Trouble

“Not at all.”

My shoulders tense, and I step back, picking up my towel and wiping my arms. “You’re not really injured are you?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” It’s a smooth observation, a smile in his voice, almost like he’s leading me with his words.

Picking up my bag, I take another step away from the table. “Why are you asking about my friends?”

“I’m wondering how you came to know my wife, Miss Winthrop. I’m wondering how you got the idea in your head you have any say in what she does with our son.”

My heart leaps to my throat, and I bolt for the door, throwing my bag over my shoulder as I run.

Ozzy is off the table like a jaguar, nearly catching me. The whisper of his hand just missing my arm causes me to shriek, and I grab the doorknob, jerking it open. It’s just enough delay for him to grab the back of my scrubs.

“No!” I scream, falling on my stomach in the hallway.

Clawing the floor, I manage to get my feet under me and pull myself up before he can land on top of me. Running as hard as I can to the door, I fling everything I pass in the way behind me—a chair, a potted tree, the computer screen off the receptionist’s desk. It lands with a massive crash.

If I’m lucky, there’s a security camera. Otherwise, whoever owns this office is going to be confused when they come into work tomorrow. Slamming the doors of the suite, I see his shadow rising up in the frosted glass, and I drag a long, metal planter in front of it.

He hits it with a slam, and I run hard to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly, looking back over my shoulder, crying out as I pant for breath.

He’s almost through the door, and I give up, scanning all over the place for the stairs. “Where are they?”

My eyes land on the sign for the restrooms. Deciding I don’t have time to wait, I run full-s

peed into what turns out to be an enormous stone facility.

A powder area with sinks and a full-length mirror divides the front from the 12 stalls in the back. It’s empty and dark, and I run to the middle stall, pushing open a door and quickly sliding the lock before crawling, military-style on my belly under the dividers to the very last one.

I lock that door as well and step carefully onto the toilet seat. I don’t know if he saw me come in, and I clutch my hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing, straining my ears for any sound of footsteps.

Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m winded, and every snort, every heavy exhale feels magnified a thousand times in this stone enclosure.

“Joselyn…” Ozzy sing-songs my name like it’s a horror film, and more tears coat my face. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Joselyn. I just want to talk.”

He slaps the doors open, one by one, and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying to God and the saints, and the Fireside ladies to help me.

“Have you ever watched a house cat play with a mouse?” Slam! He pushes another door open, slowly moving down the row. “House cat’s not hungry. He doesn’t want to deal with all that fur and blood and guts…” Slam! Another door… “He plays with it until it stops fighting back. Then he gives it a warning…” Slam! He’s one door away from… “Sometimes the warning is a little too rough, and the mouse dies. Either way, the mouse gets the message. Tell me, Joselyn, are you getting the message?”

Clink… He’s at the door I locked, and my eyes squeeze shut. “Did you really think a flimsy little lock would keep me out?”

At the first Boom! of his boot striking particleboard, I step down from the toilet, sliding the lock slowly open.

Another Boom! and my lips squeeze shut against a scream. As soon as he breaks through that wrong door, I plan to run as hard as I can for the exit.

It’s my only hope of escaping.

It’s got to work.

My fingers grip the handle for his last kick when Woosh!

The toilet behind me automatically flushes.

I jerk the door open and our eyes meet. His glitter with satisfaction, but I swing my bag of massage oils, warming saucer, and rocks with all my might, aiming for his head as I run directly at him.

He’s taken aback that I’m running at him, and the bag strikes his temple, throwing him to the ground. On the way down, he grabs my leg, and I go down, too, striking my cheek against the stall divider.

Light explodes behind my eyes, and I roll onto my back with a moan.