From down the hall, Chelsea shot back a warning. “Trouble’s coming to get you.”
My stomach lurched as heavy footsteps thumped toward the doorway. I jumped to my feet, waiting for Bradley Jamison or the hacked up body of Rex Brolie to lunge through the door, but there was no other way out of the suite, not even a ledge outside the windows that overlooked the parking lot two floors below. I could jump. My mind scrambled to review the instructions Uri had drilled into me on how to fall and minimize the damage as I pulled open the window to a gust of frigid January air. I’d be landing on pavement, but hopefully, I wouldn’t break a leg.
“What’s wrong?” Rebekah asked, and the scrunch of her face drove it home: no matter how hard I pretended, I wasn’t a carefree college student like her, and I would never be safe again.
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