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That lick of flame in my blood has been kindled into an inferno by the time we reach her floor, and by the way Nora’s own teasing has grown darker and more insistent, she’s feeling her own little fire. The press of her body and the taste of her sweet lips are almost enough to make me lose myself completely, push her against the wall and drop to my knees in front of her right here in the damned hallway.

As soon as we’re in sight of her door, though, the warm, wanting woman in my arms goes utterly still.

When I look down at Nora, all her playful desire has disappeared. She’s staring at her apartment door, bone pale and slack-jawed with horror.

16

Nora

He found me.

Daniel.

As soon as I see the handwriting on the note stuck to my door, I know.

How many times did that same handwriting stare up at me from notes left on the kitchen counter or the nightstand or the bathroom mirror?

In the beginning, they’d been love notes. Little compliments or endearments, cards tucked into bouquets of flowers. Sweet, so sweet, more thoughtful than anything a guy had done for me before. Proof I was special to him, proof I was important.

Or so I’d thought.

By the time we’d moved in together, the notes he’d left me were decidedly less sweet. Reminders about a chore I hadn’t done or a promise that we’d ‘discuss’ something I’d said or done to disappoint him when he got home. Instructions to wear a particular piece of clothing or jewelry to an event, cutting commentary about how I needed to impress him this time.

I’d grown to dread seeing those notes, wondering what sin I’d committed and what his reaction to it would be.

Seeing one now, taped to the door of the small, safe place I’ve created for myself, shatters something in me.

“Nora?” Elias asks.

I’ve almost forgotten he’s still standing behind me, and for a few seconds I can’t find my voice to answer him.

“The note,” I finally croak. “It’s… it’s from…”

Without waiting for any further explanation, he snatches it from the door. As he reads, his jaw grows tight and his eyes darken ominously.

I’m sorry I missed you, Nora. I hope you’re doing well.

Innocent, innocuous. Threatening as hell. He knows where I am, left a note on my fucking door.

“Keys,” Elias says, holding out his open palm.

I hand them over without a word, completely numb.

Seeing my expression, he takes me gently by the shoulders. “Look at me, Nora.”

I do, and find all the hardness gone from his eyes, nothing but gentle reassurance as he reaches into my coat pocket and pulls out my phone, handing it to me.

“I’m going inside to make sure nobody’s there, alright?”

I nod.

“If anything’s wrong, if you hear me call out to you, I want you to run. Understand?”

Another nod.

“If that happens, I want you to have your phone ready to call for help.”

“Alright,” I whisper, hand clenched painfully around the phone.