Already Gone (A Laura Frost FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1) by Blake Pierce (e book reader TXT) 📕

Carrie sprang into action, grabbing aknife from the kitchen and then lunging toward the front door and checking thelock. It was intact, and when she looked through the peephole, she didn’t see athing. She swallowed hard and pulled lightly at the chain, making sure it wasproperly engaged. No one would be coming through that door unless she openedit.

Carrie made a conscious effort to breathe,realizing she had been holding it to try and listen. There wasn’t a sound outthere. No one else was around. She was on her own. Wasn’t she?

She lifted up a shaking hand to the doorand set her eye to the peephole again, straining to make anything out in thedark corridor. The light that should have been opposite her door had blown abulb weeks ago, and the landlord had made no move to replace it. Carrieswallowed again on her dry throat, pressing close against the door as shestrained to see.

Through the pressure of the wood againsther fingertips, she could feel her own heartbeat, rapid and wild.

Carrie turned, putting her back againstthe door for a moment. There wasn’t any other way in, was there…?

The windows?

She rushed through the apartment,checking them one by one. Bedroom, kitchen, bathroom. All of them were locked,and the blinds and curtains were closed. She didn’t want to open them and lookout, in case of what she might see.

Carrie hesitated, glancing around hersmall space. Despite the fact that she had checked everything, she still feltunsure. The call had sent shivers down her spine, and the longer she thoughtabout it, the more they increased. How had he known her name? If it was just aprank call, she might have accepted that he knew her surname, even her firstname. But her middle name? He didn’t get that from the phone book.

Come to think of it, she wasn’t even inthe phone book. Did people still use phone books these days?

Carrie put her cell phone down on thebed for a moment, reaching up to double-check the bedroom window frame, pushingat the handle to reassure herself that it wouldn’t give easily. It stayedsolid, and she stepped back with a little relief. No one was getting in here.

She returned to the kitchen with adetermined stride, trying to feel more confident than she really did. Herdinner was still sitting on the counter. She needed to eat, to shower, to getready for bed. All of this nonsense about the prank call—it was just nonsense.Just a prank. She couldn’t let it derail her whole evening.

She almost managed to convince herselfthat she believed it. Carrie set down the knife and picked up her mac andcheese, moving it to the other side of the table where she preferred to eat.But her hands shook so badly as she set it down, she nearly spilled some of thecreamy cheese sauce over the edge of the tray.

A soft sound outside had her on alertagain, her body going stiff. It was only a second later that she heard thesmash of broken glass, a symphony of tinkling as it fell to the ground in thebedroom.

In the bedroom. Where she’d left hercell phone.

A strangled cry caught in Carrie’sthroat as she lunged for the landline, still sitting on the counter where shehad put it down. She dialed with fingers that were thick with fear and shaking,her own breath coming out in sobs as she hit the wrong digit and had to clearthe number to start again. He was inside the house. Then she pressed thephone to her ear, breathing raggedly.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s—there’s someone in my house!”Carrie wailed, all too aware that saying those words would alert him to whereshe was. “Please—you have to send—”

“Ma’am, are you able to get out of thehouse? Ma’am?”

The operator was talking to herself.Carrie was staring forward, frozen, the phone clutched in her hand still butfalling away from her ear. He was there, right in front of her, tall andmenacing. She had no idea who he was. But he was looking at her in that way,dark eyes boring into her from under a sweep of dark hair, and she knew, just knew,he wasn’t there for anything good.

He wasn’t even wearing a mask. Wasn’t heworried about her identifying him to the police, if he wasn’t wearing a mask?

Carrie’s heart stuttered in her chest asshe realized he didn’t intend for her to be alive to tell them.

“Ma’am, please stay on the line. We’llbe sending someone out to you as soon as possible. Are you there, ma’am? Canyou tell me any more details?”

The voice faded out as Carrie loweredthe phone, her whole body shaking and her breath coming out in whimpers as shestared at him. He was moving slowly toward her, inch by inch. Her body feltfrozen. She managed to back up just a couple of steps, but then her spine hitthe fridge, and she was trapped.

She didn’t say anything and neither didhe. They faced each other silently, him ever advancing, her frozen and shakingand unable to do a thing. Her mind was almost blank with fear and she couldn’tforce herself to move. It was as if she was a butterfly trapped to a piece ofcard with a pin.

She thought he would continue movingslowly forward forever, but then he lunged, clearing the space between them soquickly she barely had a moment to react. She screamed, just once, but shecouldn’t move fast enough to stop him. He wrenched the phone from her grip, andshe thought he would hang it up. But even as she flailed to get it back, hemade a quick move of his arm, flicking the cord around her neck. The ice in herveins turned to acid as she felt the wire against her skin, lying over herwindpipe.

She made to dash forward, to go past himthrough the tiny space between his arm and the counter, a futile but desperateattempt. He stepped aside and she dashed free, just for a moment—before thecord caught her and pulled her back, coughing already, a tight line brandedinto her neck where the cable lay.

Carrie’s hands flew up and scrabbled atthe cord, but somehow, now, it was