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CHAPTER FOUR

Evangeline

The elevator doors slide open, revealing a hallway bathed in dim recessed lighting so faint it barely deserves the name. I check the message Knight sent me again.

Third floor. Door at the end.

Two potted plants flank the only door. It has to be Knight's apartment.

I take a steadying breath, and walk down the hallway. There’s a security pad to the right. I look at the message again, then input the code he sent. The red light turns green. A click follows, then the lock disengages, and the door swings open slightly.

I hesitate.

Three weeks of late-night messages have led to this moment.

Nervous butterflies take off in my stomach.

What if meeting in person changes things? What if ? —

I shake my head, pushing the door open wider. Darkness swallows me whole. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows spill moonlight through the cracks in the blinds, but the small streaks of light do nothing to cut through the heavy dark. I clutch my laptop closer.

"Knight?" My voice wavers in the silence.

Nothing.

A shiver snakes its way down my spine, my mind summoning all sorts of monsters lurking in the shadows. I step forward cautiously, heartbeat loud in my ears. My foot catches on something, sending me forward a stumbling step. I shuffle around, then freeze.

Did I hear someone moving?

Don’t be ridiculous.

“Knight?”

He should be here. He said he’d be here. Maybe he’s in his office, headphones on, lost in code like he always says he gets. The thought steadies me into taking another step deeper into the room … then another, moving farther away from the door.

Something begins to take shape in the shadows ahead—a hallway or doorway? Maybe it’s his office. Just a few more steps and?—

Cold metal presses against the back of my head.

Every muscle in my body locks up. My thoughts scatter, unable to process what's happening.

What is ? —

"Don't move." A male voice. Deep and hard.

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.

"Turn around." A pause. " Slowly ."

My breath is coming too fast, fear locking my throat. My body fights the command.

“Turn. Around.”

I force myself to do as he says, turning around a fraction of an inch at a time. Something drags through my hair as I move. Something my mind shies away from naming.

A figure looms in the darkness. Tall. Broad shoulders. Black t-shirt. But it's what's in his hand that makes the room spin sideways.

A gun.

A gun pointed at my head.

My stomach free-falls into nothingness.

The world distorts, bending around the horror of it.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

His gaze drops to my laptop. "Put it down."

I can't make my fingers work. Can’t breathe. The laptop's the only real thing in this nightmare. The only thread tying me to reality.

He steps closer, the air around him shifting into something that promises violence. "Down. Now ."

The laptop slips from my fingers. The crack as it hits the floor makes me flinch. My ears are ringing. Everything feels distant, surreal.

"That way." He gestures with the gun toward the shadows. "Move."

I stumble forward, legs moving on instinct, my mind detached from my body. My focus shrinks to the weapon pressed between my shoulder blades. The way it never wavers.

“Stop.”

I freeze. He leans past me, and a door opens, flooding my vision with harsh fluorescent light. The brightness burns my eyes, making them tear up. The gun drives me forward again.

White tile swims into focus. Chrome fixtures. A bathroom bigger than my bedroom.

"Face the wall. Hands behind your head."

"Please." My voice sounds strange. Far away. "I can explain?—"

" Now. "

I turn, my forehead almost touching the tile, the cold radiating through me. My hands shake as I lift them, fingers interlacing at the back of my head.

The position is humiliating. Exposing.

Oh god. This is really happening.

"Knees."

The command doesn't register at first. Then the gun presses between my shoulder blades.

"On your knees. Now."

My legs buckle. I hit the floor hard, pain jolting up through my knees. Cold seeps through my jeans as I stare at the wall, trying not to throw up. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go.

“This isn’t …” My breath stutters. "Knight invited me here."

There’s no response.

"He's been helping me look for my brother. We've been messaging for weeks. Please, I need to find him. Something must have happened —"

"Shut up."

Fabric rustles behind me. The gun disappears. Before I can process what that means, his hand clamps down on my wrists, yanking them down from my head and twisting them until they’re behind my back. Something cold snaps around my right wrist. Panic claws its way up my throat.

"Please." My voice breaks. "Just let me show you the messages. Let me explain."

He grabs my left hand. Another click.

"Get up."

I struggle to my feet but everything's wrong. My arms are trapped behind me. Metal bites into my wrists when I try to pull them apart.

Handcuffs?

He put me in handcuffs.

He shoves me toward the far wall. "Sit. Back against the radiator."

I sink down awkwardly, unable to use my hands for balance. He bends, pushing me backward with the gun against my shoulder, until my back hits the radiator. Then he leans behind me. There’s another click. When I try to pull away from the wall, I can't. He's hooked the handcuffs to the radiator somehow.

"The access codes." His voice is cold, clipped. "How did you get them?"

"Knight sent them. Tonight." I can barely hear myself talking above the hammering of my heart. "He said he found something about Michael's case. Please, just check my phone."

He turns his back on me and walks to the door. My heart slams against my ribs as his hand finds the light switch.

He’s leaving. No!

"Wait!" My voice bounces off the tile walls, shrill and desperate. "Please don't?—"

Darkness crashes down. The door closes with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the silence. I'm alone, unable to move, barely able to make out the window's faint outline through my tears.

I gasp. The air is too thin. My wrists burn where the cuffs dig deep.

This isn’t real. Knight was supposed to be here. Knight was supposed to have answers.

Instead I'm trapped in a dark bathroom, hands bound behind me, while a stranger with a gun is somewhere on the other side of that door.

The darkness feels like it's crushing me. Like it's stealing the air from my lungs. Tears spill down my face as reality sinks in.

Where's Knight? What has happened to him? Did I walk into a crime scene?

Oh god, has Knight been murdered?

My ears strain, waiting. Dreading .

What happens when that door opens again?