Her stomach twisted, and goose bumps broke out on her skin as fear prickled her body. She could feel it then. Eyes were watching her, following her every movement. She didn’t see anyone, but she knew they were there.
Taking a deep breath, Devon tried to rationalize what was happening. She had hyperventilated before over something like this. Perhaps she was just imagining what was ahead and behind her. Her mind was playing tricks on her. But she had been walking an interminable amount of time, and it didn’t look like she was any closer to the L. Wasn’t she supposed to take a left up ahead? She definitely hadn’t come upon a cross street yet.
Devon broke into a jog, hoping to put as much distance between her and the strange city buildings as possible. The faster she went, the farther the buildings stretched. Her mind couldn’t process it. How was it possible that she wasn’t even moving when her breathing was ragged from running?
Finally, she saw her turn up ahead. She took off toward it, ignoring the nagging feeling that someone was following her. Devon cut the sharp corner and saw the L station up ahead in the distance. A stitch was forming in her side under her ribs, and she pushed her fingers up into it to try to dull the pain. She wasn’t a runner and never had been. Devon wondered why her pursuer didn’t just run her down. She wasn’t very fast, her speed was already slowing considerably, and soon, she would have to stop. Adrenaline was the only thing fueling her on.
But the person stayed a distance away, her pursuer’s eyes locked on Devon.
She reached the stairs in a hurry and scrambled up them, wanting to put as much distance between her and the person after her as possible. She swiped her card, pushed through the metal turnstile, and stepped out onto the platform. She flew up the second set of stairs and prayed that a train was waiting for her.
The footsteps on the stairs below her told Devon that the person was fast approaching. She knew the train schedule, and it would likely be another couple minutes before it arrived this late at night. She paced back and forth in front of the railway, debating her options.
If someone was coming after her, she didn’t have the luxury of time to wait out a train. She needed to act now. Biting down on her lip, she decided to make a move. She sprinted down the platform to the opposite end where the elevator stood. Her finger repeatedly mashed the down button. She could hear the rhythmic rise of the machine as it took its time approaching the top floor. Devon cursed its slowness. Even if she made it inside before the person reached her, her pursuer might be able to get to the bottom floor before the elevator.
Her head whipped around and saw that the person had made it up the flight of stairs. Devon didn’t have another choice. She bolted into the elevator as soon as it opened and slammed her hand down on the button to close the door.
Bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, she watched the doors slide shut just as her tracker realized where she had gone. She didn’t get to see what his move was. Was he rushing down the stairs now? Would he beat her there? She didn’t know. She just didn’t know.
As the elevator slid down the shoot, Devon jumped up and down, wanting it to move faster, but of course, it took its sweet time. It was old equipment, and it wasn’t likely to listen to her pleas for help. Finally, it reached the bottom floor, and the doors dinged open. Devon didn’t think twice. Vaulting through the doors, she hoped that if the person had already made it to the bottom floor, he wouldn’t be expecting her to run straight at him.
Her burst of speed was unwarranted because her body collided with a soft white bed that came out of nowhere. She face-planted into the mattress, sending her legs flying behind her. Devon shouted out in surprise, trying to right herself.
As she did, she felt a hand grasp her arm and hold her in place. She kicked out and smashed into something solid. She heard the person grunt, but he never loosened his grip on her arm. Her face was shoved into the mattress, muffling her cries and tears. She wasn’t sure if she could breathe properly, but the person didn’t seem to care as he held her in place. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to judge what the person would do to her.
“You thought you were safe,” the voice said, “but you’ll never be safe.”
TEARS WERE STREAMING down Devon’s face even before she woke up. She heard the television, and the bright light from the screen hit against her closed eyelids. She had the good sense to know that she wasn’t alone. Someone else was in the living room where she had fallen asleep after she had returned from work earlier that night. It was most likely Garrett since he was always up this late with her. She couldn’t face him like this.
A shuddering sob raked through her body. She wished that she had been able to hold it in, but it burst out of her unbidden.
She felt his eyes on her like she was back in her dream. While watching her, he was likely worried as he wondered why she was weeping in the middle of the living room when she had been fast asleep only a few minutes earlier.
Devon had thought the nightmares were gone. She had thought the dreams were in the past and that she had moved on. It had been weeks since she’d had one, and then this…
It was so close to reality. It was like her nightmares were getting closer and closer to the truth. The dream had felt so real. She remembered the feeling of exhaustion, the pride in a job well done, and wondering where Brennan was. But Brennan had walked her home earlier tonight, just like he had every night since she had started working there, since her mental breakdown on the street.
The words rang in her ears over and over again. “You thought you were safe, but you’ll never be safe.”
They were painful words that breached her subconscious on a regular basis. Who was she to think that she was safe? How could she believe that everything she had run from would just be back to normal when she returned?
Sitting up, Devon bent her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. She couldn’t open her eyes and face Garrett. She didn’t know what he was thinking. He probably just thought she was a nutcase. She had told him that she was sleeping better, and now, here was proof that she wasn’t.
She heard the chair creak, and then footsteps crossed the carpet. The weight behind her shifted as Garrett sat down on the couch. He softly stroked her back a few times, and she cried harder at the comforting touch. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Nothing he could say would help. Nothing he could say would be better than the soft embrace as he pulled her into his arms. Devon leaned into his chest and let her tears stain the neck of his polo shirt. He rested one hand on the back of her head as he held her in place, letting the pain rush through her. At times, he would rock her back and forth while stroking her hair. Other times, he would place his chin on the top of her head and just hold her.