Scattered Thoughts, Random Musings

“Oh my God, this is not happening,” Amber shrieked. She began tugging at her bound hands but his grip held fast. “You don’t understand, I can’t stay here.” Marc grabbed her cuffed hands and pulled her toward him. “Then enlighten me,” he said, irritation all over his hard face. “I don’t like to be made a fool of and you’ve done nothing but that since we’ve met.” Amber looked at him in confusion. She’d been nothing but polite to the insensitive jerk, knowing full well he didn’t like her much. Maybe if she told him what had just happened he would help her. The unconscious man in her kitchen should be proof enough that she wasn’t playing anyone for a fool. “He’s in the kitchen.” Her voice was so calm she might as well told him there were cookies in the kitchen. “What?” “The guy who attacked me,” she explained patiently. He gave her a strange look and without another word pulled her towards the kitchen. But instead of the validation she’d expected, Amber was dumbfound...

Amber felt light-headed from the anticipation. The pan began to weigh heavily in her hands. She needed to call for help. She immediately thought of Detective Sharpe. No . Austen said no police. Amber sighed in resignation. The detective would as likely arrest her for this foray then the short, blonde man who roamed her house. He already thought her capable of murder. There would be no escaping this if she didn’t do something quick. She would have to make a run for it. She glanced at the narrow kitchen window and wondered at the possibility of fitting through it. But the soft padding of footsteps grew louder and Amber held her breathe. She raised the heavy grill pan above her head just as a dark figure appeared alongside the pantry closet. With heavy force, she brought down the pan. Her strike was wild and uncoordinated yet in her frenzy she heard the man grunt and fall to the ground. Blood mingled in his blonde curls and his glasses lay smashed beside his face. ...

Where was it? Amber pulled another drawer open, frantically scanning its contents. No luck. She slammed the drawer shut and opened another. Where was it? Panic started to set in. She had to find. Austen was counting on her. Amber continued her search, shoving contents around, unaware that she was looking in some of the same places. Maybe Shawn had moved it? Then a thought formed. Kneeling down, she pulled the bottom drawer out of its hinges and set it aside. Looking through the darken space, she found it. Nestled in the floorboard of the tall dresser, lay the padded envelope. She snatched it out of its hiding place and opened it. Nothing appeared to be missing and she breathed a sigh of relief. Stuffing the envelope into her purse, she went back downstairs. She quickly gathered her bags and wrote a brief note for Shawn. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her when she realized she may never see her friend again. But it was for everyone’s safety. Based on Austen’s ...