Glancing from my phone to his porch, I blow out a breath. I can’t wait for the phone to charge. The sophomore girl is still inside. He could be trapping her right now. If I leave to get help, will it be too late for her? Maybe I can knock on the doors of other people on the block. But how long will it take?
There’s one thing I know for certain: I won’t stand by and let Mr. Coleman harm any other girls like he hurt me. I’ve seen the folder. Hell, I lived the folder.
I have to do something.
Stuffing the file back in my purse, I take the bag and grab the all-in-one tool from the glove box Maisy insisted I have. It’s for car accidents, but it could do damage as a weapon in an emergency. Climbing out of the car, I shove it in my coat pocket as I hurry to the closest house across from Mr. Coleman’s. I knock on the door, but there’s no answer. I knock again, shifting restlessly on my feet.
“Come on. Damn it. Why doesn’t anyone answer their doors anymore?”
I run to the next house over, trying there. No one answers. This is wasting time.
Shaking out my hands, I head for Mr. Coleman’s house. I keep low as I sneak around, peeking in windows carefully. Inside, it’s rundown with cracks in the plastered walls. My breath catches at the sight of the dual monitor computer surrounded by an array of old takeout containers. I still don’t see anyone, so I continue around the side of the house. Voices from inside drift out through the old, grimy windows.
“…sure you have to go right away? I insist, stay for a quick cup of cocoa,” Mr. Coleman says. “It’ll warm you up from the chill.”
Only part of their conversation is audible as I strain my ears, crouched beneath a window.
“…supposed to get back, but…”
“Don’t be silly,” he says, closer to the window. I hold my breath. “There’s no rush, right?” There’s a slight pause, then, “That’s the holiday spirit. Never too much cocoa. I’ll put on some music, too.”
She must have agreed. I shift around, but in the fading light I misjudge the distance between my hip and the recycling cans near the window, accidentally knocking into one.
“Crap, crap, crap,” I hiss, steadying them before they make too much noise. Hopefully Mr. Coleman didn’t hear that. Or if he did, writes it off as a wild animal.
Holiday music starts playing. I try to peek in another window to see if I can gesture to the girl to warn her off, but it’s too dark inside to see anything. Why aren’t any of the lights on?
I skirt around to the back door to see if I can hear better. Before I reach the handle, a hand covers my mouth as I’m grabbed.
“Mmph!”
Lips press against my ear, making my skin crawl when I hear Mr. Coleman’s husky voice. “You came, princess. I thought that was your little blue car in my mirror. Following me, sneaking around out here playing naughty games? Well, if you insist. I’ll have to punish you later.”
White-hot panic rushes up my spine. I kick and thrash, but he’s strong. I try to scream, but his hand muffles it.
When did he come outside? Oh god, this can’t be happening!
“Ah, ah. You came to me. I’m your knight, princess. Stop fighting it.” His demeanor has changed from earlier, bordering on manic. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long—every day in class. Having you chase me at the market was so thrilling. I knew you must have realized it and couldn’t stay away any longer.” He presses his nose into my hair as I struggle. “But you’re making this hard for me by misbehaving.”
I’m your knight, princess.
No.
No fucking way.
He’s spouting words he’s typed to me a hundred times over. A sickening sensation travels through my body.
This is worse than every nightmare I’ve ever had come to life.
Mr. Coleman keeps my arms pinned tight. I’m too short to crack my skull back into his. I try to bite him, to yell, but he squeezes my face hard enough to hurt.
Everything in my body screams in protest at his harsh grip. I feel violated all over again, worse this time with his hands all over me. His breath is hot on the back of my neck as he grunts against my frantic flailing.
No!
Escaping his hold is impossible, but I manage to worm my fingers into my coat pocket. They slip on the smooth handle of the all-in-one tool. My chest caves with a desperate, smothered cry.
Please, please.
When I have it, I release a wild sound, swinging as hard as I can with limited motion. Mr. Coleman grunts as I catch him in the leg with the hard tip meant for breaking glass. But it doesn’t work for him to release me like I wanted. I didn’t strike hard enough.
He wrenches the tool from my grasp and throws it aside in the dead grass. That was my only weapon against him!
“Mmph! Mmmph!” My protests come out as muffled grunts.
His voice is a low growl in my ear as he lifts me from the ground. “You’ll behave, pet. I don’t want to punish you too harshly, but I will.”
Terror spears through my body as he crushes me against the back door, covering my back to pin me there. My nostrils flare with each panicked, labored breath.
He has me inside before I can fight him off. I try to scream again, to warn the sophomore girl, but with his hand over my mouth and holiday music playing, I go unheard.
My pulse races as he shoves me through another door, then down a short flight of steps into a basement off the kitchen. I squirm to reach for something I can use against him. Anything to stun him long enough to escape.
My feet jar as he drops me back to the ground, sending me stumbling from the jolt. A second later, he shoves me against a workbench with shelves of cubby holes. My bag drops to the ground as I try to break his hold. In the struggle, my head knocks into a shelf, spreading a jarring pain in my skull and making my vision swim. Everything goes black around the edges, a strange pulse in my head leaving me woozy.
He watches me with calculating, narrowed eyes, then steps back. Without his disgusting hands holding me up, the dizziness gets worse and I slump against the table, then collapse to the floor. I try to form words with my heavy tongue, but everything goes black.
Open your eyes! Get up!
Cracking my eyes open takes effort. I think I try it multiple times as I sit on the dusty floor because distorted flashes of Mr. Coleman slip through the throbbing in my head. Watching me. Getting a tool and extension cords. His back to me as he climbs the stairs.
Now! Escape now!
When I come to, I’m alone. I don’t know how much time it’s been. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? I scrub a hand over my face and climb to my feet. My head still hurts, but the dizziness that made me black out has passed.
It can’t be long if my head is still tender. I wince, carefully prodding at my skull.
The room grows dimmer as the last of the daylight outside fades into dusk. No lights are on, swallowing me in shadows and darkness.
My chest heaves as my breathing speeds back up. I race up the steps, but the door is locked. The music is turned down lower. I smack my palm against the door.
“Help! Hey! Help me! Let me out!” As I scream, I jiggle the doorknob. No matter how hard I yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge. My palm stings from banging so hard.
Mr. Coleman’s muted voice travels through the door, sounding far away. I pause to press my ear to the door. “…no problem. Tell your parents they can borrow from me anytime. Goodnight.”