Chapter 1

The air in the house turned heavy the second the deadbolt clicked. Robert was gone, lured out by a panicked call from his daughter about a dead engine on a dark shoulder of the highway.

Angie stayed on the couch, the light of the kindle illuminated Angies face as she was reading a story about brutal things—full of men who took woman and used them as fuck dolls. She took a sip of water, the silence of the house pressing against her eardrums.

Angie was used to the silence living right on the edge of town. Then she thought she heard a thud at the back door. Damn dog. She got up to go to the back door and that’s when she noticed it was slightly open.

As she went to the door she caught something out of the corner of her eye. It was too late.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The intruder’s breathing was heavy, ragged with the adrenaline of a botched job of a robbery. but as his eyes raked over her, the panic in the room shifted into something thicker and more predatory.

Angie screamed! As she try to make to a different room. Angie tried to run but the stranger was there in two steps. He grabbed her with two hands and threw her to the floor. She tried to kick and punch but it was no use he was too big and strong. He slapped Angie in the face. The shock to the system brought tears to Angies eyes. No you screamed stop don’t hit me. He slaps you again and you curl up crying. He says nothing you try to look at him but your vision is blurry. The lights are off but you feel his hand on your throat as you feel him start to squeeze. You cry please don’t I have kids. He slaps you again. Shut up cunt. Where’s the money he yells. Money what money you respond. I know you manage that fucking jewelry store. Your fucking loaded. You stammer we don’t have any money. He slaps you again. Listen her you fucking snooty bitch. Give me the fucking money or I’m taking your life and ill search for it myself. Thats when you hear the click of a knife. Your mind races ... we don’t have money except for a couple of thousand in the safe and my jewelry.

You scream its in the backroom!! Good choice. Now get off the fucking ground and show me. As you get up you look harder at this man. He is about 6ft 4 long and lanky. You don’t recognize him at all. As you start to get up he kicks you. Hurry up he yells.

She led him down the narrow hallway toward the backroom—a space that smelled of old paper and cedar. It was a hybrid room, half-office with a heavy mahogany desk, and half-bedroom, dominated by a low, sturdy double bed with rumpled linens. She walks to the closet.

You dropped to your knees. She could feel him looming directly behind her, his shadow stretching up the closet wall, He placed a heavy hand on the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing the base of her skull. It wasn’t a caress; it was a tether. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, still refusing to break his predatory silence.