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My house is on five acres, surrounded by a thick brush of woods on three sides. I know my distant neighbors are there, but I never see the lights from their houses.

The barn has night lights so the kenneled dogs aren’t left in the dark, but that’s more of a soft glow. Not a flicker of light.

I head over to the window to look outside, my gaze going to the barn first. But it looks just as it always does.

Next, I grab my phone and pull up the app that shows me the interior of the barn. Inside, there are twenty kennels, twelve of them occupied, and all of them quiet.

Glancing at the window again, I see another blink. This time it lasts longer, bobbing a little as it moves.

A flashlight, maybe?

Crap.

My teeth clench together.

This wouldn’t be the first time someone has dumped a dog here, for some reason unwilling to bring them by during the day. It doesn’t make sense—I never turn a dog away, regardless of the reason why they’re here. But some people feel guilty. Or maybe, they just don’t care.

A stab of pain shoots through my jaw.

To just dump a dog here…

And what if they don’t even put the dog in one of the fenced-in areas? The barn is locked, so they can’t get in there. This poor, confused dog could end up wandering around the property, reaching the road, getting hit by a car…

Crap.

“Sorry, guys,” I tell Elmore and Toby as I pull on a sweatshirt over my sleep pants and T-shirt. “Bedtime will have to wait for a few minutes. I need to make sure there’s not a friend out there who needs our help.”

Yes. I hold full conversations with my dogs. Weird or not, I’m not stopping.

Hurrying downstairs, I make a beeline for the back door.

As I shove my moccasins on, I snag the little flashlight I keep on the table beside it.

Then I head outside, shivering a little in the cool night air.

Though it’s early May and the days are getting warmer, the nights still drop into the forties and fifties.

Fortunately, it feels closer to fifty tonight, so I’m not too uncomfortable in what I’m wearing.

Still, I hope I can find this dog quickly. Not just because of the cool temperature, but because it’ll take me at least an hour to get him settled into one of the empty kennels. And six AM will come quickly, especially when I don’t get to bed until well after midnight.

Flashlight in hand, I start a slow circuit of the fenced in area of the property.

I pay careful attention to the small trees and shelters where a frightened dog could be hiding.

But I get through all four of the play spaces without finding anything besides some forgotten toys and a stainless steel bowl that nearly gives me a heart attack when I trip over it.

Clicking my tongue, I circle the barn, aiming my flashlight at all the little nooks and crevices. Still nothing.

Crap.

Then I hear a soft rustling sound on the other side of the barn, near the massive double doors that I always keep locked.

Could they be trying to tie up the dog there?

If I find the owner before they take off, it’s going to be really hard not to give them a piece of my mind. But logic tells me it’s better to play the pacifist—accept the dog and just let them go without argument.

As I move towards the front of the barn, a tiny chill hits the back of my neck.

But it’s not from the cold. It’s a strange sort of foreboding.

A voice in my head orders, Go back inside. Call for backup. Call Gage. He’ll come if you ask.

But we don’t have that kind of relationship. Not the kind that involves calling him when he’s probably in bed. Or he could be with a woman?—

Another rustle, louder this time.

I reach for my phone, but of course, it’s back in the house. On my nightstand. Just where I left it.

No. It’s fine.

I’m just letting the dark get to me.

The sound could be something as innocent as a raccoon or possum.

Or a dog. Hurt. Scared. In need of help.

That’s what gets me moving faster.

But when I get to the barn doors, there’s nothing in front of them.

Huh?

I swing around in a circle, the light of my flashlight following.

Still nothing.

An icy tendril slinks down my back.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself. “I’m going back in. Calling Gage. Who cares if it’s late?”

I take a few steps back towards the house.

And then.

Something slams into me.

Something heavy.

I fall to my knees with a painful thud.

My lungs seize.

Iron arms wrap around me, squeezing.

Hot breath hits my cheek. It’s sour. Garlicky. Smelling slightly of whiskey.

Fear explodes in my chest.

The person—it has to be a man, as strong as he is—flips me over, so I’m flat on my back.

All I can see is darkness and twin spots of white.

He’s wearing a mask.

All that’s visible are his eyes.

And that’s very, very bad.

One meaty hand grabs my wrist, trying to pin it above my head.

NO!

But he’s so heavy. So big.

Looming over me like this, his weight holding me captive, I don’t know how I can get away.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

I thought I knew what fear was. But this?—

“Leave me alone,” I wheeze. “Just go. There’s nothing here for you.”

His teeth flash amid the expanse of black. “But you’re what I’m here for.”

Oh, no. No no no no no.

I have to do something .

But what?

Then I remember.

The flashlight in my hand.

Before I can second guess myself, I snap my hand out, smashing the metal cylinder into his face.

It hits something soft.

He grunts in pain.

I’ve never felt more satisfied about hurting someone until now.

There’s a moment when his grip on my wrist falters.

When he rears back, clapping a hand over his eye.

That’s when I wriggle out from under him.

And I run.

First towards the house; the lights in the windows a beacon of safety.

But he’s right behind me.

Wait. Not behind me. His long strides are catching up to my smaller ones. He’s coming around to my side.

Oh, no.

He’s herding me. Blocking me from the house.

Veering left, I look into the thick swathe of trees ahead of me.

I don’t want to go into them. Not like this.

But I’m not sure I have another choice.

My breath comes in rough gasps. My pulse thunders in my head, echoing with every step.

The trees grow closer, lit by a sliver of moon overhead.

If I can make it there, I can hide.

“You won’t get away,” the man snarls. I can tell he’s only feet behind me.

“Just give up,” he adds in a darkly malicious tone. “I’ll make it easier on you if you do.”

But nothing in my life has been easy.

I’ve never given up. And I’m not starting now.