Chapter 3

With the security guards gone, they didn’t even bother to maintain the last shred of their charade.

"You bitch! You actually called security on us? Played us like fools?" Billy snarled, punctuated by a vicious kick.

BANG! The heavy security door shuddered in its frame.

"Knock it off, Billy. Don't dent the door, this is going to be our apartment soon!" Nora hissed, her voice dripping with sickening greed.

I held my breath, pressing myself flat against the wood, trembling like a leaf.

"Bryan, have you figured out the damn code yet? I paid a fortune on the black market for that knockout drug!" Nora's voice sounded like a viper.

Knockout drug?! My eyes went wide with terror.

"Relax, Mom. Give me a second. I'm almost in," Bryan sneered.

"How can I relax? The minute that door opens, Billy and I will pin her down, and you jam that rag over her face! We can’t let her make a single sound and wake the neighbors!"

Nora let out a wicked scoff, her voice shaking with sick excitement.

"While she's out cold, you do your thing. Once you get her pregnant, we'll have her trapped. This luxury condo, the bank accounts—it all becomes ours!"

"By the time it's all said and done, the cops won't be able to do a damn thing about it!"

My mind went completely blank. My stomach turned, and I gagged on the acidic bile rising in my throat.

They weren't just here out of anger. They were here to utterly destroy me. They wanted to latch onto me like parasites, suck me dry, and hijack my entire life.

Uncontrollable shivers wracked my body. I couldn't let them win.

The electronic keypad chirped again.

"Zoey, I know you're standing right behind this door listening to me," Bryan's voice drifted through the door, dripping with sadistic confidence. "The code is your mom's birthday... isn't it?"

My heart seized. That was exactly what I had set it to.

No! Please, God, no!

He hit the final digit.

The sharp, metallic clack of the mechanism echoed in the silence. The LED ring on the smart lock glowed a sinister green.

The deadbolt was open.

"Hahahaha! It's open! Get in there! Grab the bitch!" Nora shrieked in a feverish hysteria.

I squeezed my eyes shut in pure despair. My limbs turned to ice as the last of my strength drained away.

It's over. It's all over.

Just as the door began to swing inward, a booming roar erupted from the far end of the hallway.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Bryan's hand froze mid-air.

Down the corridor, three armed police officers were advancing rapidly. Their hands were on their holsters, weapons half-drawn and aimed directly at the monsters outside my door.

"Back away from the door! Hands behind your heads, right now!" the lead officer barked.

Bryan dropped the drugged rag like it was on fire and shot his hands into the air.

The sadistic sneer he wore a fraction of a second ago instantly vanished, replaced by his fake mask of innocent, devoted concern.

"Officer! Please, don't shoot! This is a massive misunderstanding!" Bryan pleaded, his voice dripping with desperation. "I live here! My girlfriend, Zoey, is inside. We just had a stupid spat over nothing, and she's locking me out to prove a point!"

"It's true, officers! The hurricane killed our car, we were just seeking shelter!" Nora snapped into her "helpless old lady" routine, even managing to squeeze out a few crocodile tears.

Hiding behind the cracked door, my stomach churned with revulsion. It was sickening. These psychotics deserved Academy Awards.

"Is Ms. Zoey Carter here?" The lead officer ignored their performance and approached the door cautiously. "I'm the responding officer from dispatch. We need to verify your status. As agreed, the protocol word is—"

"Hurricane," I finished for him, my voice shaking.

Verified. I was safe.

Digging deep into my remaining adrenaline, I yanked the security door wide open.

"Officer, he is lying through his teeth!"

I pointed a trembling finger at Bryan, my voice hoarse with terror and rage. "They aren't here for shelter! They spent twenty minutes battering my door, screaming death threats, and they just tried to drug me!"

"Zoey, baby, how could you lie to the police like that?" Bryan looked at me with heartbroken eyes, as if he were the victim. "I know you're mad, but you can't waste police resources on a tantrum."

"Shut your mouth!"

I shoved my phone in front of the officer's face.

"Officer, I recorded this through the gap in the door!"

I hit play.

The camera angle was shaky, but the audio was crystal clear. It was ironclad, undeniable proof of their plan.

The officers’ expressions turned to stone. Their hands dropped back to their service weapons.

"Is this what you call a 'stupid spat'?" The lead officer glared at Bryan with pure disgust.

The color drained from Bryan's face. He stumbled back, frantically scrambling for an excuse. "Officer, wait... that's totally taken out of context! We have a dark sense of humor..."

"Save it. Every one of you! Turn around, get off this floor, and leave the building immediately." The officer's thumb rested firmly on his holster. "Or I’m arresting the lot of you right now for criminal trespassing and attempted assault!"

Outgunned and cornered, the game was over.

Bryan ground his teeth. The eyes that had feigned devotion seconds ago now burned with a chilling, murderous rage. He shot me one final, venomous glare.

"Fine... we're leaving."

He and his deranged family scurried into the elevator like rats.

Watching the floor indicator tick down, the tension finally snapped. My knees buckled.

"Ms. Carter, would you like us to station an officer in the lobby?" the lead cop asked.

"No... I'll be fine. Thank you for saving me," I wheezed, my clothes soaked with cold sweat.

The second the officers turned to leave, I slammed the door and threw every single deadbolt.

I leaned my head against the cold steel, eyes squeezed shut.

I survived. It’s finally over.

I forced myself up on shaky legs, wanting nothing more than a scalding shower to wash the nightmare away.

But as I passed the entryway...

My eyes were drawn back to that massive full-length mirror.

My heart stopped.

The bloody, battered reflection of "me" hadn't disappeared.