standing up again.
“We’re done here.” He spun her around. “Back to the elevator. Hit P3.”
Oh God, this was it. He was taking her to a second location, the number one thing to avoid in the emergency handbook for women. Would he rape her? Chop her up? Or slit her throat like that poor man upstairs?